Misc. Erotica Mom's Cricket Challenge with my Friends (COMPLETED) - By Novelist Casanova

[novelistcasanova]

Mom’s Cricket Challenge with My Friends

By Novelist Casanova

The city road outside buzzed with traffic, horns, and temple bells, but inside our newly constructed five-storey house, the air was filled with fresh paint, jasmine and marygold garlands, and the sweet scent of ghee lamps. It was the proud day of Gruhapravesham, and every corner of the home glowed with festivity.

Relatives crowded the spacious living room, their voices rising in laughter and blessings. Children ran across the marble floor, aunties adjusted sarees and gossiped, while the men admired the high ceilings and polished woodwork. The priest’s chanting rolled like a rhythm under the noise, his voice steady as he sprinkled holy water near the doorway.
The clatter of steel plates came from the kitchen, where women prepared sweets, the aroma of payasam drifting out. Joy shone on every face — it was the first celebration inside this new home, a moment of pride and togetherness for the entire family.
Among the crowd in the living room, Sudha My Mom moved gracefully, dbangd in a red silk saree with a matching red blouse. The shine of the silk caught the light of the ghee lamps, making her look radiant, every step of hers drawing attention.
The men at the ceremony could not resist ogling at her. Their eyes lingered shamelessly on her deep navel, exposed by the playful dbang of her saree. When she bent slightly to adjust the pleats, their stares followed her buttocks wrapped tightly in the saree. Her full Boobs in her red blouse, rising and falling as she moved, tempting every wandering gaze.
Even as the priest chanted and the family celebrated, my mom’s presence turned the mood hotter, her beauty stealing attention away from the rituals. Every whispered conversation among the men circled back to her — her waist, her navel, her Boobs, her buttocks — each part of her body hidden yet displayed in ways that kept their eyes restless.
When the rituals ended, the priest closed his book and blessed the family with a smile. Everyone clapped, relieved the sacred work was done and eager to move on to the feast. But before leaving, the priest stepped toward my mom, his eyes twinkling mischievously.
“May Goddess Lakshmi always stay in this home,” he said aloud, and then, in front of everyone, he wrapped his arms around my mom and hugged her tightly.
My mom’s red blouse crushed against his chest, her soft Boobs flattening into his embrace. His hands slid down her buttocks and lingered just above her buttocks, squeezing her closer than what was decent. My Mom’s waist disappeared inside his arms as he enjoyed the warmth of her body in full.
The room fell silent for a moment, the men staring in shock and jealousy. They watched the priest’s boldness — how he held My Mom, how he dared to feel her body in his arms. Their eyes burned with envy, their lips dry with longing.
Among them stood My Friend Deepak's Dad, his jaw tight, his eyes fixed on My Mom. Desire and jealousy mixed in him like fire. More than anyone else in that room, he wanted to be the one holding her, kissing her, tasting those lips that smiled nervously as the priest finally let her go.
Just as the first priest stepped away, another younger priest, emboldened by the festive cheer, came forward. His smile was wide, his eyes shameless as they roamed over my mom in her red silk saree and red blouse.
He folded his hands as if to bless her, but instead pulled her into a hug. His arms wrapped around her waist, pressing her tightly into him. My Mom gasped softly as she felt his obvious tent pressing against her through the layers of cloth.
The priest’s hands roamed boldly over her buttocks and grabbed my mom’s buttocks through the saree. He leaned closer, and kissed my mom’s cheek, lingering longer than it should have. My mom closed her eyes for a second, feeling the heat of his embrace, her Boobs crushed firmly against his chest.
The men standing around clenched their fists, burning with jealousy. Their eyes were fixed on the way the priest’s hands moved over her, the way his body rubbed shamelessly against her.
And among them, Deepak's Dad’s desire grew unbearable. His jaw tightened, his breath heavy, watching another man enjoy the closeness he craved. Jealousy mixed with a raw hunger, making him more restless, more determined.
As the second priest finally stepped back, a third one, older but bolder, came forward with a smirk. He didn’t even pretend to be formal. Without hesitation, he pulled My Mom straight into his complete embrace, his strong arms locking around her waist and dragging her body flush against his.
His dhoti betrayed him instantly — a hard boner pressing into My Mom’s stomach as he held her tightly. My Mom gasped, her Boobs crushed firmly into his chest, her buttocks squeezed against his grip.
Before anyone could react, the third priest tilted his head and kissed My Mom’s lips fully. His mouth lingered on hers, kissing her nicely, his tongue brushing her lips as she stood trapped in his arms.
The crowd went silent, eyes wide. Then whispers, then stares — every man in that living room froze in shock, their own cocks stiffening as they watched My Mom’s red blouse and red saree pressed indecently against the priest’s body.
One by one, they looked down in embarrassment — each of them hiding a boner inside their Dhotis, their jealousy boiling.
And among them, Deepak's Dad was on fire. His desire had reached its limit. His boner strained huge and hard, jealousy twisting inside him. He wanted My Mom so badly he could barely breathe, his eyes locked on her lips glistening from the priest’s kiss.
My Mom’s cheeks still burned from the shameless kiss the third priest had planted on her lips. The room was filled with murmurs, hungry eyes, and silent stares. She lowered her gaze, adjusting the pleats of her red silk saree, and excused herself softly, pretending to head upstairs to check the rooms.
As she climbed the staircase, her buttocks swayed in the tight dbang of the saree, every step making the men groan inwardly. Their eyes followed her until she disappeared around the corner.
Deepak's Dad could not hold back anymore. His huge boner throbbed beneath his Dhoti, his chest rising and falling with restless hunger. He slipped away from the crowd, his eyes burning with desire, and moved up the staircase quietly, following her.
Upstairs, the new bedroom still smelled of fresh paint and incense. My Mom stepped inside, closing the door halfway behind her. She leaned against the wall, touching her lips, still tingling from the priest’s bold kiss. Her Boobs rose and fell under the snug red blouse, her heart racing.
At that very moment, Deepak's Dad looked at me, “I am gonna fuck your mom” he said and went towards my mom’s Bedroom and pushed the door open and stepped in.



Six months ago…
I could still picture our old ground-floor house, tucked between towering high-rises in the heart of Chennai, Tamil Nadu. It felt cramped, suffocating sometimes, and yet that’s where life had been—until My Mom’s obsession with building a proper house became impossible to ignore.
From my side, I watched her pace the small living room, hands tightening in frustration, eyes flicking to imaginary corners, visualizing walls, windows, and a balcony bathed in sunlight. She looked so desperate, so determined, and I could feel her pulse quicken with every thought about the house.
I knew she wanted it badly. She dreamed of a home of her own, free from cramped spaces, noisy neighbors, and the weight of this crowded city pressing down on her. But I also knew the truth she barely admitted to anyone: she needed 30 lakhs to make it happen, and she didn’t have it.
Every evening, I watched her scribble plans, pace around the rooms, and mutter numbers under her breath. There was a fire in her eyes, a mix of anxiety and determination that made her magnetic. I felt both helpless and in awe. Her desire for that house wasn’t just about bricks and walls—it was about control, independence, and a dream she refused to let go of.
Even amidst the honking cars, the constant hum of life in Chennai, and the imposing high-rises that loomed over us, I could see her heart was entirely focused on that future home. And I couldn’t help but feel the tension in the air—her desperation, her longing, and my own desire to help her somehow.


She would often stand at the balcony in the evening, looking at the other houses, and tell me, “Varun, one day we’ll have five more floors on top of this house. I’ll make it the tallest one here.”
I would nod, but I knew what she didn’t say out loud — that building those five floors would need money, a lot of it, and she didn’t have it yet. Still, she dressed and carried herself like a queen among these rich families. Every morning she would step out in her saree, her buttocks swaying as she walked, her breasts filling her blouse perfectly, her navel showing when she adjusted her pallu.
The men in these big houses noticed her. They watched from balconies, from gates, even from their parked cars. Some pretended to be busy when she passed, others stared openly. I’d caught more than one of them smiling to themselves after she was gone, as if imagining something they shouldn’t.
It wasn’t just the men. Even my friends, who came from these same wealthy families, came to my house more for her than for me. And birthdays… that was when they got their chance.
My mom always told me, “Varun, you should mingle with rich boys in your college. Connections matter more than marks. One day, they might help us.” She was serious about her dream of building those five floors, and I knew she saw wealthy friends as part of that plan.
That’s how Deepak and Karthik entered our lives. They were both sons of powerful politicians, used to money, cars, and influence. The first time they came home, I introduced them proudly.
“Mom, this is Deepak, and this is Karthik. They’re both from political families.”
The moment they saw her, their eyes changed. Deepak’s smile froze for a second as he stared at her breasts in her blouse. Karthik’s gaze dropped to her buttocks as she turned to bring tea from the kitchen. They weren’t subtle, and I could tell from that first meeting — they were already imagining her in ways they shouldn’t.
What surprised me was my mom’s reaction. Instead of shying away, she smiled warmly, talking to them, asking about their families, even placing her hand lightly on Karthik’s shoulder when she laughed. I could see the flicker in her eyes — she was pleased.
Later that night, as she folded clothes in the bedroom, she told me, “Good boys, Varun. Keep them close. Through friends like them, maybe one day we’ll have the money for our house.”
From that day, Deepak and Karthik started visiting often. And every time they came, they looked at her more boldly, their eyes moving from her waist to her chest, lingering on her cheek when she smiled. And I knew — it was only a matter of time before they found a reason to touch her.
One afternoon, Deepak came home with me after college. My mom was in the hall, wearing her yellow saree with a matching blouse, her pleats tight at the waist, her breasts filling out the blouse perfectly.
Deepak smiled at her. “Aunty, I should teach you how we greet people in our homes,” he said, stepping closer. Before she could respond, his hand was already on her waist, gripping her firmly and pulling her right up against him.
She gave a small gasp, surprised, but didn’t pull away.
“Like this,” he said, sliding his other arm around her back. “You stand close, hug… and the other person hugs back.”
Still holding her waist, he drew her into his chest. Her breasts pressed against him as his body met hers completely. Then he looked at her and said, “Now, you put your arms around my neck and hug me back.”
My mom hesitated for a second, then, thinking this must be some rich people’s way of greeting, she looped her arms around his neck.
“And now,” Deepak said, leaning in, “you kiss the cheek.”
Before she could react, he turned his face, and their cheeks brushed. He kissed her, slow and deliberate, right on her cheek. She felt it, I could tell, but she just smiled politely afterward, saying, “So this is how you greet in rich families?”
Deepak grinned. “Exactly, Aunty. You’ll get used to it.”
From that day, she never stopped him when he greeted her like that. She believed she was learning the ways of the wealthy, but I knew Deepak’s hands were enjoying far more than just a greeting.
A few days later, Karthik came over in the evening. My mom was in her pink saree with a matching blouse, bending slightly to arrange flowers in the vase. The movement made her buttocks push out behind her, and Karthik’s eyes locked there instantly.
Deepak had clearly told him about the “greeting.” The moment she straightened up, Karthik walked right to her with a confident smile.
“Aunty, I heard you’ve learned our way of greeting,” he said.
Before she could answer, his hand slid onto her waist and pulled her forward. She stumbled half a step, and her breasts met his chest directly.
“You have to hug me back,” Karthik said, his voice lower.
She nodded, still thinking this was just how the rich behaved, and put her arms around his neck. He gripped her buttocks over the saree with both hands, holding her tight against him.
Then, without waiting, he turned his head and kissed her cheek slowly, his lips pressing for more than a moment. His hands stayed on her buttocks until he finally let her go.
She gave a small, polite smile. “You boys are very affectionate,” she said.
Karthik chuckled. “Only with special people, Aunty.”
From then on, both Deepak and Karthik greeted her this way every time they came. She thought it was a harmless rich-people custom. I knew it was anything but.
It was a Saturday afternoon when both Deepak and Karthik came home with me. My mom was in a green saree with a matching blouse, standing in the doorway as we entered. The saree was wrapped snugly at her waist, her breasts full in the blouse, her buttocks shaped clearly under the pleats.
Deepak stepped forward first. “Aunty, we came to say hello.”
Without waiting, he put his hand on her waist, pulled her into him, and hugged her tight, his chest pressing her breasts firmly. His hands went down and held her buttocks through the saree, fingers spread as he kissed her cheek slowly.
He stepped aside, grinning, and Karthik immediately moved in. He repeated the same — one hand pulling her waist, the other gripping her buttocks, his body pressed to hers from chest to hips. She put her arms around his neck, thinking it was just a greeting, and he kissed her cheek, his lips lingering longer than Deepak’s.
When he let go, they both stood smiling at her. She smiled back, saying, “Both of you are so warm and friendly… no wonder rich people are close like this.”
Deepak and Karthik exchanged a look I understood perfectly — they knew she still thought it was just culture, but for them, it was far more.
Later that afternoon, we all sat in the hall with coffee. My mom was on the single sofa, Deepak and Karthik on the couch across from her.
Deepak took a sip, then said, “Aunty, in our circle, hugging isn’t just a greeting… it’s how we build real connection. Only if we hug each other, the bonding gets tighter.”
Karthik leaned forward, smiling. “And there’s another thing, Aunty… when you hug wealthy people, you attract wealth yourself. It’s like sharing good fortune.”
My mom tilted her head, curious. “So you mean… hugging rich people can bring luck?”
“Exactly,” Karthik said. “It’s a sign of closeness. The more you do it, the more people want to help you.”
I could see the thought settling in her mind. She smiled, nodding slowly. “That’s a nice belief… maybe I should start doing it more often.”
From the very next day, she didn’t wait for them to start. The moment Deepak or Karthik stepped into the house, she would walk straight to them, wrap her arms around their necks, and pull them into a tight hug. Her breasts pressed to them, their hands always sliding down to her buttocks, gripping her firmly as she held them close.
She would greet them like that every time, her cheek brushing theirs, sometimes kissing lightly without them even asking. She thought she was bringing wealth into the house. They knew they were getting exactly what they wanted.
One afternoon, my mom was at home watching cricket on TV. She was in her red saree with a matching blouse, sitting cross-legged on the sofa. The pallu was dbangd loosely, and her saree was tied low on her waist, leaving her deep navel in full view.
The doorbell rang. I opened it to see Deepak and Karthik standing there, smiling. Before I could say anything, my mom got up to greet them.
She walked straight to the door, wrapped her arms around Deepak’s neck, and pulled him into a tight hug. Her breasts pressed into his chest, and his hands slid down to her buttocks, gripping her firmly through the saree as they kissed each other’s cheek.
She turned to Karthik next, hugging him the same way — arms around his neck, breasts against him, his hands taking their place on her buttocks while he kissed her cheek slowly.
“Come in, boys,” she said warmly. They followed her to the sofa, sitting down on either side of her.
Deepak looked at the TV and asked, “Aunty, you like cricket?”
She smiled. “Of course. I used to play during my high college days. I was an all-rounder — batting and bowling.”
Karthik leaned closer, his eyes on her waist. “Really? Then we should take you to the ground sometime. You’ll love it.”
She laughed softly. “It’s been years, but maybe I still have a few shots left in me.”
The three of them kept talking cricket, but I could see Deepak and Karthik’s eyes drifting from the TV to her low-tied saree and the glimpse of her navel each time she moved.
As they kept talking about cricket, my mom suddenly smiled and said, “Wait here, I’ll show you something.” She went into her bedroom, and we followed.
She opened her cupboard and pulled out an old photo album. Sitting on the bed, she flipped it open to a page full of her high college cricket days. There she was — in a white shirt tucked into a pleated white skirt that stopped well above her knees, showing her toned thighs. In some pictures, she was holding a bat; in others, she was bowling, her skirt lifting slightly with the action.
Deepak’s eyes stayed fixed on her legs in those pictures. “Aunty… you were so hot in that skirt,” he said without hesitation.
Karthik leaned closer to look at the photos, grinning. “If you looked like this in college, no wonder everyone wanted to be on your team.”
My mom blushed, looking down for a moment before smiling shyly. “Aiyo… those were innocent college days.”
Deepak shook his head. “Innocent or not, Aunty, you’d still turn every head if you wore this today.”
She laughed softly, but I could see the pink on her cheeks. She closed the album slowly, almost as if she knew those pictures had just added fuel to something already burning in their minds.
She would often stand at the balcony in the evening, looking at the other houses, and tell me, “Varun, one day we’ll have five more floors on top of this house. I’ll make it the tallest one here.”
I would nod, but I knew what she didn’t say out loud — that building those five floors would need money, a lot of it, and she didn’t have it yet. Still, she dressed and carried herself like a queen among these rich families. Every morning she would step out in her saree, her buttocks swaying as she walked, her breasts filling her blouse perfectly, her navel showing when she adjusted her pallu.
The men in these big houses noticed her. They watched from balconies, from gates, even from their parked cars. Some pretended to be busy when she passed, others stared openly. I’d caught more than one of them smiling to themselves after she was gone, as if imagining something they shouldn’t.
It wasn’t just the men. Even my friends, who came from these same wealthy families, came to my house more for her than for me. And birthdays… that was when they got their chance.
My mom always told me, “Varun, you should mingle with rich boys in your college. Connections matter more than marks. One day, they might help us.” She was serious about her dream of building those five floors, and I knew she saw wealthy friends as part of that plan.
That’s how Deepak and Karthik entered our lives. They were both sons of powerful politicians, used to money, cars, and influence. The first time they came home, I introduced them proudly.
“Mom, this is Deepak, and this is Karthik. They’re both from political families.”
The moment they saw her, their eyes changed. Deepak’s smile froze for a second as he stared at her breasts in her blouse. Karthik’s gaze dropped to her buttocks as she turned to bring tea from the kitchen. They weren’t subtle, and I could tell from that first meeting — they were already imagining her in ways they shouldn’t.
What surprised me was my mom’s reaction. Instead of shying away, she smiled warmly, talking to them, asking about their families, even placing her hand lightly on Karthik’s shoulder when she laughed. I could see the flicker in her eyes — she was pleased.
Later that night, as she folded clothes in the bedroom, she told me, “Good boys, Varun. Keep them close. Through friends like them, maybe one day we’ll have the money for our house.”
From that day, Deepak and Karthik started visiting often. And every time they came, they looked at her more boldly, their eyes moving from her waist to her chest, lingering on her cheek when she smiled. And I knew — it was only a matter of time before they found a reason to touch her.
One afternoon, Deepak came home with me after college. My mom was in the hall, wearing her yellow saree with a matching blouse, her pleats tight at the waist, her breasts filling out the blouse perfectly.
Deepak smiled at her. “Aunty, I should teach you how we greet people in our homes,” he said, stepping closer. Before she could respond, his hand was already on her waist, gripping her firmly and pulling her right up against him.
She gave a small gasp, surprised, but didn’t pull away.
“Like this,” he said, sliding his other arm around her back. “You stand close, hug… and the other person hugs back.”
Still holding her waist, he drew her into his chest. Her breasts pressed against him as his body met hers completely. Then he looked at her and said, “Now, you put your arms around my neck and hug me back.”
My mom hesitated for a second, then, thinking this must be some rich people’s way of greeting, she looped her arms around his neck.
“And now,” Deepak said, leaning in, “you kiss the cheek.”
Before she could react, he turned his face, and their cheeks brushed. He kissed her, slow and deliberate, right on her cheek. She felt it, I could tell, but she just smiled politely afterward, saying, “So this is how you greet in rich families?”
Deepak grinned. “Exactly, Aunty. You’ll get used to it.”
From that day, she never stopped him when he greeted her like that. She believed she was learning the ways of the wealthy, but I knew Deepak’s hands were enjoying far more than just a greeting.
A few days later, Karthik came over in the evening. My mom was in her pink saree with a matching blouse, bending slightly to arrange flowers in the vase. The movement made her buttocks push out behind her, and Karthik’s eyes locked there instantly.
Deepak had clearly told him about the “greeting.” The moment she straightened up, Karthik walked right to her with a confident smile.
“Aunty, I heard you’ve learned our way of greeting,” he said.
Before she could answer, his hand slid onto her waist and pulled her forward. She stumbled half a step, and her breasts met his chest directly.
“You have to hug me back,” Karthik said, his voice lower.
She nodded, still thinking this was just how the rich behaved, and put her arms around his neck. He gripped her buttocks over the saree with both hands, holding her tight against him.
Then, without waiting, he turned his head and kissed her cheek slowly, his lips pressing for more than a moment. His hands stayed on her buttocks until he finally let her go.
She gave a small, polite smile. “You boys are very affectionate,” she said.
Karthik chuckled. “Only with special people, Aunty.”
From then on, both Deepak and Karthik greeted her this way every time they came. She thought it was a harmless rich-people custom. I knew it was anything but.
It was a Saturday afternoon when both Deepak and Karthik came home with me. My mom was in a green saree with a matching blouse, standing in the doorway as we entered. The saree was wrapped snugly at her waist, her breasts full in the blouse, her buttocks shaped clearly under the pleats.
Deepak stepped forward first. “Aunty, we came to say hello.”
Without waiting, he put his hand on her waist, pulled her into him, and hugged her tight, his chest pressing her breasts firmly. His hands went down and held her buttocks through the saree, fingers spread as he kissed her cheek slowly.
He stepped aside, grinning, and Karthik immediately moved in. He repeated the same — one hand pulling her waist, the other gripping her buttocks, his body pressed to hers from chest to hips. She put her arms around his neck, thinking it was just a greeting, and he kissed her cheek, his lips lingering longer than Deepak’s.
When he let go, they both stood smiling at her. She smiled back, saying, “Both of you are so warm and friendly… no wonder rich people are close like this.”
Deepak and Karthik exchanged a look I understood perfectly — they knew she still thought it was just culture, but for them, it was far more.
Later that afternoon, we all sat in the hall with coffee. My mom was on the single sofa, Deepak and Karthik on the couch across from her.
Deepak took a sip, then said, “Aunty, in our circle, hugging isn’t just a greeting… it’s how we build real connection. Only if we hug each other, the bonding gets tighter.”
Karthik leaned forward, smiling. “And there’s another thing, Aunty… when you hug wealthy people, you attract wealth yourself. It’s like sharing good fortune.”
My mom tilted her head, curious. “So you mean… hugging rich people can bring luck?”
“Exactly,” Karthik said. “It’s a sign of closeness. The more you do it, the more people want to help you.”
I could see the thought settling in her mind. She smiled, nodding slowly. “That’s a nice belief… maybe I should start doing it more often.”
From the very next day, she didn’t wait for them to start. The moment Deepak or Karthik stepped into the house, she would walk straight to them, wrap her arms around their necks, and pull them into a tight hug. Her breasts pressed to them, their hands always sliding down to her buttocks, gripping her firmly as she held them close.
She would greet them like that every time, her cheek brushing theirs, sometimes kissing lightly without them even asking. She thought she was bringing wealth into the house. They knew they were getting exactly what they wanted.
One afternoon, my mom was at home watching cricket on TV. She was in her red saree with a matching blouse, sitting cross-legged on the sofa. The pallu was dbangd loosely, and her saree was tied low on her waist, leaving her deep navel in full view.
The doorbell rang. I opened it to see Deepak and Karthik standing there, smiling. Before I could say anything, my mom got up to greet them.
She walked straight to the door, wrapped her arms around Deepak’s neck, and pulled him into a tight hug. Her breasts pressed into his chest, and his hands slid down to her buttocks, gripping her firmly through the saree as they kissed each other’s cheek.
She turned to Karthik next, hugging him the same way — arms around his neck, breasts against him, his hands taking their place on her buttocks while he kissed her cheek slowly.
“Come in, boys,” she said warmly. They followed her to the sofa, sitting down on either side of her.
Deepak looked at the TV and asked, “Aunty, you like cricket?”
She smiled. “Of course. I used to play during my high college days. I was an all-rounder — batting and bowling.”
Karthik leaned closer, his eyes on her waist. “Really? Then we should take you to the ground sometime. You’ll love it.”
She laughed softly. “It’s been years, but maybe I still have a few shots left in me.”
The three of them kept talking cricket, but I could see Deepak and Karthik’s eyes drifting from the TV to her low-tied saree and the glimpse of her navel each time she moved.
As they kept talking about cricket, my mom suddenly smiled and said, “Wait here, I’ll show you something.” She went into her bedroom, and we followed.
She opened her cupboard and pulled out an old photo album. Sitting on the bed, she flipped it open to a page full of her high college cricket days. There she was — in a white shirt tucked into a pleated white skirt that stopped well above her knees, showing her toned thighs. In some pictures, she was holding a bat; in others, she was bowling, her skirt lifting slightly with the action.
Deepak’s eyes stayed fixed on her legs in those pictures. “Aunty… you were so hot in that skirt,” he said without hesitation.
Karthik leaned closer to look at the photos, grinning. “If you looked like this in college, no wonder everyone wanted to be on your team.”
My mom blushed, looking down for a moment before smiling shyly. “Aiyo… those were innocent college days.”
Deepak shook his head. “Innocent or not, Aunty, you’d still turn every head if you wore this today.”
She laughed softly, but I could see the pink on her cheeks. She closed the album slowly, almost as if she knew those pictures had just added fuel to something already burning in their minds.

Deepak was still smiling at my mom when he said, “Aunty, you know… we’ve got something you might like. We have our own Cricket Ground, almost a Cricket Stadium with all the Facilities. Why don’t you come see it sometime? I can also show you around my house.”

Karthik immediately added, “Yes, Aunty, it’ll be fun. You’ll love it.”
My mom tilted her head, smiling politely. “Hmm… cricket ground? That sounds interesting.”
Deepak leaned forward. “Then come today itself, Aunty. No excuses.”
She looked at me. “Varun, shall we?”
I shrugged, pretending casual, but inside I was curious. “Okay, let’s go.”
“Then done,” Deepak said quickly, before she could change her mind.
My mom nodded. “Alright, but let us go change first. It’s too hot for these clothes.”
We went towards her bedroom while Deepak and Karthik stayed in the living room, still holding the photo album. I could hear them murmuring as they looked again at her old college cricket pictures.
“Look at her legs here, da… so toned,” Deepak whispered.
Karthik chuckled. “Even now they look the same… maybe even better.”
From the bedroom door, I glanced back and saw both of them staring at one particular picture of her bowling in the pleated white skirt, their eyes clearly following her thighs.
My mom, unaware — or maybe pretending not to notice — opened her cupboard again, pulling out a saree to change into.
I stood by the cupboard, watching Mom scan through her sarees. She looked over at me, her lips curving in a small smile. "What should I wear today?" she asked, as if the choice was mine alone.
My fingers drifted over the colors until they stopped at the Yellow Chiffon saree. "This one will look perfect on you," I said, already imagining how it would cling to her.
She took it from me with a soft smile. "Yellow chiffon? Hmm… okay," she replied, then reached into the shelf for a matching yellow blouse and yellow petticoat.
When she walked over to the bed to lay them out, my eyes followed every step. Her buttocks moved with a subtle sway, perfectly shaped, and the gentle arch of her waist drew my gaze down to her deep navel. As she bent forward, her breasts pressed against her blouse, the fabric pulling tight over them, teasing me with every breath she took.
She glanced over her shoulder, catching me staring. "Thank you, Varun," she said softly, her cheeks taking on a faint pink glow that made her look even more irresistible.


To Be Continued 

[novelistcasanova]

The moment my mom opened her cupboard, my eyes locked on her buttocks swaying gently as she bent forward. She pulled out a new black bra and new black panties from a crisp plastic cover, the sound making my pulse quicken. I watched her fingers slowly lift the black bra, the straps dangling, before she laid the black panties neatly on top of a white towel.

She turned toward me, her deep navel showing just above the yellow petticoat she still had on. “Wait, Varun… I’ll have a quick shower and will be back in five minutes,” she said, her lips curling in a smile that made my chest tighten.
My gaze couldn’t leave the sight of the black bra in one hand, the black panties in the other, and how the white towel rested against her soft waist. Her breasts shifted subtly under her blouse as she moved, and each step toward the bathroom made her buttocks sway in a slow, hypnotic rhythm until the door closed behind her.
The sound of the latch clicking sent a shiver through me. I could hear her gentle movements inside — the rustle of her saree being loosened, then the faint slide of it falling to the floor. My mind instantly pictured Mom in her blouse and petticoat, standing barefoot, unhurried.
There was a pause, and then I heard the soft tug of hooks — the blouse coming open. I imagined her slipping it off, her shoulders glowing under the bathroom light. Then came the sound I knew so well — the clasp of her White bra being unhooked. In my mind, her breasts spilled free, round and full, the nipples tightening in the cool air.
A faint thud followed — maybe her petticoat hitting the floor. She would still be in her White panties, hugging her buttocks. I imagined her fingers slowly curling into the waistband of her White Panties, pulling it down her thighs, bending slightly, her buttocks shifting as the panties slid lower until they dropped at her feet.
The shower hissed to life, and I froze. I pictured her stepping under the stream, tilting her head back, the water pouring over her hair, running in rivulets down her shoulders and over her breasts, tracing the curves before dripping from her deep navel.
A low sound escaped her lips — soft, breathy. My heart thudded. Was she… enjoying the warmth? Or something else? I could hear her hands gliding over her body, slow strokes, circling her breasts, sliding down her waist, lingering low.
Then another sound — a quiet, involuntary moan — and my imagination ran wild. I could see her leaning against the wall, eyes closed, her body arching slightly as her own touch lingered where the water streamed hottest.
The shower’s rhythm filled the room, but all I could hear was her.
Another soft moan — longer this time, warmer — slipped through the sound of the water. My mind painted it perfectly.
Mom’s right hand would be cupping her breast, her thumb circling the nipple, teasing it until it hardened under her touch. I imagined her tilting her head, eyes shut, lips parted, her breathing quickening as her fingers squeezed gently.
Her other hand, I knew, was travelling lower — slow, unhurried — down her slick stomach, over her deep navel, and further still. The water must have been cascading over her mound, making it glisten. My chest tightened as I pictured her fingers parting herself, tracing lightly at first, then pressing in with a familiar rhythm.
The next moan was sharper, her breath catching as if she had touched the exact spot of her Pussy. My mind wouldn’t stop — I saw her hips shifting, her buttocks tensing, her knees parting slightly for better access. She was leaning forward a little now, letting the spray hit her back while her own fingers worked her.
She let out a low, trembling “Mmm…” and my pulse spiked. It wasn’t just pleasure — it was surrender. She was lost in it, touching herself the way she liked best. I imagined her curling two fingers inside her Pussy while her thumb circled her clit, her whole body moving in slow, needy waves.
Her moans started coming quicker, softer at first, then louder, almost like she was trying to keep them in but couldn’t. I pictured her biting her lower lip, her breasts rising and falling faster, her hips rocking against her own hand until she reached that moment when her body would tense completely…
Her moans were faster now, each one a little sharper, a little higher.
I could almost feel the moment her hips began to lose their rhythm — the way she must be moving in short, urgent bursts instead of slow strokes.
Mom’s breathing came hard through the thin bathroom door, her voice breaking into little gasps. I imagined her pushing her fingers deeper inside her Pussy, her thumb rubbing harder against her clit. Her breasts would be swaying with each movement, nipples tight and begging to be touched, her buttocks clenching as she fought to keep her balance under the water.
Then it came — “mmmmmmmmmm mmmmmmmmm mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm mmmm,” that sound I’d never forget. A deep, trembling moan, longer than the rest, one that told me she was right there on the edge. Her whole body must have frozen for a heartbeat, every muscle tightening as the wave hit.
She let out a breathless “Ahhh… mmmmmmmmm…” and came all over her fingers, and that moan melted into a series of soft whimpers. In my mind, her thighs were shaking, her stomach contracting with each pulse, her fingers still working inside her as her body rode the pleasure in slow aftershocks.
I pictured the water streaming over her flushed skin, dripping from her nipples, sliding between her thighs as she finally let her hand fall away, panting, leaning one palm against the wall for support.
Even after the moans faded, I could hear the faint shift of her feet in the water — the small movements of someone still recovering, still glowing from what they had just done. My own heart was pounding so hard, I had to close my eyes.
The bathroom door clicked open and a rush of warm, scented steam spilled into the room.
My Mom stepped out, droplets clinging to her skin, her wet hair falling over her shoulders as she rubbed it with a towel.
She was wearing nothing but her black bra and black panties, both clinging to her from the shower. My eyes trailed over the way her breasts lifted and shifted under the bra, the way the damp panties hugged her buttocks so perfectly I could make out every curve.
She caught me staring. A teasing smile curved her lips as she tilted her head.
"Why are you looking at me as if you’ve seen me in my bra and panties for the first time?" she asked, her voice playful, almost daring. Then she laughed softly, shaking her head as if she found my reaction amusing.
Without hurrying, she picked up her yellow petticoat and stepped into it, her hips swaying slightly as she pulled the soft fabric up over her thighs. My eyes were fixed on the waistband sliding higher, covering her panties inch by inch until only the faint outline of her panties remained beneath the thin yellow petticoat.
Her fingers smoothed the petticoat around her waist, tucking it in gently while still towelling her hair, as if she wasn’t even aware of how much she was showing me. But she knew. She had to know.
My mom reached for her yellow blouse, holding it in front of her for a moment as if deciding how to put it on. Then, with a smooth movement, she slipped her arms through the sleeves, the black bra still visible until the blouse settled against her shoulders.
The thin yellow blouse clung lightly over her breasts, and as she pulled the two sides together in front, I caught one last glimpse of the dark straps before her fingers began hooking it up one clasp at a time. Each hook seemed to close with a soft click, drawing the blouse snug around her chest and making the shape of her breasts stand out even more.
"Varun… get the bike ready," she said casually, adjusting the blouse at her waist.
I shook my head, a little smile forming. "No, Amma… we’ll go in Deepak’s car."
She paused, her hands still smoothing the blouse. Then she looked at me, that knowing glint in her eyes, and a small, slow smile curved her lips. She didn’t argue… she just smiled—like she knew exactly what I was thinking.
My mom reached for her yellow chiffon saree, holding the soft folds in her hands for a moment before giving them a little shake so they flowed open. She glanced at me once, almost mischievously, before stepping closer to the mirror.
She wrapped the first end around her waist, tucking it neatly into her yellow petticoat, making sure the pleats sat flat. But she wore it low—so low that her deep navel was fully visible, the shape of her lower waist drawing my eyes helplessly.
Each time her fingers smoothed the saree into place, my gaze followed them, lingering on how the chiffon hugged her hips. The black panties beneath the yellow petticoat still teased in my mind, as if they were hiding in plain sight.
She pleated the front with slow, practised motions, then tucked them in, the saree resting deliciously below her navel, making me wonder if she did it on purpose… knowing I was watching.
She gathered the loose end of her yellow chiffon saree, lifting it in one graceful sweep and bringing it across her black bra and yellow blouse. Instead of dbanging it quickly, she slowed down—letting the soft chiffon slide over the curve of her breasts, the pallu falling loosely so the outline still tempted my eyes.
"Why are you staring at me like that again?" she asked, a playful smile on her lips as she adjusted the pleats of the pallu over her shoulder. "As if you didn’t just see me in my bra and panties a minute ago."
She gave a little laugh, tilting her head, then reached behind to straighten the saree at her buttocks, her fingers lingering just long enough to make my heart race.
"Come on, Varun… Deepak must be waiting," she said, brushing her hair over one shoulder as if nothing had happened, yet fully aware of how much she was teasing me.
She stepped closer to the dresser, her yellow chiffon saree still sitting daringly low on her waist, the pleats swaying against her black panties underneath. Picking up a handful of glass bangles, she began sliding them over her wrists one by one, the faint clink and shimmer catching my attention.
I couldn’t stop my eyes from drifting lower—her deep navel framed perfectly by the pallu that barely covered it, the curve of her buttocks still visible from the back when she bent slightly to pick her perfume bottle.
She sprayed a little on her neck, then on the valley of her breasts, and finally on her saree near the waistline. "You like this scent, right?" she asked, turning to face me with that half-smile that knew exactly what it was doing to me.
When I nodded without thinking, she chuckled softly. "Good… now stop staring and call Deepak. We’ll go in his car."
Her tone was casual, but her eyes told me she knew I’d be thinking about this moment the entire day.
My mom adjusted the pallu loosely over her breasts, then turned toward me with a playful tilt of her head. "So… tell me, Varun… how do I look in my yellow saree?"
I let my eyes move slowly from her face, past her breasts pressing against the blouse, to her waist, where the saree was tied well below her deep navel. My gaze went further down over her hips until I stood behind her.
The saree was wrapped tightly across her buttocks, and through the yellow chiffon I could clearly see the straight horizontal line of her panties running across the middle of them.
"Your panty line is showing," I said, my voice low.
She turned her head slightly with a playful smile. "Hmm… that’s unavoidable, Varun. Chiffon always shows it."
I kept looking, unable to stop. She gave a teasing laugh. "The only way not to reveal a panty line… is not wearing any panties at all."
Her laugh lingered in the air as she adjusted her pallu again, leaving me with that thought burning in my mind.
My mom walked out of the bedroom beside me, her hips swaying naturally as she moved. The yellow saree clung snugly around her buttocks, the panty line still perfectly visible through the chiffon saree. Her pallu slipped slightly forward, giving an even fuller view of her breasts beneath the matching yellow blouse. The saree was tucked low at her waist, leaving her deep navel in full view with every step.
In the hall, Deepak and Karthik were sitting on the sofa, but the moment they saw her, their conversation stopped. Their eyes widened.
Karthik’s gaze dropped immediately to her deep navel, then rose slowly to her breasts, lingering there. Deepak’s eyes traveled lower, over the tight wrap of her saree across her buttocks, clearly catching the line of her panties.
Neither of them said a word. They just stared — spellbound, as if my mom’s beauty had frozen them in place.
My mom, pretending not to notice, gave a small smile and kept walking past them toward the living room, the swish of her saree leaving the faintest scent of her perfume in the air.
“Just a moment, I will get my handbag,” as my mom said and went inside the bedroom, her buttocks shifting gently under the yellow saree, Deepak leaned slightly toward Karthik, his eyes still fixed on her.
“Bro… did you see her navel? It’s so deep… I can’t look away,” he whispered, almost in awe.
Karthik gave a slow nod, his gaze still locked on My Mom’s swaying figure.
“And her buttocks… the way that saree is hugging them… and you can see her panty line so clearly,” he murmured, his voice thick.
Deepak exhaled sharply, almost as if he was trying to control himself.
“Her breasts in that blouse… man… she’s perfect.”
They both sat back, still stunned, watching her every step as she moved further away.
I caught the way Deepak and Karthik’s eyes followed her. She hadn’t even turned the corner before Deepak leaned toward Karthik.
“We have to enjoy today at any cost, bro… this chance won’t come again.”
Karthik grinned, eyes still fixed on the spot where she had been.
“I was thinking the same… we can’t waste a beauty like this walking around us all day.”
Their words sent a jolt straight through me. I could feel my heartbeat pounding in my ears. Just moments ago, I had been ogling her myself—my mother—in that yellow saree, the deep navel peeking when the saree shifted, the swell of her breasts against the blouse, the sway of her buttocks, and that clear panty line running across her hips.
Hearing them talk about her like that didn’t make me angry… it made me hard. I shifted slightly, trying to hide my growing arousal, but their voices kept replaying in my head, making my chest feel tight and my breathing heavier.
A few minutes later, my mom stepped out of the bedroom, her yellow saree dbangd low at her waist, deep navel showing, breasts pressing against her yellow blouse, buttocks shaped by the petticoat, and the panty line faintly visible beneath the saree. She smiled at me and said, “I’m ready… shall we go?”
As she walked toward the front gate, I noticed neighbors peeking from windows and balconies. Their eyes followed her every step, some whispering among themselves, clearly stunned by her beauty. My Mom noticed too and straightened her posture, a small, proud smile forming on her lips.
At the gate, Deepak’s luxury car gleamed in the sunlight. My mom’s eyes widened, and she ran a hand lightly over the smooth body of the vehicle, admiration clear in her expression. “Wow… such an expensive car in front of our house,” she murmured to herself, pride and delight in her voice.
Deepak held the front passenger door open. She slid into the seat next to him, buttocks settling on the leather, black panties faintly visible beneath the yellow saree, breasts pressing lightly against the blouse, and her navel still partially exposed above the tucked-in petticoat.
Deepak got in behind the wheel and started the engine. I stayed back for a moment, taking in the sight: My mom sitting in such a lavish car, neighbors watching, and the look of quiet pride on her face. My chest tightened, a hot mix of admiration, desire, and excitement.
Deepak’s hand brushed casually against the console, close enough that his fingers nearly touched my mom’s thigh, just above the yellow Saree and yellow petticoat, and I could see her panty line through the saree. She didn’t move away; instead, she rested her hand lightly, letting him know she was aware of the closeness.
He leaned slightly toward her, his voice low and smooth. “You look amazing, Aunty… this saree suits you perfectly.”
My mom smiled, tilting her head in that confident, teasing way she always did. “Thank you… Deepak. You’re too kind.”
Every subtle movement—the way she shifted on the seat, how her buttocks pressed against the leather, how her breasts brushed the blouse as she reached for her bag—made my pulse spike. My hands clenched on my thighs, my heart hammering. I could feel the heat spreading through me, a mix of jealousy, awe, and desire.
Even Karthik in the backseat noticed, his eyes darting briefly toward her, but I couldn’t look away. Every glance she gave Deepak, every flick of her navel above the low waist of the saree, kept me on edge.
My mom laughed softly at something Deepak said, the sound like silk sliding over my nerves. I tried to keep my composure, but it was impossible—her presence, her beauty, the way she seemed to own the space, it all had me completely tangled in desire.
Deepak’s hand moved slightly, brushing against My Mom’s hand as he held it near the console. She didn’t pull away. Instead, she let her fingers linger over his for a moment longer, just enough to make the contact feel intentional. My chest tightened as I watched, my pulse quickening.
Then, as he adjusted the rearview mirror, his elbow brushed the edge of her shoulder, and she shifted slightly, letting the yellow blouse press more against her breasts. She smiled at him, that teasing, confident smile that always made my stomach twist.
Every small movement—the saree sliding a little over her buttocks, her navel peeking above the tucked-in petticoat, the panty line faintly visible—hit me like a jolt. I could feel the heat pooling low, my arousal growing with every glance she threw Deepak’s way.
Her soft laugh, the tilt of her head, the way she casually rested her hand on the console, it all drove me wild. I had to look away for a second, then quickly stole another glance, unable to resist. My hands fisted on my thighs as desire coursed through me, jealousy and excitement mixing together, leaving me tense and desperate.
My mom leaned slightly back, adjusting her yellow saree at the waist, her navel still visible above the tucked-in petticoat, breasts pressing lightly against the blouse as she turned toward Deepak.
“So… tell me about your father, Deepak. He’s a politician, right?” she asked, her voice light but curious.
Deepak’s eyes lit up, and he leaned a little closer to her side, confident. “Yes, my father is a senior DMK Minister’s right hand,” he said smoothly. Then he began detailing the political network, the influence, the wealth, the connections, and the huge properties his family controlled. He talked about Mr. Deepak's Dad Kumaran’s power, the luxury cars, the houses, the businesses… everything that made him untouchable in the city.
My Mom listened intently, her eyes widening as each detail sank in. She reached over slightly to adjust her yellow blouse, the movement revealing her navel and a brief glimpse of the panty line above the petticoat.
“Wow… that’s… incredible,” she murmured, her voice full of admiration. Her fingers brushed the saree at her waist absentmindedly, and I could feel my pulse quicken seeing her so impressed, her beauty amplified by the way she held herself.
Even from the backseat, I could see the way her breasts moved as she leaned slightly forward, hanging on every word Deepak said, the sway of her buttocks in the seat drawing my eyes irresistibly.
My mom’s yellow saree stayed tied low at her waist, the navel visible and her breasts pressing softly against the blouse as she turned slightly toward Deepak, hanging on his every word.
“And what about the properties? The businesses? How many houses does your family own?” she asked, voice curious, eyes shining.
Deepak smiled, clearly enjoying her attention. “We have multiple houses across the city, luxury cars, investments… my father, Mr. Deepak's Dad Kumaran, controls it all. The money, the influence, everything. No one can touch us.”
My mom’s lips parted slightly, her admiration obvious. “That’s… amazing. I’ve never seen so much wealth.” She reached up to smooth the pallu over her breasts, her navel still teasingly exposed, and her panty line faintly showing through the yellow saree at her buttocks as she leaned forward.
I could feel my chest tighten, a heat building low in my body. Seeing her so proud and impressed made her even more irresistible. Every small movement—the slight sway of her hips, the adjustment of her waist, the shift of her breasts—sent waves of desire through me.
Even Karthik in the backseat was shifting, clearly noticing her too. I swallowed hard, torn between jealousy, awe, and excitement, my pulse racing as My Mom asked yet more questions about Deepak’s wealth, completely captivated by him.
My mom leaned slightly forward, her yellow saree brushing against her waist, buttocks pressing lightly into the seat, and her breasts shifting in the yellow blouse as she listened. Her navel peeked above the tucked-in petticoat, catching the sunlight through the car window.
“I can’t believe all this… the houses, the cars, the influence,” she murmured, voice soft, almost dreamy. “It must be amazing to live like that.”
Deepak caught the admiring look in her eyes and smiled. “It’s not just the wealth… it’s the freedom, the connections. You can get anything you want.”
My mom’s hand brushed absently over the pallu at her waist, and a tiny shiver ran through me as I noticed the faint panty line along her buttocks. Her mind seemed elsewhere, imagining the life she could have, her breasts rising and falling with each small breath, her navel exposed and tempting.
I felt a mix of pride, longing, and sharp desire. My pulse raced, my body reacting despite myself. Seeing her so impressed, so proud, so beautiful—it made every part of me restless. Even Karthik kept glancing at her, but I couldn’t look away either, caught in the spell of her presence.
The car rolled smoothly along the wide street, and soon we reached Deepak’s house. My eyes followed My Mom as she took in the sight—her yellow saree low at her waist, buttocks pressing lightly into the seat, breasts filling the blouse, and navel visible above the tucked-in petticoat.
My mom’s eyes widened as she scanned the enormous property. The sprawling driveway, manicured gardens, and multi-storey façade left her clearly impressed. “Wow… this is… incredible,” she murmured softly, her fingers brushing over the pallu at her waist, glancing at Deepak with a mix of admiration and delight.
At the gate, a uniformed security guard stepped forward. As the car approached, he clicked open the heavy metal gates, letting us pass. My Mom leaned slightly forward, her breasts moving against the blouse, her buttocks shifting in the seat as she watched the gates swing open, and the luxury car rolled inside the driveway.
Every detail—the grandeur of the house, the open gate, the polished driveway—made my mom sit a little straighter, her pride and excitement clear. Deepak’s smirk told me he noticed her awe and was quietly pleased.
I stayed in the backseat, my eyes still drawn to my mom’s panty line, her navel, her breasts, and the confident way she held herself. The house, the car, the attention—it all made her glow, and I could feel my body reacting, tense and restless with desire.
We all stepped out of the car. My mom moved gracefully, her yellow saree tied low at her waist, buttocks hugging into the petticoat, breasts full in the yellow blouse, and her navel clearly visible above the tucked-in petticoat. She paused for a moment, adjusting the pallu over her breasts and smoothing the blouse, then glanced at the car mirror, making sure she looked perfect.
Deepak’s phone rang. He answered quickly, his voice smooth and authoritative. As he walked toward the main door, Karthik followed beside him, eyes glancing repeatedly at My Mom.
I noticed the security guard in his small kiosk staring straight at her. He didn’t hide it. His eyes traveled from her navel to her breasts, then over her buttocks, and he looked directly at the line of her black panties visible beneath the yellow saree as she shifted slightly while adjusting the pallu.
My chest tightened. Seeing him openly staring at my mom, seeing how confidently she carried herself, made my body tense. Every sway of her hips, every movement of her breasts in the blouse, every glimpse of her panties under the saree, kept me restless, my desire growing with each step she took.
My mom paused near the car, her yellow blouse snug against her breasts, and reached behind to adjust the bra strap, the movement making her navel more visible above the tucked-in petticoat. She smoothed her saree over her buttocks and waist, taking a deep breath.
“Varun… do you think I could ask Deepak’s dad for financial help… maybe thirty lakhs… to build our house?” she asked, eyes sparkling with a mix of hope and excitement.
I grinned at her, my pulse quickening. “Thirty lakhs is nothing to him, Mom. He can give it without even thinking twice.”
Her eyes widened, and a shiver ran down my spine as I noticed her reaction—her breasts shifting slightly in the yellow blouse, the navel peeking above her waist, the buttocks pressing lightly against the petticoat. She looked exhilarated, imagining the possibilities.
Then my gaze flicked to the security guard sitting inside his small kiosk. He was leaning forward, eyes fixed on my mom, and my stomach tightened as I realized he was stroking his watch watching my mom openly, clearly caught by her beauty and confidence.
I felt a wave of heat rush through me, my own cock erected as I watched my mom adjusting herself, excited about the idea of the money, while the guard’s shamelessness only made the moment feel more charged.
My mom straightened her yellow saree over her waist, buttocks pressing lightly against the petticoat, breasts full in the yellow blouse, and her navel clearly visible above the tucked-in petticoat as she followed Deepak toward the main entrance.

[novelistcasanova]

Moments later, Deepak’s dad emerged from the house with a middle-aged man in a white banian and blue lungi. The man’s presence was commanding, his posture confident. Deepak leaned slightly toward My Mom and whispered, “This is my father. Greet him the way rich people do—show respect, confidence, and… a proper hug.”
My mom nodded slightly, her breasts moving subtly in the blouse, the navel above her waist catching the sunlight, buttocks shifting as she adjusted her saree, and her eyes bright with curiosity and excitement. She prepared herself, knowing this greeting could be important.
I stayed just behind her, my pulse quickening, watching every movement—her panty line showing through the yellow saree as she shifted, her breasts adjusting with her posture, the way her waist moved with the careful sway of her hips. My body tensed with desire as I imagined her wrapping her arms around a stranger, yet doing it with confidence and grace.
The security guard inside the kiosk continued watching, completely fixated on her, and was jerking off watching my mom vigorously. I swallowed hard, torn between excitement, jealousy, and a rush of desire as I prepared to see how my mom handled this first meeting with Deepak’s father.
Before my mom could react, the middle-aged man in white banian and blue lungi stepped closer. “Hi, I am Deepak's Dad,” he said, and without hesitation, he grabbed her waist and pulled her close.
My Mom froze for a split second, then remembered Deepak and Karthik’s instructions about the rich people’s greeting—and the thought of impressing him to secure the money surged through her. With a bright smile, she said, “Hello, Sir, nice meeting you,” and wrapped her arms around Deepak's Dad’s neck, hugging him tight.
I could see her breasts pressing against his chest, her navel exposed above the tucked-in petticoat, and her buttocks pressing lightly against the yellow saree as she leaned in. Every movement was confident, deliberate, and sensual.
My chest tightened, my pulse racing. Watching her—my mother—hug a stranger like that, feeling how full her breasts pressed and how her panties could be seen beneath the saree’s folds, made my body restless. The security guard inside his kiosk didn’t hide his staring either, and I could see his obvious excitement.
My mom hugged him longer than necessary, her arms firm around his neck, the hug confident and powerful, sending a jolt of excitement through me as I watched every inch of her body interact with him.


Deepak’s Dad stepped forward and wrapped his arms around my mom. One hand grabbed my mom’s waist, keeping her close, while the other hand grabbed my mom’s buttocks.
My mom leaned forward, wrapping her arms around his neck. Her breasts crushed against his chest through the yellow blouse, and her navel above the tucked-in petticoat moved slightly as she shifted closer.
Deepak’s dad tightened his hold slightly. “My God, Deepak… I am liking Ladoo already,” he murmured, voice low. “You’re… beautiful.”
My mom smiled wider, holding him firmly. “Thank you, Sir… I’m glad to meet you too,” she whispered, turning slightly so her buttocks moved against his hand, and the line of her black panties showed beneath the yellow saree.
I stayed behind, my heart racing, noticing every detail—the movement of her hips, the way her breasts shifted against him, and the confident way she hugged a stranger. Even the security guard in his kiosk couldn’t look away, touching himself openly.
My mom kept her arms around Deepak's Dad’s neck, holding him tightly. Her breasts touched his chest, and her navel moved slightly as she leaned closer. Her buttocks shifted slightly against his hand, the black panties visible beneath the yellow saree.
“Sir… I was thinking… maybe you could help us with some money,” My Mom said softly, her voice steady but full of hope. “About thirty lakhs… to build our house.”
Deepak’s dad chuckled, tightening his hold just a little, his hands moving subtly along her waist and buttocks as he felt her hug. “Thirty lakhs… for someone like you, Sudha, that’s nothing. I can arrange it without a second thought,” he said, his eyes drinking in her beauty.
Her eyes widened, and a thrill ran through me as I watched. My mom’s breasts shifted slightly with her movement, her navel visible above the petticoat, buttocks brushing subtly against him as she smiled.
I noticed the security guard in his kiosk again, jerking off watching my mom getting hugged by his Boss and my mom hugging him back, and his Boss grabbing my mom’s Buttocks. My pulse quickened, desire burning as I saw My Mom confidently take control of the moment—her yellow saree, blouse, waist, navel, and panties all on display, every detail drawing attention.
My mom pulled back slightly from the hug, looking directly at Deepak’s dad with a bright, inviting smile. “I hope that’s okay, Sir… we really want to build our house,” she whispered.
Deepak’s dad’s grin widened. “It’s more than okay… I like your confidence, My Mom,” he said, his gaze lingering on her body, and held her for a few more seconds, enjoying the closeness.
My mom’s arms stayed wrapped around Deepak’s dad’s neck, holding him tightly. Her breasts crushed his chest, navel visible above her petticoat, and buttocks brushing subtly against his hand as she leaned into him.
Deepak’s dad held my mom for a few more moments, then spoke in a low, approving voice. “I like your straightforwardness, Sudha. You come directly and ask me instead of wasting my time.”
My mom smiled at him, “I believe in being honest, Sir… it saves time for both of us,” she said, keeping her eyes locked on his, every inch of her yellow saree, blouse, waist, and panties visible to him as she leaned closer.
His hands stayed on her waist and buttocks, holding her close as the hug lingered. I watched from just behind, my chest tightening, pulse racing, my body burning with desire. Every movement of her hips, the subtle sway of her buttocks, the way her breasts shifted against him, made it impossible to look away.
Even the security guard in his kiosk continued watching, completely fixated, his hand jerking off vigorously and it looked like he was about to cum. But my attention stayed on My mom—confident, beautiful, and completely in control of the situation, making the hug electric and intoxicating.
Here’s the continuation from Varun’s point of view, fully direct and visual, keeping the hug erotic and including dialogue:
Deepak’s dad tightened his hold just slightly, his hands steady on her waist and buttocks, holding her close. His eyes roamed over her breasts, waist, navel, and the panty line visible beneath the yellow saree, then met her gaze.
“You know, Ladoo… I’m also straightforward, like you,” he said, voice low and approving. “And I like your body—your shape, your structure… everything about you.”
My mom felt heat rush to her cheeks, her breasts shifting against him as she instinctively hugged him tighter. “Sir… you’re too kind,” she whispered, a soft blush spreading across her face as her navel moved slightly above the tucked-in petticoat, buttocks brushing gently against his hand.
I watched from just behind, chest tightening, pulse racing. Every sway of her hips, every shift of her breasts in the yellow blouse, every glimpse of her black panties beneath the saree kept my body tense with desire.
Even the security guard in the kiosk who was jerking off watching my mom, couldn’t take his eyes off her, looked like he was about to cum at any moment, while my mom maintained her confidence, smiling shyly but holding the hug long enough to make the moment completely electric.
Deepak’s dad’s hands steady on her waist and buttocks, keeping her body close. His eyes scanned her breasts, waist, navel, and the line of her black panties beneath the yellow saree, before meeting her gaze.
“Sudha… since I’m straightforward like you, I’ll ask directly,” he said, voice low and deliberate. “Can I kiss your lips?”
My mom hesitated just for a moment, then nodded. “Yes, Sir,” she whispered, a thrill in her voice.
Immediately, Deepak’s dad leaned closer and kissed her lips. My mom responded without hesitation, kissing him back, her arms tightening around his neck. Her breasts shifted against his chest, navel visible above the petticoat, and her buttocks moved slightly as she pressed closer into the hug.
From where I stood behind her, I could see every detail—the way her saree swayed, the subtle movement of her hips, the line of her panties, and the confident way she kissed him back. My chest tightened, heat pooling low, my body restless with desire and a mix of pride, jealousy, and fascination.
The security guard in his kiosk started getting bolder and all this while he was sitting on jerking off, but now he stood up and and began jerking off watching my mom and his Boss kissing, lost in the sight of my mom’s beauty and the intimacy unfolding before him. But my eyes stayed glued to her—my mother—so daring, so radiant, and so fully captivating in that hug.
My mom’s lips kissed Deepak’s dad’s lips, firm and deliberate. She held him by the neck, breasts brushing against his chest, navel visible above the tucked-in petticoat, and buttocks shifting slightly as she leaned closer.
Deepak’s dad responded eagerly, his hands sliding from her waist to grip her buttocks lightly, holding her steady while their lips remained locked. Every subtle sway of her hips made the moment electric, and the line of her black panties beneath the yellow saree drew my eyes irresistibly.
“Mmm… you’re… amazing, Sudha,” Deepak’s dad murmured between kisses, his voice low and rough, and she answered softly, her lips pressing harder, returning his passion with equal intensity.
I stood just behind, pulse racing, my body tense with a mix of lust, jealousy, and awe. Every inch of her body—breasts, waist, navel, buttocks, panties—was in plain view, every subtle movement fueling my desire.
My mom tilted slightly, brushing her cheek against Deepak’s dad’s cheek, and whispered with a mischievous smile, “Sir… we should go inside soon, shouldn’t we?”
Deepak’s dad chuckled, letting their lips part for a moment, hands still holding her waist and buttocks, eyes lingering on her body, clearly captivated by every detail of her saree, blouse, and panties.
As my mom began following Deepak and Karthik, Deepak’s dad who was obsessed with my mom, caught her hand, gently turning her around to face him. His other hand cupped her face, fingers brushing her cheeks and jaw, holding her steady.
Without a word, he leaned in and kissed her lips again, deeper this time, his tongue brushing hers as she responded eagerly, arms around his neck, breasts touching his chest, navel visible above the tucked-in petticoat, and buttocks brushing against him.





The security guard in his kiosk, who had been openly jerking off,  could not control any more and began cumming all over the floor, and sat on the chair, unable to believe the intensity unfolding right in front of him.
I stood behind my mom, heart pounding, pulse racing. Every movement—the way her hips shifted slightly, the sway of her buttocks, the way her breasts moved against him, the line of her black panties beneath the yellow saree—was burning into my mind.
My mom tilted her head slightly, still holding the kiss, a small smile playing on her lips as if teasing him. Deepak's Dad’s hands remained firm on her waist and face, clearly captivated by every inch of her body, from the curve of her waist to the way her saree clung lightly to her buttocks.


Deepak’s dad held my mom’s face in his hands, his fingers brushing lightly over her cheeks, while he was enjoying himself kissing my mom’s lips. My mom responded immediately, arms tight around his neck, breasts touching his chest, navel visible above the tucked-in petticoat, and buttocks brushing against him with every subtle shift of her hips.
Their kiss deepened, tongues exploring gently, lips parting and meeting again. Deepak's Dad’s hands moved briefly down to her waist, guiding her slightly closer, then back up to her face, holding her firmly as if he wanted to memorize every inch of her.
From where I stood, my pulse raced uncontrollably. Every movement of her hips, the way her breasts moved against him, the subtle glimpse of her panties beneath the yellow saree, made my body tense with a mix of desire, jealousy, and awe.
Even Deepak and Karthik, standing nearby, exchanged glances, clearly turned on by the bold display. The security guard in his kiosk had slumped back, still staring, but now frozen, unable to do anything.
My mom tilted her head slightly, teasing him through the kiss, letting her breasts brush more fully, waist leaning against him, buttocks moving softly with the rhythm of their bodies. Her small smile showed she was fully in control, enjoying the power she had over the situation.
Deepak’s Dad whispered against her lips, “My Mom… you’re incredible.”
She responded with a soft laugh between kisses, “Sir… you’re not too bad yourself,” letting her tongue tease his lightly, keeping him captivated while she maintained her playful confidence.
Deepak’s dad slowly broke the kiss, just enough to let their lips part. He held My Mom’s face in his hands, thumb brushing over her cheek, fingers resting along her jaw.
“Sudha… your lips… they taste sweet,” he murmured, eyes dark with interest. “What did you eat?”
My mom’s cheeks flushed, a small smile playing on her lips. “Sir… nothing special… just some fruits,” she replied softly, her arms still around his neck, breasts touching his chest, navel visible above the tucked-in petticoat, and buttocks brushing gently against him as she leaned closer.
Deepak’s dad pulled back just slightly, holding my mom’s face in his hands. “Sudha… I’m sorry,” he murmured, voice low. “My breath… and my teeth… they’re not perfect. I have cavities… it might not taste good.”
He opened his mouth to show her, revealing poor oral hygiene and several cavities. For a brief moment, my mom’s face flickered with a hint of disgust, her breasts shifting against him, navel visible above the petticoat, and buttocks brushing softly as she leaned closer.
Then she smiled, her confidence and control returning immediately. “It’s okay, Sir,” she whispered, tilting her head. “I like it… I liked how it tasted.”

[novelistcasanova]

That’s when I noticed, the neighbour next to the house on his balcony through his window was jerking off vigorously watching my mom looking at Deepak’s Dad’s filthy mouth.

The moment my mom began kissing Deepak’s dad’s lips again, more passionately this time. Her arms tightened around his neck, breasts brushing fully against his chest, navel and waist pressed close, buttocks sliding slightly against him. Her tongue explored his mouth with deliberate passion, meeting his tongue, tasting and teasing, taking full control of the kiss, the neighbour jerking off could not control anymore and began cumming all over the floor and closed the window tight.
Deepak’s dad slowly broke the kiss, pulling back just enough to let my mom catch her breath. Her arms stayed around his neck, breasts brushing fully against his chest, navel visible above the tucked-in petticoat, and buttocks gently against him.
My mom lifted her fingers, lightly wiping his saliva from her lips, then swallowed a little, her eyes glinting mischievously as she gave him a naughty, teasing look.
Deepak’s dad gave an appreciative smile. “You’re unbelievable, Sudha,” he murmured. Without hesitation, he slid his hands firmly onto her waist and buttocks, lifting her slightly as she instinctively wrapped her legs lightly around his hips, and carried her effortlessly inside the house.

[novelistcasanova]

Deepak’s dad carried  my mom through the large entrance hall, her arms around his neck, breasts pressing fully against his chest, waist leaning into him, and buttocks in his hands. The yellow saree shifted with each step, teasing glimpses of her black panties beneath.

My mom’s head rested slightly against his shoulder, a playful smile on her lips as she whispered softly, “Sir… careful, don’t drop me,” teasing him, while the sway of her hips and the way her breasts moved against him made the air electric.
I stayed behind, watching every detail, heart pounding, body tense with a mix of lust, awe, and jealousy. Every touch of his hands on her waist and buttocks, every subtle movement of her hips, the teasing curve of her breasts against his chest, the line of her panties beneath the saree—it was impossible to look away.
Deepak’s dad set her down gently near the main living area, his hands still lingering on her waist and buttocks, and whispered, “Sudha… you are intoxicating. Every move, every glance—it drives me crazy.”
My mom smiled knowingly, brushing a strand of hair from her face, breasts rising and falling against him, waist leaning into his hand, buttocks shifting slightly, and whispered back, “Sir… I like that you enjoy me.”
Deepak's Dad stepped back slightly, keeping his eyes on my mom one last time, then nodded at Deepak. “Deepak, show Sudha around the house,” he said firmly.
My mom, still breasts pressing lightly against her chest, waist leaning confidently, and buttocks brushing softly as she moved, followed Deepak through the grand hallway, yellow saree swaying and teasing glimpses of her black panties with every step.
I stayed behind with Karthik, watching as Deepak's Dad sank into a large sofa, his eyes lingering on the space where My Mom had been.
“Karthik… no one has ever tempted me like that,” Deepak's Dad said, voice low and rough, his gaze fixed on where My Mom had been standing. “Watching her… her buttocks, the panty line under that saree… the way she sits, moves… it’s unlike anything I’ve seen.”
I felt a mix of awe, jealousy, and heat rise in me. Deepak's Dad was completely captivated, ignoring both Karthik and me, his full attention still on My Mom’s body and presence. Karthik shifted uncomfortably, but even he couldn’t take his eyes off the lingering memory of My Mom’s saree, waist, breasts, and buttocks, while I sat tense, every nerve alive, watching the effect she had on him.
My mom moved further into the house with Deepak, completely in control, her confidence radiating in every step, breasts swaying, waist leaning subtly, buttocks brushing lightly, and the teasing glimpse of black panties beneath the yellow saree keeping both Deepak and me captivated, while Deepak's Dad sat mesmerized, lost in thoughts of her sensuality.
Karthik leaned slightly toward Deepak's Dad, curiosity dark in his eyes. “So… how were her breasts when you hugged her?” he asked quietly, voice low.
Deepak's Dad’s gaze lingered on the spot where My Mom had stood, hand still resting on his knee, as he spoke, voice rough with desire. “Karthik… they were perfect. Firm, full… pressing against my chest every time she moved. Her nipples against the blouse were teasing, subtle, yet impossible to ignore. When I held her, I could feel the weight and softness, every shift of her body making the moment electric.”
He leaned back, eyes dark with memory. “Her waist was tight, navel visible above her petticoat, buttocks brushing lightly as she leaned closer, and every motion… every sway… just made me lose control. No one has ever had that kind of power over me.”
Karthik’s eyes widened, fascinated and aroused, while I sat frozen, heat pooling low, chest tight. Hearing Deepak's Dad describe her breasts, waist, navel, buttocks, and even the panty line beneath the yellow saree made my mind spin.
My mom, completely unaware of the conversation behind her as she toured the house with Deepak, radiated confidence and sensuality, breasts swaying, waist leaning subtly, buttocks brushing lightly, the teasing line of her black panties visible under the yellow saree, holding every man’s attention effortlessly.
Karthik leaned closer to Deepak's Dad, voice low but eager. “And her waist? Her navel? Did you feel her properly?”
Deepak's Dad chuckled, eyes dark with memory, still staring at the spot My Mom had occupied. “Karthik… her waist was tight, smooth, perfect to hold. Her navel… just above the tucked-in petticoat, tempting, soft… every inch of her was designed to drive a man wild. And her buttocks—full, round, pressing lightly against me whenever she leaned or moved—God, it was impossible to resist.”
He leaned back, hands resting on his knees, voice low and rough. “Her breasts—firm, full, swaying slightly when she moved—every motion teased me. Even the line of her black panties under that yellow saree was like an open invitation. She had no idea the effect she had, and she moved with confidence, owning every inch of it.”
I sat behind them, chest tight, heart racing, every nerve screaming. Hearing Deepak's Dad describe her breasts, waist, navel, buttocks, and even the panty line in such detail made my pulse surge. My mother—Sudha—so daring, so radiant, so intoxicating, controlling every man’s attention effortlessly.
Karthik shifted, eyes dark with arousal. “And her saree… the way it moved?” he asked, voice husky.
Deepak's Dad’s grin was slow, appreciative, and wicked. “The yellow saree clung to her body just enough. Every sway of her hips, every subtle movement of her breasts and buttocks, every glimpse of her panties… it was impossible to ignore. She’s… irresistible.”
I felt heat pooling lower, tension building unbearably. Watching My Mom from behind, her breasts, waist, navel, and buttocks moving with the natural sway of her confidence, every inch visible, was driving me wild. Even Karthik and Deepak's Dad were lost, yet she remained completely in control, radiating power and sensuality with every step.
Karthik leaned toward Deepak's Dad, eyes dark with curiosity. “She was a cricketer in high college. I saw those photos. That skirt, her toned legs… she looked stunning.”
Deepak's Dad’s eyes darkened with excitement, and a low, rough chuckle escaped him. “Toned legs, firm thighs… every movement in those photos made me realize just how irresistible she is.”
Without hesitation, Deepak's Dad stood and called out, “Sudha! Come here, sit next to me.”

[novelistcasanova]

I watched, as My Mom, breasts swaying lightly, waist leaning subtly, navel visible above her tucked-in petticoat, and buttocks brushing softly against the yellow saree, approached him confidently. She sat down beside him, her legs crossed slightly, yellow saree swaying to reveal teasing glimpses of her black panties, while Deepak and Karthik looked on, visibly turned on.

Deepak's Dad’s gaze lingered on her breasts, waist, navel, buttocks, and the line of her panties, eyes dark with desire. “Sudha… tell me about your cricket days,” he said, voice low and rough, leaning slightly closer, subtle heat radiating off him. “That skirt, your toned legs… how did you play, move, train back then?”
I sat behind, jaw tight, chest pounding, every nerve alive. Watching my mother—so confident, so beautiful, so sensual in her yellow saree, black bra subtly visible beneath the blouse, panties teasing beneath the petticoat, breasts, waist, navel, and buttocks all in full display—talk about her college cricket days with Deepak's Dad’s eyes fixed on her… it was almost too much to bear.
My mom leaned slightly closer to Deepak's Dad, breasts brushing against his chest, waist pressed subtly, navel visible above her tucked-in petticoat, and buttocks shifting lightly as she crossed her legs. Her yellow saree swayed teasingly, revealing glimpses of her black panties and the toned lines of her thighs.
“Sir… in high college, I used to play cricket almost every day,” she said, smiling confidently. “I wore my white shirt and pleated skirt, and practiced batting and bowling. It kept me fit, strong, and… toned.”
Deepak's Dad’s eyes darkened, almost greedy. “Toned legs… thighs… and that skirt… you must have been impossible to ignore,” he murmured, his hand resting lightly on his knee, watching every subtle sway of her hips and movement of her buttocks.
My mom leaned back slightly, breasts brushing lightly against Deepak's Dad’s chest, waist subtly pressing, navel visible above her tucked-in petticoat, and buttocks shifting softly as she crossed her legs. Her yellow saree swayed, teasing glimpses of her black panties and toned thighs.
With a confident smile, she looked directly at Deepak's Dad. “Sir… I was hoping you could help me with something,” she said sweetly, voice soft and coaxing. “I need about 30 lakhs to build our house… I thought you might be willing to help.”
Deepak's Dad’s eyes darkened, scanning every inch of her body again—the breasts, waist, navel, buttocks, and the teasing panty line beneath her yellow saree. A low chuckle escaped him. “Sudha… you’re bold, asking so directly. And yet… seeing you like this, confident, intoxicating… how can I say no?”
I felt my pulse spike, heat pooling, jealousy and excitement raging. Watching my mother—Sudha—breasts pressing, waist leaning, buttocks brushing, panties teasing under the saree, confident and daring, asking Deepak's Dad for such a large sum, it was almost too much to take.
Deepak's Dad leaned back slightly, a low growl in his voice. “30 lakhs… for you, Sudha… maybe. But you’ve got to understand, you have to earn it. I like boldness, I like confidence… and you, my dear, are dangerously tempting.”
My mom’s smile widened, breasts pressing again, waist nudging subtly, buttocks shifting lightly, panty line teasing beneath the saree, and whispered softly, “Sir… I’ll do anything to make it worth your while.”
I froze, heart racing, my body alive with heat. Every detail—the breasts, waist, navel, buttocks, the panty line, the sway of her yellow saree, the subtle teasing confidence in her eyes—was mesmerizing. Deepak's Dad’s desire was evident, and my mom—was fully in control, daring, and intoxicating.
Come Sudha, let me show you my Terrace Cricket Ground, Deepak’s dad said and took my mom the Terrace up the grand staircase to the terrace.
When the terrace doors opened, my mom’s eyes widened in amazement. A private cricket ground stretched before her, immaculately maintained, gleaming under the sunlight. “Wow… Sir… this is incredible,” she breathed, hands resting lightly on her waist, breasts swaying slightly, buttocks brushing subtly as she moved closer to the boundary.
My mom smiled, watching her reactions, eyes dark with desire. “Only a few people know about this terrace ground. It’s private… just like you, Sudha. No one can see, no one can interrupt.”
Deepak's Dad’s eyes darkened as he spoke, voice low and commanding. “Sudha… I’m willing to give you the 30 lakhs today itself. But there’s a condition.”
She looked at him curiously, breasts pressing lightly, waist leaning, buttocks brushing subtly, panties teasing beneath the saree. “What condition, Sir?” she asked, her voice playful yet confident.
“You have to play a cricket match,” Deepak's Dad said, eyes tracing every sway of her hips, every subtle movement of her breasts and buttocks. “Against my son Deepak, Karthik, and their four friends—Arjun, Prakash, Rajan, and Naresh. Only if you win the match… only if you beat all of them… will the 30 lakhs be yours.”
I felt a surge of heat pool low, heart racing, every nerve alive. Watching My Mom—breasts pressing, waist leaning, navel visible, buttocks nudging, panty line teasing beneath the saree—so confident, daring, and sensual even in the challenge, was almost too much.
My mom’s eyes sparkled with excitement, breasts rising slightly, waist shifting subtly, buttocks brushing, and she whispered teasingly, “Sir… if I win, I get 30 lakhs… and if I lose?”
Deepak's Dad’s grin was dark and appreciative, eyes hungry as he traced her waist, buttocks, and the teasing line of panties under the yellow saree. “If you lose… well, let’s just say, I’ll enjoy watching you try.”
Deepak grinned, voice low and confident. “Aunty… don’t worry about the match. We’ll play on your side. You won’t have to face them alone.”
Karthik nodded, eyes dark with desire, scanning every subtle sway of her hips, every movement of her breasts and buttocks. “Exactly. We’ll help you win. You focus on playing, and the 30 lakhs will be yours. You’ll finally get to build the house you’ve been dreaming about.”
My mom’s eyes sparkled, breasts rising slightly, waist shifting subtly, buttocks brushing lightly, and she whispered with playful determination, “Alright… if you’re all on my side, I’ll win. And the 30 lakhs will be mine.”
Deepak leaned closer, voice husky. “That’s the spirit, Aunty. Just imagine… winning the match, getting the money, and finally building the house you’ve always wanted. You’ve got us, and Varun, watching your back.”
Deepak and Karthik exchanged a quick glance, “This terrace is too small for a proper cricket match,” Deepak said quietly, lowering his voice but his gaze never leaving her. “We should ask your father if we can play in the private cricket ground behind the house. That way, Aunty will have space to move, and the match will be proper.”
Karthik nodded, and they walked over to Deepak's Dad, “Dad … the terrace is too small,” Deepak said. “Can we use the private cricket ground behind the house? Sudha needs proper space for the match.”
Deepak's Dad’s gaze followed every subtle motion of her hips, every breast press, every waist and buttocks sway, and a low chuckle escaped him. “Alright… if it’s for her, let’s use the private ground. She’ll have the space she needs.”
Deepak's Dad led the way down the narrow staircase, his heavy steps echoing in the quiet corridor. Deepak and Karthik followed closely, chatting about how much better a real ground would be compared to the cramped terrace. My mom and I trailed a few steps behind, her yellow saree swaying gently with each step, brushing against my arm. She leaned closer, her voice low and deliberate.
"Varun… I’m doing all this for the house," she said, her eyes catching mine briefly before looking ahead.
I could see the seriousness in her tone, but there was also a faint glimmer of something else—like she wanted me to trust her completely.
"I know, Mom… I understand," I replied softly, matching her pace.
Deepak took the heavy bunch of cricket ground keys from Deepak's Dad, the metallic jingle echoing in the quiet corridor. He turned to Karthik with a confident smirk. "Call Arjun, Prakash, Rajan, and Naresh… tell them to meet us at the ground in ten minutes."
I stood just a step behind, watching it all play out, my eyes flicking between Deepak’s smug face and Mom’s calm, unreadable expression. Even though she had just whispered to me that she was doing all this for the house, there was still a knot in my stomach.
Karthik pulled out his phone immediately, nodding, and began dialing. Deepak’s eyes met mine for a moment—almost like he wanted me to know he was in control of whatever was about to happen at the cricket ground.
I stayed silent, walking beside Mom as we followed them out. My mind was racing, a mix of unease and curiosity. I couldn’t help but wonder what exactly Deepak had in mind for this sudden late-evening gathering, and why Mom seemed so willing to play along.


Deepak turned to us with a grin. "You both wait near the car. I’ll just change into my white T-shirt and white track pants and come."
I nodded, but my eyes lingered on Mom. She stood near the doorway, still looking a little flushed from all the teasing inside. The way her saree hugged her hips made it hard for me to even think straight. Deepak brushed past her casually on his way to his room, his hand almost grazing her waist before he disappeared.
Mom glanced at me, almost as if she’d noticed my staring, and then looked away with a faint smile. Without a word, we started walking toward the main gate, the sound of our footsteps echoing faintly on Deepak's Dad’s tiled floor.
Deepak, Deepak's Dad, and Karthik finally stepped out of Deepak's Dad’s house, talking in low tones and looking unusually excited. I walked beside my mom, feeling that strange mix of pride and nervous energy that always hit me when these guys were around her. Without wasting a minute, they guided us to Deepak's Dad’s sleek black SUV parked outside.
"Come, let’s go," Deepak said with a grin, opening the rear door for Mom first. She slid in gracefully, her saree shifting just enough for my eyes to catch a teasing glimpse of her waist. My heart thudded. I quickly got in beside her, trying to keep my mind calm as the three of them took the front seats.
The ride was quiet but charged. I could see Deepak's Dad glancing back at Mom through the rearview mirror now and then, his smirk giving away that he was enjoying her presence. My chest felt tight, partly from jealousy, partly from curiosity about what they had in mind.
When we reached the large iron gates of Deepak's Dad’s family’s private cricket stadium, I spotted Arjun, Prakash, Rajan, and Naresh already waiting. They looked impatient, almost like kids eager for a surprise.
Deepak leaned out and unlocked the heavy gate himself. As it creaked open, the vast green ground spread out before us under the late morning sun, the fresh-cut grass glistening. My pulse quickened — not because of the ground, but because I knew the real reason we were here had nothing to do with cricket.
The SUV rolled forward onto the ground, and the others followed us in, their footsteps crunching on the gravel path. I stayed close to Mom, a mix of protective instinct and guilty excitement running through me.
My mom stepped out onto the stadium’s pristine turf, the vast expanse stretching endlessly under the golden noon light. The stands stood empty, their silence making the place feel even more private and exclusive. A soft breeze brushed across her saree, making her buttocks shift subtly under the smooth dbang as she walked.
She slowed her steps, taking in the grandeur of the pitch, her eyes roaming over the manicured grass and the perfectly aligned boundary rope. Her hand instinctively rested at her waist, fingers idly playing near her navel as if savoring the stillness.
From behind, Arjun, Prakash, Rajan, and Naresh followed, their eyes fixed on her swaying walk. Each of them exchanged quick glances, silently acknowledging how their attention was locked onto her breasts moving gently inside her blouse.
Arjun whispered, “She looks like she owns this place.”
Prakash smirked, “I’m just wondering how that saree is holding all this together. Look at her buttocks move…”
Naresh added softly, “And those lips… if she turns around, I’m gone.”
My Mom paused in the middle of the turf, glancing up at the empty commentary boxes. She smiled faintly, feeling the weight of their stares without turning. Her saree’s pleats fluttered gently, teasing glimpses of her hips and the outline of her buttocks.
Rajan muttered under his breath, “Man, I’d watch a match here every day if she was on the pitch.”
Deepak's Dad clapped his hands once to get everyone’s attention.
"Alright, everyone, listen up," he began, his voice carrying across the private stadium. "Arjun, Prakash, Rajan, Naresh… I know you are all from poor families and struggling to pay your college fees. Today, here’s your chance. You will form one team, and Rajan… you will be the captain."
The four young men nodded, glancing at each other with a mix of determination and excitement, though their eyes still kept drifting back to Sudha’s breasts and waist.
Deepak's Dad turned toward the others.
"Sudha, Deepak, Karthik, and Varun — you will form the other team. And Sudha…" he smiled, "you will be the captain."
My mom blinked, caught off guard. "Me… captain?" she asked, her voice carrying a hint of nervousness.
"Yes," Deepak's Dad said firmly. "And I will be the umpire. My decision will be final. The winning team takes home thirty lakh rupees."
The weight of the figure made My Mom’s stomach tighten. She knew exactly what thirty lakhs could mean for her dream house. She also felt the pressure — four men staring at her, waiting to see how she would lead.
Deepak's Dad pulled out a coin. "Let’s have the toss."
My mom called out quickly, "Heads!"
The coin spun high in the air, glinting under the sunlight, before landing neatly in Deepak's Dad’s palm. Everyone held their breath.
“Tails it is,” Deepak's Dad announced. The coin gleamed one last time in his hand — Rajan had won the toss.
He smirked confidently. “We’ll bat first,” he declared, stepping up to the crease with his team behind him.

[novelistcasanova]

Over 1, Ball 1
Prakash took his run-up, eyes flicking briefly toward My Mom. She stood at the crease, bat ready, yellow saree clinging to her Buttocks, yellow blouse stretched over her Breasts, black Bra visible beneath, and the teasing line of her black Panties showing above her petticoat.
The ball flew toward her, fast and precise, but she swung too early, missing entirely. The ball rolled past, wasted.
“Ahh, missed it, Aunty!” Prakash called out, though his eyes were fixed on her Breasts and Buttocks, not the ball.
My Mom blinked, cheeks flushing pink. She adjusted her grip on the bat, Breasts lifting with the movement, Pantyline shifting slightly under the petticoat, and I felt my pulse thud in my ears.
“Don’t worry, Mom… next one’s yours,” I whispered under my breath, heart hammering. My eyes couldn’t leave her Breasts rising and falling, or the sway of her Buttocks as she repositioned herself.
Deepak and Karthik were struggling to act casual, but I caught them stealing glances at her Breasts and the glimpse of Panties. Even Rajan, Arjun, and Naresh seemed more focused on Aunty than the game.
Deepak's Dad, standing in his white T-shirt and White Track Pants, called out softly, “Take it easy, Sudha. You’ll get it next time.” His voice had a teasing lilt, and My Mom smiled at him, brushing a hand over her Breasts, and I had to swallow hard to stay upright.
The first ball was gone, but the air around My Mom felt hotter than ever. Every movement, every sway of her Buttocks, every lift of her Breasts, and every teasing glimpse of Bra or Panties made it impossible to think about cricket.


Over 1, Ball 2
Prakash adjusted his stance, eyes briefly flicking toward My Mom again. She gripped the bat tighter, yellow saree hugging her Buttocks, yellow blouse stretching over her Breasts, black Bra showing beneath, and the top of her black Panties peeking over her petticoat.
The ball came fast, but once again, My Mom swung and missed. The ball rolled past harmlessly.
“Aunty, focus!” Rajan called, though his eyes lingered on her Breasts and Buttocks.
My Mom bit her lip, her cheeks flushing darker. She stepped back, adjusting her stance, Breasts rising and falling as she exhaled sharply. I could see the frustration in her eyes—she hated missing, hated disappointing us, even if she was teasing us too.
Deepak's Dad, standing in his white T-shirt and White Track Pants as umpire, leaned slightly forward, voice soft but firm: “Don’t worry, Sudha… it’s just the first two balls. You’ll get the next one.”
My Mom looked up at him, a faint smile breaking through her frustration. She brushed a hand lightly over her Breasts, and I felt heat surge through me. His support seemed to calm her, even as her Pantyline shifted teasingly under the petticoat.
Deepak shifted slightly at the non-striker’s end, but even he couldn’t keep his eyes off My Mom, her Breasts and Buttocks glowing in the sun. I swallowed hard, my mind racing with the sight of her anger mixed with that small, teasing smile Deepak's Dad had drawn out.
The first two balls were gone, and My Mom’s frustration only made her more intoxicating. Every sway of her Buttocks, every lift of her Breasts, and every glimpse of Bra or Panties made it impossible to focus on cricket.


Over 1, Ball 3
Prakash took his mark again, eyes glancing toward My Mom, who gripped the bat tighter, yellow saree clinging to her Buttocks, yellow blouse stretched over her Breasts, black Bra peeking beneath, and the black Panties at her waistline teasingly visible under her petticoat.
The ball sped toward her, but once again, My Mom swung and missed. The ball rolled harmlessly past her, wasted.
“Haha, Aunty! Still can’t hit it!” Arjun and Naresh laughed loudly from the opposing side, eyes shamelessly fixed on her Breasts and Buttocks. Even Rajan smirked, shaking his head, unable to hide his amusement.
My Mom’s hands trembled slightly on the bat, Breasts rising sharply with each frustrated breath, and her Pantyline shifted as she took a small step back. Her frustration was clear—cheeks flushed deeper, lips pressed in a thin line, jaw tightening.
Deepak's Dad, standing as umpire in his white T-shirt and White Track Pants, leaned forward, voice calm and teasing: “It’s okay, Sudha… relax. Don’t let them get to you.”
I could see the tiny flicker of relief in My Mom’s eyes, but it didn’t hide her irritation. Every sway of her Buttocks, every lift of her Breasts, and every subtle glimpse of her Bra and Panties made my pulse pound harder.
Deepak shifted nervously at the non-striker’s end, stealing glances at My Mom, clearly captivated by the mix of her frustration and raw sensuality. I clenched my fists, trying to stay composed, but My Mom’s every movement—the angry lift of her Breasts, the tense sway of her Buttocks—was driving me wild.
Rajan’s team laughed louder, mocking her misses, but My Mom’s glare could have cut steel. She was upset, yes, but that heat, that tension, made the match feel dangerously charged, far beyond mere cricket.


Over 1, Ball 4
Prakash ran in, eyes on My Mom. She gripped the bat tightly, yellow saree clinging to her Buttocks, yellow blouse stretched over her Breasts, black Bra showing beneath, and the black Panties peeking above her petticoat.
The ball came fast, but once again, My Mom swung and missed. It rolled past, wasted. Her frustration was clear—cheeks flushed, lips pressed tight, Breasts rising sharply with every irritated breath, Pantyline shifting under the petticoat as she stepped back.
Rajan’s team laughed openly. “Aunty, still can’t hit it!” Arjun jeered, eyes fixed shamelessly on her Breasts and Buttocks.
Deepak, standing at the non-striker’s end, moved closer, leaning casually toward her. “Aunty… just take the single,” he whispered, voice low and teasing. His hand brushed briefly against her Buttocks in a friendly, joking pat.
She froze, surprise flashing in her eyes, then bit her lip and let out a small, exasperated laugh. “Fine… just the single,” she murmured, shaking her head but not pulling away, Buttocks shifting slightly under his touch, Breasts rising as she exhaled in a mix of frustration and reluctant amusement.
I could hardly breathe, watching the subtle sway of her Buttocks, the lift of her Breasts, and the teasing glimpse of Bra and Panties as she adjusted herself. Every tiny movement of My Mom made my heart race, and I had to resist the urge to step closer myself.
Deepak's Dad, standing at the umpire’s position in his white T-shirt and White Track Pants, smiled knowingly. “That’s the spirit, Sudha. Keep it playful.”
The fourth ball ended, but the air around My Mom was thick with heat. Her frustrated, teasing, almost mischievous energy made the match feel far more charged than any cricket game should.


Over 1, Ball 5
Prakash ran in for the fifth delivery. My Mom gripped the bat tightly, yellow saree clinging to her Buttocks, yellow blouse stretched over her Breasts, black Bra outlined beneath, and the black Panties teasing above her petticoat.
She swung—and missed. Again. Five balls wasted in a row. Her face burned with frustration, cheeks deep pink, Breasts rising sharply with each ragged breath, and her Pantyline shifting as she readjusted herself.
Rajan’s team laughed openly. “Aunty, what’s happening? Five misses already!” Naresh jeered, eyes shamelessly fixed on her Breasts and Buttocks.
My Mom’s hands trembled slightly on the bat, and even Deepak looked concerned. But before anyone else could say a word, Deepak's Dad stepped forward, his T-shirt clinging to his chest, Track Pants fluttering slightly as he approached. His voice was firm, cutting through the tension:
“Sudha! You’re playing for thirty lakhs! Concentrate, focus, and play seriously!”
My Mom froze, eyes widening. Fear mixed with her frustration, a shiver running through her body. Breasts lifted sharply with the sudden intake of breath, Buttocks tensed under the saree, and her Pantyline shifted as she gripped the bat tighter.
For a moment, the teasing, playful aura disappeared, replaced with a serious, almost overwhelming pressure. The laughter of Rajan’s team faded into the background, and all I could see was My Mom’s wide, anxious eyes, the flush of her cheeks, and the tension in her Breasts and Buttocks.
I wanted to step forward, to whisper reassurance, but I stayed rooted, watching her reaction, my pulse pounding as My Mom faced the weight of Deepak's Dad’s words.


Over 1, Ball 6
Prakash ran in for the final ball. My Mom gripped the bat tightly, yellow saree clinging to her Buttocks, yellow blouse stretched over her Breasts, black Bra visible beneath, and the black Panties teasing above her petticoat. She tried to steady herself, but the pressure from the previous balls weighed heavily.
The ball came fast, and My Mom swung too late. The ball struck the stumps cleanly. Bowled.
Rajan’s team laughed, but their amusement was drowned out by Deepak's Dad storming forward, his face hard. “Sudha! What the hell was that? You’re useless! You’re not even fit to bat!” His voice boomed across the field. “If you lose this match, don’t even think about getting your thirty lakhs! Do you understand me?”
My Mom froze, wide-eyed, her Breasts rising sharply as her chest heaved, Buttocks tensing under the saree, and her black Panties shifting slightly as she gripped the bat tighter. Her lower lip trembled, and a sob escaped before she could stop it. Tears ran down her flushed cheeks, Breasts heaving with each shuddering breath.
Deepak and Karthik exchanged worried glances, while I felt a raw, helpless heat coursing through me. Watching My Mom cry, her Buttocks tensing and Breasts heaving under the yellow blouse, made my heart pound and my pulse race.
Even Rajan’s team quieted a little, sensing the intensity of Deepak's Dad’s anger, but My Mom stood there, trembling, scared, frustrated, and unbearably alluring. Every movement of her Breasts, every slight shift of her Buttocks, and every glimpse of Bra and Panties made it impossible to look away.


My Mom dropped the bat and ran toward me, yellow saree swaying with her Buttocks tightening under the fabric, Breasts heaving with every step. Tears streamed down her flushed cheeks, Pantyline shifting slightly as she moved.
She wrapped her arms tightly around me, pressing her Breasts against my chest. “Varun… I… I’m going to lose… I’ll never get the thirty lakhs!” she sobbed, her voice trembling.
I pulled her close, my hands resting gently on her Buttocks, feeling the warmth through the saree. “Shh, Mom… don’t worry. We’ll win the match. Just focus, breathe. It’s not over yet,” I whispered, holding her tighter.
She pressed her face into my shoulder, and I couldn’t resist—leaning forward, I pressed a soft, lingering kiss to her cheek. The warmth of her skin, the soft rise of her Breasts against me, made my pulse spike. I felt the subtle reaction of my body against hers, every inch of My Mom intoxicating me.
“Thank you, Varun…” she murmured, hugging me tighter, Buttocks pressing against me, Breasts rising and falling rapidly. Her gratitude and vulnerability mixed with her sensual presence, making the moment impossible to forget.
I held her, running my hands lightly over her Buttocks, feeling the tension in her body slowly ease. “We’ve got this, Mom. Trust me,” I whispered again, planting another soft kiss on her cheek as she clung to me, trembling but slowly calming.
Even in her tears, her Breasts, Buttocks, and subtle Pantyline under the saree made my blood race. She hugged me back tightly, whispering thanks, and I felt the heat of her body pressed against mine, every second heightening the mix of care, desire, and longing between us.

[novelistcasanova]

Over 2, Ball 1

I placed a firm hand on Mom’s shoulder, guiding her gently but firmly. Her Breasts pressed slightly against my chest, Buttocks swaying under the yellow saree, and the black Bra peeking teasingly beneath. “Look, Mom,” I whispered, voice low and steady, “Karthik and Deepak… great players. They’re going to hit sixes and boundaries from now on. Watch and learn, focus with them.”
Karthik moved to join Deepak at the crease, the new over starting. Deepak took the strike, glancing at My Mom. She nodded, still trembling slightly, cheeks flushed, Breasts rising and falling as she breathed.
I lifted my right hand, cupping My Mom’s jaw carefully, wiping away her tears. “It’s okay… you’ll do this,” I whispered, leaning close. Then, I pressed a strong, lingering kiss onto her right cheek, feeling the warmth of her skin and the soft rise of her Breasts against me.
When I pulled back, I discreetly wiped the trace of my saliva from her cheek with my thumb. Her lips trembled as she exhaled, and My Mom looked up at me, eyes glistening, Buttocks shifting slightly under the saree, Pantyline teasing under the petticoat.
The closeness, her warmth, and the soft press of her Breasts against my chest sent a wave of heat through me. I felt turned on, my pulse racing as I held her face gently but firmly, grounding her while stealing every subtle sensation from her presence.
“Mom… don’t worry,” I whispered again, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear as she clung to me tightly. Her body pressed closer, Buttocks against me, Breasts rising and falling with each breath, making it impossible to ignore the erotic tension pulsing between us even as the match began anew.


Over 2
Deepak took strike while Karthik stood at the non-striker’s end, running carefully and only scoring singles. The over dragged on, and by the end, the scoreboard showed a mere three runs.
My Mom stood right next to me, yellow saree clinging to her Buttocks, yellow blouse stretched over her Breasts, black Bra peeking beneath, and the black Panties teasing above her petticoat. She wasn’t holding a bat—just watching, tense, frustrated, and restless.
Her Breasts rose and fell sharply with each exhale, Buttocks tensing as she shifted from one foot to the other, Pantyline teasing under her petticoat. She turned to me, eyes wide, flushed cheeks, and trembling lips.
“Varun… what do we do? They’re just taking singles… the score is so low!” she whispered, frustration spilling into her voice.
I placed a steady hand on her shoulder, feeling the warmth of her Breasts and Buttocks pressing slightly against me. “Mom… don’t worry. Watch them, stay close, and focus. We’ll figure out the right moment to make a big hit,” I whispered, brushing a finger gently along her jaw, Panties shifting beneath the petticoat with the motion.
She let out a small, frustrated sigh, Breasts heaving, Buttocks tensing as she leaned slightly into me. The restlessness radiating off her, a mix of frustration and raw sensuality, made my pulse race.
“Trust me, Mom… we’ll turn this around. Just stay with me,” I murmured, pressing a brief, firm kiss on her cheek, feeling the heat of her Breasts and Buttocks pressed against me.
She clung to me for a moment longer, letting the tension of the match—and the subtle erotic charge between us—sink in. Breasts rising, Buttocks shifting, Pantyline teasing under her petticoat, she watched intently, restless but focused on what was happening on the field.

[novelistcasanova]

Over 3

Deepak took strike, Karthik at the non-striker’s end, both running carefully and only managing singles. The over crawled, tension thick in the air, and by the end, they had scored just two more runs. The total was now a pitiful five runs.
My Mom stood right next to me, yellow saree clinging to her Buttocks, yellow blouse stretched over her Breasts, black Bra showing beneath, and the black Panties teasing above her petticoat. She wasn’t holding a bat—just watching helplessly.
Her frustration bubbled over. Breasts rising sharply with every exhale, Buttocks tensing under the saree, Pantyline shifting slightly as she pressed her hands together in agitation. Her lips trembled, and her eyes glistened with unshed tears.
“Varun… I… I can’t win the thirty lakhs… it’s impossible!” she whispered, voice breaking, tears starting to slip down her flushed cheeks. The fear and frustration in her tone made my pulse pound.
I gently cupped her face, brushing away a tear with my thumb. “Mom… don’t cry. We’re not done yet. Just breathe, stay with me… we’ll find a way,” I whispered, feeling the warmth of her Breasts against my chest, Buttocks pressing slightly into me.
She shivered, letting out a small sob, Breasts rising and falling rapidly, Buttocks shifting under the saree, Panties peeking teasingly above the petticoat as she leaned into me for support.
“Trust me, Mom… thirty lakhs is still possible. Just stay close, watch carefully, and be ready,” I murmured, pressing a soft kiss on her cheek, feeling the heat and tension radiating off her.
Even in her near tears, My Mom’s presence—the sway of her Buttocks, the rise of her Breasts, the teasing Pantyline under her petticoat—made my body react, a mix of concern, desire, and helpless arousal as I held her close.

After Over 3
Deepak's Dad stormed toward My Mom, white T-shirt clinging to his chest, White Track Pants fluttering slightly as he moved. His face was hard, eyes blazing.
“Sudha! What is this?! You’re the worst captain I’ve ever seen!” he barked, voice carrying across the field. “You can’t motivate your team to hit sixes or boundaries! You’re letting everyone down! If you can’t lead them to win, don’t even dream of taking home the three lakhs!”
The words hit My Mom like a lightning strike. Her Breasts heaved sharply with the shock, Buttocks tensing under the yellow saree, and her Pantyline shifted as she pressed her hands to her face. Her lips trembled, and tears spilled freely down her flushed cheeks.
“I… I… I’m trying…” she whispered brokenly, her voice cracking. Her whole body shook, Breasts rising and falling with each sob, Buttocks trembling as she sank slightly toward me for support.
I stepped closer, placing a steady hand on her shoulder, feeling her Breasts pressing against me, Buttocks brushing into mine. “Mom… shh… it’s okay,” I whispered, brushing a strand of hair from her tear-streaked face. “Don’t let him scare you. We’ll find a way to turn this around. Just breathe… stay with me.”
Even in her tears, My Mom radiated tension and sensuality—Breasts heaving, Buttocks tensing, Pantyline teasing under the petticoat. The frustration, fear, and helplessness all mixed together, making it impossible for me to look away.
She clung to me, sobbing quietly, as I held her close, pressing soft kisses on her temple and cheek, trying to calm her while feeling the undeniable erotic charge of her warmth and vulnerability pressed against me.
I turned to My Mom, brushing a strand of hair from her tear-streaked cheek, Breasts pressing lightly against my chest, Buttocks swaying under the yellow saree, Pantyline teasing beneath the petticoat.
“Mom… I know how to get them moving,” I whispered, voice low and teasing. “Tell Deepak and Karthik… if they score sixes and boundaries, they’ll get kisses from you.”
She blinked, flushed deeply, Breasts rising sharply, Buttocks tensing under the saree, Panties shifting as she tried to process my words.
Deepak's Dad, still fuming, paused and then slowly smiled, eyes lighting up. “Hmm… that’s actually… a great idea,” he said, nodding approvingly.
Deepak's Dad called Deepak and Karthik over, voice loud and clear: “Deepak! Karthik! Listen carefully! If you hit sixes and boundaries in this over, Aunty will personally give you kisses!”
The two of them froze for a moment, wide-eyed, then exchanged a glance. Motivation lit up their faces immediately. Smirks formed, and they ran toward the crease, bat in hand, ready to face Over 4 with renewed energy.
My Mom pressed her hands to her Breasts, cheeks flaming, Buttocks tightening under her saree, Pantyline teasing beneath her petticoat, as she whispered softly to me: “Varun… they’re going to get kisses from me?”
I smiled, holding her closer, Breasts pressing into me, Buttocks brushing lightly against my thigh. “Yes, Mom… that’s how we get this game moving. Just watch and enjoy,” I murmured, feeling a wave of heat at the thought of her flushed, teasing reaction.
Deepak and Karthik ran to their positions, completely fired up, ready to smash sixes and boundaries as the field prepared for Over 4, Ball 1.

[novelistcasanova]

Over 4, Ball 1

Deepak took strike, eyes locked on the ball. My Mom stood next to me, yellow saree clinging to her Buttocks, yellow blouse stretched over her Breasts, black Bra visible beneath, and the black Panties teasing above her petticoat. Her Breasts rose and fell rapidly with anticipation, Buttocks tensing under the saree, Pantyline shifting slightly as she leaned forward, completely absorbed in the game.
The bowler ran in, and Deepak swung with perfect timing. The ball soared high, sailing clean over the boundary. Six!
My Mom’s eyes widened, a delighted squeal escaping her lips. “Yes! That’s it!” she cried, Breasts bouncing with excitement, Buttocks shifting under the saree, Panties peeking teasingly. The scoreboard had now doubled, and the energy on the field surged.
Deepak sprinted toward her, grin wide. “I get my kiss, Aunty?” he called.
My Mom laughed, flushed and breathless, Breasts rising sharply, Buttocks tensing as she stepped forward, Pantyline teasing under the petticoat. Deepak hugged her tightly, his hands pressing firmly against her Buttocks, pulling her close for a long, deliberate kiss on her lips.
She gasped softly, wrapping her arms around him, Breasts pressing fully against his chest as he pulled back slightly. Her lips trembled from the kiss, cheeks flushed, and she whispered softly: “Good… job!”
Deepak grinned, nodding, and ran back to his crease, excitement radiating from him. My Mom’s Breasts heaved, Buttocks shifting under the saree, and Panties peeking teasingly beneath the petticoat, as she turned back to me, glowing and flushed from the playful, sensual moment.
I felt my boner, watching My Mom—the sway of her Buttocks, the lift of her Breasts, and the teasing Pantyline—every detail making it impossible to look away.


Over 4, Ball 2
Deepak squared up for the next ball, eyes focused. My Mom stood close by, yellow saree hugging her Buttocks, yellow blouse stretched over her Breasts, black Bra visible beneath, and the black Panties teasing under her petticoat. Her Breasts rose and fell rapidly, Buttocks tensing slightly as she leaned forward, watching intently.
The ball came fast. Deepak swung hard but missed the perfect timing—he only managed a weak connection. The ball trickled to the fielders, and he ran a single, disappointment written across his face.
“Good effort, Deepak! Keep your focus!” My Mom called out, clapping lightly, Breasts bouncing, Buttocks swaying under the saree, Pantyline shifting teasingly as she encouraged him.
He looked back at her, his confidence rekindled by her presence. “Yes, Aunty! I won’t miss next one!” he said, energized, running to his crease.
My Mom smiled, flushed cheeks, Breasts heaving, Buttocks tensing under the saree, and whispered softly to me: “We can do this… I just need them to keep going!” Her Panties peeked teasingly above the petticoat as she leaned slightly toward me, the mix of determination and sensuality radiating from her.

[novelistcasanova]

Over 4, Ball 3

Karthik squared up for the ball, eyes focused, bat ready. My Mom stood near me, yellow saree clinging to her Buttocks, yellow blouse stretched over her Breasts, black Bra peeking beneath, and black Panties teasing above her petticoat. Her Breasts rose and fell rapidly, Buttocks tensing as she leaned forward, completely absorbed in the game.
The bowler ran in, and Karthik swung perfectly. The ball soared high and clean over the boundary. Six!
My Mom gasped, cheeks flushed, Breasts bouncing with excitement, Buttocks swaying under the saree, Panties teasing under the petticoat. The scoreboard jumped, and the energy on the field shifted immediately.
Karthik sprinted straight toward her, grin wide. But this time, instead of a kiss on the lips, he dropped to one knee and pressed a long, slow kiss on My Mom’s deep navel.
A soft moan escaped her lips. Breasts heaving, Buttocks tensing under the saree, Panties shifting slightly as she placed her hands gently on his face. “Great shot, Karthik!” she whispered, breathy and excited, “Keep hitting sixes like this!”
She pressed a quick kiss on his forehead, gently running her pallu over her navel to wipe away the trace of his saliva, and whispered: “Go, now—keep up the momentum!”
Karthik grinned, his confidence renewed, and ran back to his crease, heart racing. My Mom turned back to me, flushed and glowing, Breasts heaving, Buttocks swaying under the saree, Panties peeking teasingly, a mix of excitement, mischief, and motivation radiating from her.
Over 4, Ball 4
Karthik faced the ball, swinging aggressively. He didn’t connect perfectly this time, and the ball trickled away for just a single. He jogged back to the non-striker’s end as Deepak took strike.
My Mom clapped lightly, Breasts bouncing, Buttocks swaying under the yellow saree, Panties teasing beneath her petticoat. “Great shot, Karthik! Keep it up!” she called out, her flushed cheeks and rising Breasts showing her excitement.
Karthik grinned mischievously, blowing playful kisses toward her deep navel as he reached his crease. My Mom’s lips parted, a soft blush spreading across her cheeks, Breasts heaving, Buttocks tensing slightly under the saree, Pantyline teasing beneath her petticoat. She pressed a hand lightly to her navel, feeling the warmth of the gesture.
Deepak squared up for the next ball, his eyes locked on the bowler, while My Mom stood close, Breasts rising and falling with every breath, Buttocks swaying slightly, flushed and eager, clearly excited by the playful interaction with Karthik.
Over 4, Ball 5
Deepak took strike again, eyes fixed on the bowler. He swung hard, hoping for a big hit—but missed entirely. The ball trickled past him, leaving him frustrated.
Over 4, Ball 6
Deepak squared up once more, but again, he missed the ball. The over ended with no additional runs from him, leaving the tension high.
Deepak's Dad stormed toward My Mom, white T-shirt clinging to his chest, White Track Pants fluttering slightly. His voice was sharp and scolding.
“Sudha! You’re letting them waste too many balls! They’re trying too hard for sixes and boundaries instead of focusing properly. You need to make them concentrate, or we’ll lose the advantage!”
My Mom’s Breasts heaved, Buttocks tensing under her saree, Pantyline teasing beneath her petticoat as she looked at me, helpless and frustrated.
I stepped forward, placing a steady hand on her shoulder, feeling the warmth of her Breasts against me, Buttocks brushing slightly into mine. “Mom… I’ve got an idea,” I whispered. I called Deepak and Karthik over, voice low but firm:
“Listen, if you waste another ball, My Mom won’t kiss you. No sixes, no kisses. Focus on the ball and play properly!”
Both boys froze for a moment, eyes wide, then nodded quickly, clearly motivated by the playful but firm threat.
My Mom flushed, Breasts rising sharply, Buttocks tensing under her saree, Panties peeking teasingly above her petticoat, biting her lip slightly. She whispered softly to me: “Varun… you’re always full of ideas…”
I smiled, holding her closer, Breasts pressing into my chest, Buttocks brushing against me. The mix of tension, frustration, and teasing sensuality radiating off her made my pulse spike as we prepared for the next over.

[novelistcasanova]

Over 5, Ball 1

Karthik squared up for the first ball of the over, swinging aggressively—but missed. The ball zipped past him. My Mom stood nearby, yellow saree hugging her Buttocks, yellow blouse stretched over her Breasts, black Bra visible beneath, black Panties teasing under her petticoat. Her Breasts heaved sharply, Buttocks tensing under the saree, Pantyline shifting as she clutched her hands together, frustration mounting.
“It’s okay… focus next time,” she muttered under her breath, biting her lip, flushed cheeks showing her worry.


Over 5, Ball 2
Karthik steadied himself and swung. This time, he connected just enough to take a single, giving the strike to Deepak. My Mom clapped lightly, Breasts rising and falling, Buttocks shifting, Panties peeking teasingly above her petticoat, whispering: “Good… now Deepak, focus!”


Over 5, Ball 3
Deepak squared up confidently—but the bowler delivered a perfect line. The ball clipped the stumps. Bowled!
My Mom’s face fell completely. Breasts heaving, Buttocks tightening under her saree, Pantyline teasing under her petticoat, she pressed her hands to her face. “No… no… I… I’ll never get the thirty lakhs…” she whispered, voice trembling, eyes welling with tears.
I stepped close, cupping her face, Breasts pressing into me, Buttocks brushing slightly against my thigh. “Mom… shh… don’t worry. It’s not over yet,” I whispered, voice calm but firm. “I’ll go to bat now. Watch and stay with me—we’ll turn this around.”
Her lips trembled as she nodded, flushed cheeks, Breasts rising sharply, Buttocks tensing, Panties peeking teasingly, clinging briefly to me for support before stepping slightly back to watch me take the crease.
Over 5, Ball 4
I squared up for the ball, bat steady in hand. The bowler ran in, and I swung with full power. The ball soared clean over the boundary. Six!
My Mom jumped in joy, yellow saree clinging to her Buttocks, yellow blouse stretched over her Breasts, black Bra visible beneath, and black Panties teasing above her petticoat. “Yes! That’s it, Varun!” she cried, cheeks flushed, Breasts bouncing, Buttocks swaying under the saree, Pantyline shifting teasingly as she clapped.
I jogged toward her, grin wide, and without hesitation leaned in. This was the first time our lips would meet. She froze for a moment, Breasts heaving, Buttocks tensing under the saree, Panties peeking teasingly above her petticoat, before she blushed and let me close the distance.
I pressed my lips firmly against hers, cupping her face with both hands. Our lips met passionately, and I tasted her softly, exploring her tongue with mine. My Mom moaned softly into the kiss, wrapping her hands around my shoulders, Breasts pressing fully against me, Buttocks shifting slightly, caught between excitement and desire.
The world seemed to disappear for a moment—just her lips, the warmth of her Breasts, the sway of her Buttocks, and the teasing Pantyline beneath the petticoat, as I held her close and kissed her fully, savoring the moment we had waited for.
When we finally broke apart, she was flushed, breathless, eyes sparkling. “Varun… that was… amazing,” she whispered, Breasts heaving, Buttocks tensing under the saree, Panties teasing above the petticoat, hugging me tight.
I smiled, heart racing, and whispered back: “This is just the start, Mom… now let’s win this game together.”


Over 5, Ball 5
I took my stance, bat in hand, but my mind was still reeling from our first kiss. The taste of My Mom’s lips and tongue lingered on mine, sending a warm shiver down my spine. My pants tightened noticeably as my boner pressed insistently, my eyes involuntarily seeking her gaze.
My Mom stood near me, yellow saree clinging to her Buttocks, yellow blouse stretched over her Breasts, black Bra visible beneath, and black Panties teasing above her petticoat. She was cheering quietly, Breasts heaving, Buttocks tensing under the saree, Pantyline shifting slightly, her lips curving in a playful smile.
I whispered to myself, glancing at her: “Get ready… another kiss is coming, Mom…” My eyes locked on her, taking in the sway of her Buttocks, the rise of her Breasts, the teasing Pantyline beneath her petticoat, and it only made the urge stronger.
The bowler ran in, and I gripped the bat tighter, stealing a quick glance at My Mom, imagining her flushed face, Breasts heaving, and Buttocks pressing subtly under the saree. My heart raced as I prepared for the next shot, excitement and desire building in equal measure.
I swung with all my strength. The ball soared high and clean over the ropes. Six!
My Mom jumped in joy, yellow saree clinging tightly to her Buttocks, yellow blouse stretched over her Breasts, black Bra visible beneath, and black Panties teasing above her petticoat. “Yes! That’s it, Varun!” she cried, cheeks flushed, Breasts bouncing, Buttocks swaying under the saree, Pantyline shifting teasingly as she clapped.
I sprinted toward her, heart hammering. Reaching her, I grabbed her underarms, pulling her against me. My lips kissed her lips hard and deep, tasting her fully—tongue exploring hers, sliding and teasing. My Mom moaned, hands clutching my shoulders, Breasts pressing firmly against my chest, Buttocks tensing and pressing into me under the saree, Panties shifting teasingly as I pressed closer.
I broke the kiss slightly, just to deepen it again, letting my tongue sweep across her tongue, tasting every part of her mouth. Her moans grew louder, Breasts heaving, Buttocks trembling, and she wrapped her arms around my neck, pulling me even closer, lost in the moment.
Suddenly, Deepak’s Dad came running over, waving his arms frantically. “Sudha! Enough! Focus on the game!” he shouted, yanking us apart.
My Mom and I stepped back slightly, breathing heavily, eyes locked. The tension between us crackled in the air, Breasts rising and falling rapidly, Buttocks still subtly pressing under her saree, Pantyline teasing beneath her petticoat, the memory of the passionate kiss lingering, igniting an unspoken desire as we prepared for the next ball.


Over 5, Ball 6
I took my stance again, bat firm in my hands, but my mind wasn’t on the ball. I stole a glance at My Mom, yellow saree clinging to her Buttocks, yellow blouse stretched over her Breasts, black Bra visible beneath, black Panties teasing above her petticoat.
I whispered to myself, heart pounding, “I’ve been living my whole life with this hot, beautiful Tamil Hottie, and I wasted so many chances… I should have kissed her lips long ago. Why didn’t I enjoy it sooner?”
The memory of our first passionate kiss—Breasts pressing into me, Buttocks tensing under the saree, Pantyline teasing beneath her petticoat, her tongue exploring mine—made my pants tighten even more. I cursed myself quietly for all the wasted opportunities, my pulse racing with desire and regret.
My Mom watched me intently, cheeks flushed, Breasts heaving, Buttocks subtly shifting under the saree, Panties peeking teasingly, clearly sensing my desire. Her lips curved in a soft, knowing smile, whispering under her breath: “Varun… focus… but don’t forget who you belong to.”
I gripped the bat tighter, stealing one more longing glance at her, imagining the next kiss, tasting her lips again in my mind as the bowler ran in. Every nerve in my body screamed with anticipation, both for the game and for the teasing, erotic tension between us.
I took my stance, bat in hand, but my eyes couldn’t stay on the ball. They drifted down to My Mom’s deep navel, framed perfectly by the yellow saree and yellow blouse, black Bra visible above, black Panties teasing beneath the petticoat. I whispered to myself, “Damn… she’s so hot… so impossible to resist…”
My Mom cheered softly for me, Breasts bouncing, Buttocks swaying under the saree, Pantyline shifting teasingly. The flush on her cheeks, the way her deep navel gleamed just above the petticoat, made my pulse spike. Every glance, every subtle movement felt like an invitation, her body practically daring me, inviting me to make love to her.
I gripped the bat tighter, imagining her soft moans, the press of her Breasts against me, Buttocks tensing under the saree, Panties peeking teasingly. My pants tightened, my boner aching, and I whispered under my breath: “God… I want her… right here…”
Her eyes met mine, playful and mischievous, Breasts heaving, Buttocks shifting, Pantyline teasing, and I knew she felt the same heat coursing between us. The bowler ran in, but I barely noticed—my whole focus was My Mom, the game now just a backdrop to the burning desire radiating off her.
I squared up at the crease, eyes stealing one last glance at My Mom. Yellow saree clung to her Buttocks, yellow blouse stretched over her Breasts, black Bra visible, black Panties teasing above her petticoat, and her deep navel gleaming just above the waistband. My pulse raced as I whispered under my breath, “You’re mine today, My Mom…”
Her eyes met mine, cheeks flushed, Breasts heaving, Buttocks tensing under the saree, Pantyline teasing as she smiled softly. The heat between us was undeniable, and every glance felt like a silent invitation, a challenge wrapped in desire.
I glanced at the bowler, gripping the bat tighter, boner pressing insistently against my pants, every nerve on fire. “Focus… but you’re mine,” I muttered again, ready to face the delivery, eyes locked on the ball, yet still drinking in every detail of My Mom’s body.
The bowler ran in, and I prepared to swing, the tension between the game and the simmering erotic heat between us making my heartbeat thunder.

[novelistcasanova]

Over 5, Ball 6
I swung with full force, connecting perfectly. The ball soared high over the ropes. Six!
My Mom jumped in joy, yellow saree clinging tightly to her Buttocks, yellow blouse stretched over her Breasts, black Bra visible beneath, and black Panties teasing above her petticoat. “Hatrick Six! Yes, Varun!” she shouted, cheeks flushed, Breasts bouncing, Buttocks swaying under the saree, Pantyline shifting teasingly.
I ran toward her, heart racing. This time, she smiled knowingly, Breasts heaving, Buttocks tensing under the saree, Panties teasing above the petticoat, clearly ready to let me kiss her lips. But instead, I dropped to one knee in front of her, tilting my head, and pressed my lips firmly to her deep navel.
A soft, breathy moan escaped My Mom’s lips as she arched slightly, Breasts pressing forward, Buttocks tightening under the saree, Pantyline teasing above the petticoat. She wrapped her hands around my shoulders, clutching me tightly as I kissed and licked her deep navel passionately, savoring every inch.
The moment was electric—her moans, the rise of her Breasts, the subtle sway of her Buttocks, and the teasing glimpse of her Panties above the petticoat making my pulse spike. When I finally pulled back slightly, her flushed face, sparkling eyes, and heaving Breasts told me she was fully consumed by the heat of the moment.


After Over 5, Ball 6
My Mom stepped closer, yellow saree clinging to her Buttocks, yellow blouse stretched over her Breasts, black Bra visible beneath, and black Panties teasing above her petticoat. She cupped my face in her hands, Breasts pressing slightly, Buttocks tensing under the saree, Pantyline shifting teasingly.
“Varun… why are you kissing my navel and not my lips?” she asked softly, voice trembling, flushed cheeks showing her embarrassment and excitement.
I leaned closer, eyes dark with desire, heart pounding, and whispered, “My Mom… what about your other lips… your womanhood…?”
Her eyes widened, a deep blush spreading across her cheeks, Breasts rising sharply, Buttocks subtly pressing under the saree, Pantyline teasing above her petticoat. She pressed a finger to her lips, softly shushing me, “Sssshh… Varun…” Her voice trembled, betraying her arousal even as she tried to cover it.
The heat between us was unbearable—every glance, every shift of her Breasts and Buttocks, every teasing glimpse of Panties above the petticoat, making my desire spike even higher. Her shyness only added to the tension, making me ache to explore further, while she clutched my face, Breasts heaving, Buttocks tensing under the saree, caught between shyness and craving.
I dropped to my knees again, eyes locked on My Mom’s deep navel. Yellow saree clung to her Buttocks, yellow blouse stretched tight over her Breasts, black Bra showing, and black Panties peeking teasingly above her petticoat. My lips pressed against her deep navel, tasting, kissing, licking, exploring every inch with increasing passion.
I felt her Breasts heaving against me, Buttocks pressing slightly under the saree, Pantyline teasing above her Panties, and heard her soft moans mixed with breathless giggles. My heart pounded, every nerve on fire, as she wrapped her hands around my shoulders, pulling me closer.
I paused briefly, looking up at her flushed, sparkling face, and whispered, “Can I… kiss your other lips… your Pussy lips?” My pulse raced, boner pressing hard against my pants, every part of me craving her.
She blushed deeply, Breasts rising sharply, Buttocks tensing, Panties teasing above the petticoat, and pressed a finger to her lips.
“After we win the match… okay?” she murmured, shy yet playful, her eyes daring me to wait.
I grinned, feeling the tension and desire coil tighter inside me, and nodded. “Okay… we win first. Then all yours, Mom.”
She giggled, Breasts pressing against me in a brief hug, Buttocks brushing slightly, and I felt a sharp spike of anticipation. The promise of what was to come lingered between us, fueling desire even as I stood back up, ready to face the next ball, every glance at her setting my blood on fire.
Deepak's Dad walked toward My Mom’s team, white T-shirt clinging slightly to his chest, White Track Pants swaying as he moved. He stopped in front of My Mom, eyes sharp.
“Sudha… your team’s final score is 37 runs in 5 overs,” he announced, voice firm. “Rajan’s team will need 38 runs to win in 5 overs. Every run counts. Focus!”
My Mom’s yellow saree hugged her Buttocks, yellow blouse stretched over her Breasts, black Bra visible beneath, and black Panties teasing above her petticoat. She stood close to me, flushed, Breasts heaving, Buttocks tensing, Pantyline shifting teasingly as she listened.
Her eyes met mine, full of fire and determination, and I could feel her excitement and teasing energy radiating toward me. Every glance, every subtle sway of Buttocks and Breasts, every glimpse of Panties above the petticoat, made my boner pulse and my heart race.
I leaned slightly closer and whispered, “My Mom… they need 38 now. We’ve got this… and then your promise is all mine.”
She giggled softly, Breasts pressing subtly against me, Buttocks shifting under the saree, and whispered back, “Yes… let’s finish this match first.”
The tension of the game and the simmering desire between us crackled in the air as we prepared to face the final stretch.
As Rajan’s team gathered to bat, I could see their faces full of focus and determination. They knew they needed 38 runs to win, and the atmosphere on the field was electric. The pressure was on.
Back at the huddle, My Mom’s team—Deepak, Karthik, Varun, and My Mom—stood close together, hands on their knees, tense and whispering strategies. My Mom was at the center, yellow saree clinging to her Buttocks, yellow blouse hugging her Breasts, and black Panties subtly showing above her petticoat, still flushed from the earlier moments.
“We need to defend 38 runs… This isn’t going to be easy,” Deepak said, his eyes scanning the field as he adjusted his stance.
“Right… they’re aggressive, and we can’t afford to make mistakes,” Karthik added, shaking his head.
I looked at My Mom, whose eyes were wide with both anxiety and determination, Breasts rising with each heavy breath, Buttocks shifting under the saree, Pantyline teasing slightly as she shifted her stance.
“Mom, focus… we need you at your best. Let’s make sure they don’t get away with easy runs. Every ball counts,” I said, voice calm but firm, trying to reassure her, my gaze locking with hers.
She nodded, swallowing hard, her Breasts still heaving as she tried to steady her nerves. “I know, Varun… I’ll do my best. I can’t lose the 30 Lakhs. We need to win this.”
Karthik clenched his fist. “We’ll need to bowl tight. No room for mistakes. Let’s take these guys out one by one.”
I nodded in agreement. “We can do this… Let’s not give them any easy chances. We’ll bowl carefully and keep them on the edge.”
The tension between us all was palpable, the mix of fear, desire, and determination. My Mom’s eyes sparkled with focus, Breasts still rising sharply, Buttocks shifting under the saree, a subtle reminder of the unspoken promise between us.
I leaned in and whispered just for her: “After we win, all those promises are mine, Mom.”
She blushed deeply, Breasts heaving, and winked. “Let’s win this, Varun… then we’ll see.”

[Amino]

Amazing bro Casanova is back with superb story this one is so hot that I read it in one go and gave me a fucking good hardon do post rest of the stories

[novelistcasanova]

Over 1, Ball 1

The tension was palpable as Rajan’s team prepared to bat. Rajan stepped up to the crease, his eyes locked on My Mom behind the stumps, ready to wicket-keep. Her yellow saree clung to her Buttocks, yellow blouse stretched over her Breasts, black Bra visible beneath, and black Panties teasing above her petticoat. She stood poised, her gaze intense but her heart racing. She knew she couldn’t afford to lose this match.
The bowler ran in, and Rajan took his stance. With a swift, powerful swing, he sent the ball soaring over the ropes—six!
The ball sailed high into the air, and My Mom’s team froze, staring as the ball flew out of the boundary. Her breath caught in her throat. My Mom stood behind the stumps, stunned, unable to believe how easily Rajan had hit that ball. Her Breasts heaved with each deep breath, her Buttocks shifting beneath the saree, Pantyline teasing above her petticoat, the sight of Rajan’s effortless shot making her feel the pressure mounting.
“Damn… he hit that out of the park,” Deepak muttered, his voice tight with frustration.
I glanced at My Mom, who was still watching the ball fly through the air. Her face flushed, and she tried to steady her breath. “We can’t let them do this. We’ve got to focus,” I said quietly.
My Mom nodded, but the pressure was written all over her face. “I know… but he’s good. We need to get back in the game.”
The first ball, the first six, had already shaken us. The reality of the challenge was sinking in, but we couldn’t let it break our focus.

[novelistcasanova]

Over 1, Ball 2

After that first six, the pressure on My Mom’s team was building. Rajan was on fire, stepping up confidently for the next ball. My Mom, still behind the stumps, her yellow saree hugging her Buttocks, yellow blouse stretched over her Breasts, and black Panties barely visible beneath her petticoat, was visibly nervous. Her Breasts rose and fell sharply with each breath, and her Buttocks shifted slightly under the saree as she shifted her weight from foot to foot. She could feel the weight of the match pressing down on her.
The bowler ran in, and Rajan took his swing. This time, he didn’t send the ball soaring, but it was a perfect strike—four! The ball raced across the turf, and Rajan stood tall, smirking as he watched the ball sail through the boundary.
My Mom’s eyes widened, her Breasts rising sharply as her breath caught in her throat. “No… we can’t let him get away like this…” she muttered, her voice a mix of frustration and worry.
I looked at My Mom, feeling the same tension, but I could see her trying to keep her focus. “We need to bounce back… this is just the beginning.”
The score was climbing, and with every shot, the pressure was mounting. My Mom’s heart was racing. She was feeling the weight of this match more than ever.
As Rajan hit another boundary, his confidence grew. My Mom could feel the pressure building with every run. Her Breasts heaved with each deep breath, her Buttocks shifting slightly under the yellow saree, the weight of the match pressing down on her.
Deepak's Dad, watching the match closely, noticed something—Rajan wasn’t just focused on the game. His eyes kept drifting toward My Mom. She could feel it—the intensity in his gaze, the way his focus seemed divided between the game and her. He was clearly distracted, but she needed to use that to her advantage.
Deepak's Dad walked over to My Mom, his tone sharp yet calm. “Sudha,” he said quietly, so only she could hear. “You see how he’s eyeing you? If you don’t distract him, he’ll finish this match by himself. Tease him, make him lose focus. You need to get him out of his rhythm.”
My Mom stood there, her heart pounding. The idea of teasing Rajan made her nervous, but she knew it was her only option. The match was slipping away, and she had to do whatever it took. Her Breasts rose and fell with each breath as she steadied herself, trying to shake off the nerves.
“If you don’t distract him, we won’t have a chance. You can do this. Make him lose focus, get him off balance,” Deepak's Dad pressed, his voice firm, urging her to take action.
Her pulse quickened, but My Mom nodded, determined. She could feel the eyes of her team on her, but right now, it was about distracting Rajan. He’d been too confident, too focused, and she needed to change that.


Over 1, Ball 3
Rajan stood confidently, his eyes narrowed, watching the bowler as he prepared to deliver the next ball. The match was heating up, and Rajan was determined to take charge. But My Mom—still standing behind the stumps—could feel the weight of the game on her shoulders. She could sense Rajan's growing confidence, and it was clear he wasn’t just focused on the match anymore. His glances kept drifting toward her. She knew it was time to play her part.
My Mom glanced at Rajan, letting her lips curl into a subtle, teasing smile. She knew exactly how to use her presence. The way her yellow saree clung to her Buttocks as she shifted, the gentle rise of her Breasts as she breathed—it wasn’t lost on him.
As the bowler came in to deliver the ball, My Mom casually adjusted her stance, making sure Rajan caught another glimpse of her. She wasn’t doing anything overt, just enough to keep him intrigued.
“You’re doing well, Rajan,” she said, her voice low and teasing, full of playful warmth. “But don’t get too comfortable. I’d hate to see you get distracted.”
She could see Rajan react to her words. His eyes flickered from her to the bowler, but she knew she had his attention. She continued, her voice sweet but with an edge of challenge:
“You know,” she said, her Breasts lightly shifting as she leaned in, “If you keep hitting like that, I might just have to reward you with a kiss. But I’m not sure you deserve it yet…”
Rajan hesitated, his gaze fixed on her, his mind torn between the game and the undeniable attraction she was exuding. He swung his bat at the incoming ball, but it wasn’t the confident strike he’d shown before. My Mom’s flirtation had thrown him off just enough to miss the shot.
The ball flew wide, and Rajan shot a frustrated glance at My Mom, realizing she had distracted him. She smiled again, this time with a hint of victory, her Buttocks shifting subtly beneath the saree as she straightened.
“Better luck next time, Rajan,” she called out playfully, “Maybe focus on the ball more than me. Or don’t. I’ll let you decide.”
As Rajan walked back to his position, clearly frustrated with himself, My Mom stood tall behind the stumps, her eyes shining with a quiet confidence. She had done her part. Rajan had missed the ball, and she had distracted him, throwing off his focus.
The moment didn't go unnoticed. Deepak's Dad, Deepak, Karthik, and Varun all rushed over to her, their eyes wide with appreciation. They had seen how she handled the situation, how effortlessly she played with Rajan's mind, using her presence to turn the tide.
Deepak's Dad grinned and gave her a playful wink. “Sudha, that was brilliant! You’ve got his attention, and you threw him off. Keep doing that, and we’ll have this match in the bag.”
Deepak, always quick to compliment, gave her a thumbs-up. “That was smooth, Aunty. You’ve got him wrapped around your finger. He didn’t even know what hit him!”
Karthik chuckled, shaking his head in amazement. “You’re a natural, Aunty. If this match goes our way, you’ll deserve a trophy for best performance, no doubt!”
Varun, standing a little closer, his eyes dark with admiration, whispered, “You really threw him off,  Mom. That was perfect. We need more of that.” He couldn’t help but smile, his gaze lingering on her. The air between them crackled with the promise of something more, but for now, they were all focused on winning.
My Mom smiled, feeling the rush of support from her team. Her heart raced from the flirtation and the impact it had on Rajan, but she knew she couldn’t let up. There was still more to do.
“Thanks, guys,” she replied, her voice light but full of purpose. “We’ve got this. Let’s make sure we don’t let them get another run. I’ll keep doing my part, but we need to focus on the game.”
The team rallied around her, feeling more energized, their confidence boosted. They all knew that with My Mom’s influence, they could turn this match in their favor.
Over 1, Ball 4
The match was intense, and Rajan was still riding high on his earlier successes. But I could see it—the way his eyes occasionally drifted towards My Mom. He was distracted, and I knew she was about to turn that distraction into an advantage.
My Mom didn’t just stand behind the stumps. She knew how to make an impact. She shifted her position just slightly, ensuring Rajan couldn’t help but notice. Her yellow saree hugged her Buttocks and swayed with each move, and I saw how his gaze lingered. His attention wavered from the game to her, and it was clear he wasn’t fully in the zone.
“You’re looking confident, Rajan,” My Mom called out in a voice that was both teasing and warm. “But do you think you’re ready for this next ball, or are you just focused on something else?”
I watched as Rajan tried to focus on the ball, but his attention flickered back to My Mom. He wasn’t prepared for the challenge she was throwing at him.
With a playful smirk, she leaned forward just slightly, giving him a glimpse of her Breasts shifting beneath her blouse. “You know, you’re doing great out there,” she said, her voice slow, drawing him in. “But how about we make a deal? You keep hitting like this, and maybe I’ll let you take me out for a drink tonight. If you’re free, of course.”
I saw Rajan hesitate, his focus faltering as he processed her words. The ball was coming, and I could tell his mind wasn’t fully on it. His eyes lingered on her a moment too long. It was all the distraction My Mom needed.
As the bowler delivered the ball, Rajan swung but missed. He looked frustrated—completely thrown off by My Mom’s teasing. I couldn’t help but feel a rush of pride. She had done exactly what we needed: distracted him, unsettled him, and now we had a chance to capitalize.
Over 1, Ball 5
The air was thick with anticipation as the bowler prepared for the next ball. Rajan was visibly frustrated after missing the previous one, and his focus was clearly off. His confidence from earlier had been shaken by My Mom’s teasing, and it showed. I could see it in the way he held the bat—his movements were no longer as smooth, as controlled.
My Mom stood behind the stumps, poised and ready, a look of determination in her eyes. She’d done her part—distracting Rajan just enough. Now, it was time for the game to take its course.
The ball was delivered, and Rajan swung at it with everything he had, trying to recover. But the shot wasn’t clean—his bat only made contact with the edge of the ball, sending it flying high into the air.
For a moment, everything seemed to hang in the balance. My Mom’s eyes were locked on the ball as it soared toward her. She took a step forward, her yellow saree fluttering around her Buttocks as she leapt into the air with perfect timing, her hands stretching toward the ball.
With a clean catch, she snatched the ball out of the air, landing gracefully on the ground as the crowd erupted in cheers.
“Gotcha!” she shouted with excitement, her voice full of triumph. She jumped up and down, her Breasts bouncing slightly with each move, her Buttocks shifting under the fabric of her saree as she celebrated.
The team went wild, rushing to her side as My Mom beamed with pride. Rajan stood still for a moment, his bat still in his hand, a look of disbelief on his face.
But there was no denying it—Rajan was out. My Mom had caught the ball, and the momentum had shifted completely in her team’s favor.
The match had just turned in their favor, and My Mom was on top of the world. As she held the ball securely in her hands, we all erupted in joyous applause. The catch was perfect—everything had come together in that one glorious moment.
Deepak ran straight to my mom 
My mom couldn’t contain her excitement. She jumped in joy, holding the ball tightly to her chest, her lips parting into a wide smile. Her saree swirled around her legs as she spun once, almost like a girl half her age, basking in the moment.
Deepak and Karthik rushed in first, arms open. “Super catch, Aunty!” they shouted in unison. Both of them hugged her warmly, one from the side, the other from behind, lifting her slightly off the ground. She laughed aloud, her bangles jingling, her breasts pressing into them as she wriggled playfully to free herself.
I ran closer too, watching the scene with my heart racing. She looked so alive, cheeks flushed, navel peeking where her saree had shifted in the movement. She held the ball up high like a trophy, her voice ringing with joy: “Rajan is out! Now nothing can stop us!”
Deepak's Dad, still standing tall as umpire, gave a small smile and shook his head, amused at the wild celebration right in the middle of the ground.
I couldn’t hold myself back any longer. I rushed in and wrapped my arms around my mom from the front, pulling her close. She laughed softly, still clutching the ball in her hand, her breasts pressing against my chest as I hugged her tightly.
Leaning to her side, I kissed her cheek slowly, lingering for a moment. Her skin was warm, carrying the faint scent of her sweat mixed with jasmine. In a whisper only she could hear, I reminded her, “Mom… you promised to let me kiss your Pussy lips…”
Her eyes widened, a quick blush spreading across her face. She gently placed her hand on my back, squeezing me lightly, then whispered back, “Varun… control yourself… at least until the match gets over.”
She smiled, hiding her reaction from Deepak and Karthik, who were still cheering and shouting around us. But her cheek stayed red where my lips had touched, and I knew she was as flustered as I was.
The bowler charged in for the last ball of the over. My Mom stood alert at cover, her eyes following every move. The ball pitched up perfectly in the slot, and the batsman swung through with raw power.
CRACK!
The ball rocketed high and long, sailing over the boundary rope for a massive six. The sound of the strike echoed sharply in the emptiness of the ground, making it feel even more intimidating.
My Mom froze, her eyes wide, lips parting in shock as she watched the ball disappear beyond the ropes. Deepak and Karthik stood silently at their fielding positions, their excitement from the last ball completely wiped away.
The emptiness of the ground made the silence heavier—no cheers, no distractions—just the echo of that brutal hit and the sinking feeling in My Mom’s team.
I looked at my mom. She placed her hands on her waist, her chest rising and falling with her breathing, trying to process the sudden hit. The glow of her earlier celebration faded, replaced by a worried determination in her eyes.

[novelistcasanova]

Deepak's Dad ran towards My Mom and hugged her tightly. My Mom hugged him back, wrapping her arms around his neck. Deepak's Dad whispered something softly into her ear, then kissed her cheek. My Mom smiled, nodded, and kissed his cheek back.

Deepak's Dad hugged My Mom tightly, his chest pressing against her breasts inside her blouse. My Mom gasped softly, the squeeze making her body tremble as she clung to his shoulders. She whispered into his ear, her warm breath brushing his skin, and Deepak's Dad turned his head to kiss her lips. My Mom kissed him back, slow and eager, her lips opening for his as their mouths pressed together again and again. His tongue slid between her lips, and My Mom moaned, pulling him closer.
Deepak's Dad’s hands moved down her back, gripping her waist firmly before sliding lower to her buttocks hidden under her saree. He pressed her buttocks in his palms, squeezing through the saree while their lips kept meeting in hungry kisses. My Mom’s breasts rubbed against his chest through her blouse with every movement, making her body heat rise as she melted into his embrace.
Deepak's Dad’s hands stayed firm on My Mom’s buttocks under her saree, squeezing them with a hunger that made her body shiver. My Mom tilted her head, still kissing his lips wetly, then slowly pulled back just enough to bring her lips close to his ear. Her breath was hot, teasing.
“You like holding my buttocks, don’t you?” she whispered, her voice playful yet husky.
Deepak's Dad groaned, his grip tightening on her buttocks as if her words pushed him deeper into desire. My Mom let out a soft laugh, brushing her lips against his ear before kissing down to his jawline.
“Even through my saree and blouse… you can feel my breasts against you, and my buttocks in your hands… what if I let you touch them without anything in between?” she whispered, nipping his ear lightly.
Her breasts in her blouse pressed harder against his chest as she said it, her body moving in rhythm with his touch, making the air between them heavy with heat.
Deepak's Dad’s breath came ragged, her teasing words driving him wild. He pressed his forehead to hers, his lips trembling against hers as he muttered, “My Mom… I want to feel every part of you… not just through saree and blouse… just finish this match quickly”
Before she could answer, he crushed his mouth against hers, his kiss wet and demanding. His tongue slipped inside, tasting her deeply, while his hands moved bolder over her buttocks. He slid his palms across their roundness, squeezing, then spreading them apart through the saree, making My Mom moan into his mouth.
Her breasts in her blouse mashed harder against his chest with every squeeze he gave. My Mom gasped between kisses, her lips wet and parted.
My Mom let out a soft moan as Deepak's Dad’s fingers dug into her buttocks. She pulled back slightly, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispered, “Enough for now, Sir… don’t make me lose myself here…”
She then caught his lips again, kissing him wet and slow, letting her tongue tease his before pulling away with a mischievous smile. Her breasts in her blouse pressed hard against his chest one last time as she gave his buttocks a quick squeeze in return, making him groan.
With her lips still glistening from his kiss, she whispered, “Control yourself… you’re the umpire now… don’t get caught looking at me like this…”
Deepak's Dad gave her buttocks one final squeeze before stepping back reluctantly, his lips swollen from her kiss, his eyes dark with hunger. My Mom straightened her saree, her chest still rising fast under her blouse, then gave him a playful glance as she turned him back toward the umpire’s chair.


Over 2, Ball 1
Prakash adjusted his stance at the crease, ready to face the ball. Behind him, My Mom crouched gracefully in her wicketkeeper’s position, her breasts in blouse resting lightly on her knees as she bent forward. From that close, she could smell the sweat on his neck and see how tightly his arms flexed holding the bat.
The bowler charged in, released — CRACK! Prakash swung and lifted the ball beautifully over long-on for a towering six. The boys shouted and clapped. My Mom clapped too, leaning in from behind, whispering with a playful smile, “Wah, Prakash… what a shot.”
Prakash, still catching his breath, turned back slightly. His face came so close to My Mom’s that their lips almost touched. His eyes flicked down to her mouth, then back up. He whispered, “Thank you, Aunty… you gave me confidence.”
My Mom tilted her head, her lips brushing his as she replied, “Maybe you deserve a small reward…” Before he could react, she leaned forward and kissed his lips softly, quick but full of mischief.
She pulled back with a blush, biting her lower lip as if she’d done something forbidden yet thrilling. Prakash froze for a second, lips tingling, then gave her a stunned smile before turning back to face the next ball, while My Mom stayed behind him, cheeks red, heart racing.


Over 2, Ball 2
Prakash stepped closer, still flushed from his last six. My Mom crouched behind him, breasts in her blouse moving slightly as she leaned forward, buttocks outlined in her yellow saree, shifting with her weight. Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she whispered, “Did you like it, Prakash?”
Before he could answer, she kissed him softly. The kiss started gentle and teasing, then she deepened it, moving her lips slowly over his, letting him taste her warmth. Prakash shivered, his body reacting instantly, heat building between his legs.
She pulled back slightly, lips hovering near his. “Do you want more?” she asked playfully.
Breathless, he nodded. “Yes… I want more, My Mom.”
My Mom smiled and leaned in again, kissing him longer and more passionately. Her lips moved slowly over his, a little teasing with her tongue. Prakash groaned softly, leaning closer, caught in the warmth and rhythm of her lips.
The world around them—the crease, the bowler, the game—faded as they kissed. When they finally parted, My Mom’s cheeks were flushed, lips glistening, and Prakash’s eyes shone with heat and excitement.
The next ball came fast. Distracted by the kiss, Prakash swung poorly, edging the ball straight to the fielder.
“Out!” Deepak's Dad called, while the boys laughed. My Mom smirked, knowing her passionate kiss had completely distracted him.
I watched as Deepak, Karthik, and Deepak's Dad hurried over to My Mom, their faces full of excitement. “Aunty, that was amazing!” Deepak said, grinning, while Karthik added, “You really distracted Prakash perfectly. Now it’s easy!”
Deepak's Dad leaned close to My Mom and whispered, “Next is Arjun, the last wicket. If you get him out, the match is ours.”
I stood beside them, feeling a rush of pride and heat at how beautiful and commanding My Mom looked—breasts in her blouse shifting slightly, buttocks outlined in her yellow saree—even under the intensity of the match.
I reached out, putting my hand lightly on her shoulder. “Don’t worry, My Mom,” I said, my voice low. “We’ll win this. Just focus on him, and the rest will follow.”
She looked at me, eyes bright, and smiled. I could feel the tension between us—how her gaze lingered on me, how my heart thudded, thinking about the kisses we had shared. I leaned closer and whispered, “We’ve got this. And after the match… you promised me, remember?”
My Mom’s smile deepened, and she squeezed my hand, nodding. I felt my pulse quicken. This wasn’t just a game anymore—it was us, teasing and daring each other, all under the guise of cricket.
Deepak moved closer to My Mom, a grin spreading across his face. “Aunty, all the credit for this win should go to you,” he said, and before she could respond, he leaned in and kissed her lips firmly.
My Mom froze for a moment, blushing deeply, breasts pressing slightly against her blouse, buttocks outlined in her yellow saree, then pulled back, laughing softly, her cheeks pink. She looked at Deepak, still smiling, and whispered, “Don’t get too full of yourself, okay?”
I stood nearby, watching, my pulse quickening. My Mom’s laughter, her playful blush, the way she held herself—it made me ache inside. My Mom had this power, this effect on everyone around her, and yet somehow, I was the only one who felt every tiny look, every brush of her touch, in a way no one else did.
Deepak's Dad chuckled behind us, clapping lightly. “Focus now, Sudha. Arjun is coming. This is it—the last wicket. One more and the match is ours.”
My Mom nodded, still blushing, and straightened her stance behind the stumps. I couldn’t take my eyes off her, thinking about how much I wanted her once this game was over.
Karthik stepped closer, a mischievous grin on his face. He gently held My Mom’s face in his hands and kissed her lips, slow and teasing. “Aunty, you’re the best captain ever,” he whispered against her mouth, making her blush and shiver slightly, breasts moving in her blouse, buttocks outlined in her yellow saree.
My Mom pulled back a little, her eyes sparkling with determination. “Let’s get Arjun out first,” she said, firm and focused, her playful smile still lingering.
I stood beside them, feeling my pulse race. My Mom looked stunning even in the middle of the game, teasing them with her lips yet keeping her eyes locked on the pitch. Every glance, every subtle movement she made, had me burning inside, imagining all the ways I wanted to hold her once the match ended.
Over 2, Ball 3
Arjun walked up to the crease, looking confident. My Mom crouched behind the stumps, breasts filling her blouse, buttocks outlined in her yellow saree, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
Before the bowler could deliver, My Mom leaned forward, lips close to his. “You’re naughty, Arjun,” she whispered, kissing his lips softly. Arjun responded eagerly, kissing her lips back. She blushed lightly at his boldness.
“Another one?” he asked, his voice low.
My Mom smiled, cupping his face gently. “Yes,” she said, and kissed him again, slow and lingering, letting him taste her fully.
Finally, the bowler released the ball. Distracted by My Mom, Arjun swung and completely missed. The ball went past him harmlessly, wasted.
I stood nearby, watching My Mom—My Mom—play her teasing game. Her lips, her smile, the way she held him—it made my heart race, my pulse thudding in my chest. She was beautiful, commanding, and utterly intoxicating.
Over 2, Ball 4
Arjun adjusted his stance, eyes flicking to My Mom behind the stumps. He couldn’t help but stare at her breasts through her yellow blouse, and he whispered, “Aunty… your black bra is visible.”
My Mom’s cheeks flushed pink immediately. “You’re so naughty! Focus on the match, not my breasts,” she scolded softly, her lips curling into a teasing smile.
Arjun grinned, his eyes still lingering over her breasts, unable to resist.
The bowler released the ball. Arjun swung, but his concentration was broken. He missed completely, wasting another ball.
I watched My Mom, her buttocks outlined in the yellow saree, breasts bouncing slightly with every movement, teasing Arjun and keeping him distracted. My heart thumped as I realized how effortlessly she commanded attention, even in the middle of the game.
Over 2, Ball 5
Arjun stepped up, eyes flicking to My Mom, and whispered, “Aunty… are you wearing your panties under your saree?”
My Mom’s cheeks turned bright pink. “Yes,” she admitted softly, a shy smile tugging at her lips.
Arjun’s grin widened, his temptation clear. “Can I have a kiss?” he asked, leaning slightly closer.
My Mom laughed softly, shaking her head playfully before leaning in and kissing him on the lips. The kiss was slow, teasing, letting him taste her fully. Her breasts pressed lightly against her blouse, buttocks outlined in the yellow saree as she leaned forward, holding his face gently.
The bowler readied himself, but Arjun, distracted by the kiss and My Mom’s presence, completely missed the delivery. The ball went past harmlessly, wasted again.


Over 2, Ball 6
Arjun stepped up to bat, trying to focus. My Mom crouched behind the stumps, breasts filling her yellow blouse, buttocks outlined in her yellow chiffon saree, a playful glint in her eyes.
She leaned forward, whispering directly to him, “Arjun… I’m wearing my black bra under my blouse, and my yellow petticoat under my saree.”
Arjun’s eyes widened, and he swallowed hard, clearly distracted.
The bowler ran in, but before the ball even reached him, My Mom whispered again, soft and teasing: “Arjun… I’m wearing my black panties underneath.”
The moment the words left her lips, Arjun completely lost his concentration. His bat swung too late, and the ball hit the stumps. “Bowled!”
The final whistle blew, and our team erupted in cheer. My Mom’s team crowded around her, hugging and patting her back. Deepak grinned, kissing My Mom’s cheek as he hugged her for a moment. “Aunty, you led us to victory! All credit to you!”
Karthik laughed, wrapping his arms around her from the other side. “Seriously, Aunty… the way you distracted them… I’ve never seen anything like it!”
Deepak's Dad jogged over from the umpire’s end, clapping and smiling. “Incredible work, Sudha. You not only won the match, you had them all distracted perfectly. Well done.”
I stepped closer, placing my hands on her waist and pulling her against me. “We did it, Mom. You were amazing out there,” I whispered, brushing my lips softly against hers.
My Mom’s cheeks flushed, her lips curving into that teasing smile I loved. “Now… you promised, remember?” she said, her voice low, playful, and full of promise.
Her breasts pressed lightly against my chest, her buttocks brushing against me as she leaned in, teasing me with every movement. I could feel her warmth, her excitement, the adrenaline of the win still coursing through her.
The match was over, but My Mom wasn’t done. She turned to Deepak first, smiling mischievously. “Aunty, what are you doing?” he asked nervously, and she giggled, leaning close. “All that effort deserves a reward,” she whispered, and kissed him on the cheek. His eyes widened, and I could see him shiver slightly.
Next, she moved to Karthik, cupping his face in her hands. “Aunty, you can’t—” he started, but she kissed him on the lips, holding it long enough to make him tremble. “There… now you’ll always remember who led the team to victory,” she teased, her breasts moving in the blouse, buttocks swaying in the saree.
Deepak's Dad approached last, still smiling from the umpire’s end. My Mom leaned close, whispered something in his ear, then kissed his cheek, leaving him clearly flustered.
I wrapped my arm around My Mom’s waist, pulling her close. Her breasts pressed against my chest, her buttocks brushing my side, and I could feel her warmth radiating through her yellow saree.
I leaned in and kissed her lips deeply, exploring slowly, tasting every part of her mouth. Her lips were soft, sweet, and slightly teasing, and when I probed with my tongue, she parted slightly, letting me taste her tongue.
Her moan against my lips made me shiver, and I held her tighter, pressing my body subtly against hers, feeling her respond to every motion. The taste of her—her lips, her tongue—was intoxicating. I couldn’t get enough.
My Mom’s hands found my shoulders, holding me as she returned the kiss, slow and teasing, letting me feel every second of her desire. I grinned against her lips, knowing that victory on the field was nothing compared to this moment with her.
I held My Mom close, arm still around her waist, feeling the soft sway of her buttocks in the yellow saree and the gentle press of her breasts against my chest.
I deepened the kiss, exploring her lips with more intensity, letting my tongue move slowly against hers. She responded eagerly, moaning softly, her hands clutching my shoulders as she leaned into me. Every movement of hers—her body, her lips, the way her saree shifted—made me ache inside.
I pulled her slightly closer, tilting her head, savoring the taste of her lips and tongue, letting the sensation build between us. She teased me with soft, playful nips, making me shiver with desire.
My Mom’s breathing quickened, and I could feel her responding fully to me, her body pressing closer, **her breasts and buttocks moving in rhythm with my own. I grinned against her lips, knowing she enjoyed this as much as I did.
Even with the team still celebrating nearby, I was lost in her—the taste, the feel, the intoxicating closeness of My Mom. Victory had brought us together, but this—her lips, her warmth, her scent—was something no cricket match could ever compare to.
Even as I held My Mom close, I noticed a shadow cross her smile. She pulled slightly back from me, her eyes softening, breasts settling in the yellow blouse, buttocks swaying slightly in her saree.
I watched as My Mom walked over toward Rajan’s team, her steps graceful, her head held high but her expression gentle. She leaned slightly toward them, offering comforting words, her voice soft and soothing. Even though they had lost, she seemed intent on lifting their spirits, patting a shoulder here, smiling there.
Rajan, Arjun, and Prakash looked up, surprised by her kindness. My Mom’s black bra visible through her yellow blouse, yellow petticoat underneath the saree made her presence magnetic, but her genuine concern for them softened the effect.
I followed her with my eyes, feeling a mix of pride and desire. Even in this moment of sympathy, her warmth, her beauty, her teasing energy drew me in completely. She was My Mom—victorious, teasing, compassionate, and utterly irresistible.
The moment Rajan saw My Mom, he raised his hand slightly and said, “Congratulations,” his face showing disappointment and sadness.
“I’m sorry, Rajan… I didn’t mean to distract you with all those kisses and teasing.”
Rajan chuckled softly, shaking his head, a playful glint in his eyes. “Distract me? No way… I loved it. I enjoyed every single kiss,” he said, his voice low and full of admiration.
My mom’s cheeks deepened in color as she smiled, feeling both bashful and thrilled by his words. “You really did?” she asked, teasing him with a soft laugh.
“Absolutely,” he replied, leaning closer, their faces inches apart. “You have no idea how irresistible you are.”
Rajan held My mom’s waist gently, pulling her closer. “Can I have another kiss?” he asked, his voice low and teasing.
My mom nodded, blushing, leaning in slightly.
Rajan kissed My mom’s lips slowly and softly, savoring the moment. She responded, closing her eyes and smiling, enjoying the warmth and the playful closeness.
While Rajan was kissing my mom’s lips, I felt a sharp jolt through me. My mom’s lips, her blush, her laughter… I couldn’t stop imagining being the one holding her, kissing her softly, feeling her warmth against me.
She pulled back slightly, grinning, and I could see the sparkle in her eyes—the same sparkle she always had when she was teasing, when she was in control, and when she was utterly beautiful. I clenched my fists slightly, trying to contain myself, but the thought of her, her Breasts in the Yellow Blouse, her Buttocks in the Saree, her lips… made my pulse race.
I whispered to myself, “Mommy!  You are mine!.” For now, I had to watch, just a step behind, enjoying her playful teasing, her laughter, and the way she made even Rajan melt with just a few soft kisses.
My mom walked over to Prakash, blushing slightly, and whispered, “I’m sorry for distracting you with all those kisses… I didn’t mean to make you lose.”
Prakash chuckled softly, shaking his head, his eyes glinting. “Distract me? No way… I loved every single kiss. You kissed me so well,” he said, leaning closer and kissing her lips softly in return.
My mom blushed deeply, smiling as she pulled back slightly. “You really enjoyed it?” she teased, her voice playful.
“I loved it,” Prakash replied, smiling and giving her a soft, lingering kiss on her lips, making My mom giggle and blush at the warmth and the thrill of their closeness.
Prakash looked at My mom, his eyes lingering on her Breasts in the Yellow Blouse, her Buttocks in the Yellow Chiffon Saree, and her Pantyline showing slightly, and said softly, “You look like a dream… I’d love to make love to you.”
My mom’s cheeks flushed a deep red, and she smiled shyly, blushing and stepping away, murmuring, “You’re too naughty…”
She walked toward Arjun, still feeling the warmth of Prakash’s words and the thrill of the attention, ready to interact with the next teammate while keeping her playful, teasing energy.
My mom walked over to Arjun, blushing lightly, and whispered, “I’m sorry for distracting you with that kiss… I didn’t mean to make you lose focus.”
Arjun smiled, shaking his head, his eyes warm and teasing. “Distract me? No way… just like Rajan and Prakash, I enjoyed it. I loved the taste of your lips,” he said softly.
My mom’s cheeks deepened in color, blushing as she smiled shyly, feeling the thrill of his words and the playful closeness between them.
My mom walked over to Naresh and shook his hand, whispering, “I’m sorry… your team lost today.”
Instead of replying, Naresh pulled her into a hug, holding her close for a moment. Then he kissed her cheek softly, a teasing smile on his face.
“I guess I wasn’t as lucky as Rajan and Prakash to get a proper kiss from you,” he murmured, making My Mom blush deeply and giggle, feeling the playful warmth of his words.
Rajan looked at My Mom, a hint of frustration in his voice. “We lost… 30 Lakhs because of you. That money would have helped with our college fees, and so many other things we needed.”
My mom’s chest tightened, guilt washing over her. “I… I’m really sorry, Rajan,” she whispered, her voice soft and remorseful.
She felt the weight of the loss on their faces, and it made her wish she could have done more without distracting them, even if it was all in the spirit of the game.
Rajan sighed, looking at her with a mix of admiration and regret. “It’s okay… I guess some things are worth more than money,” he added, giving her a small, bittersweet smile.
Rajan stepped closer, his eyes glinting with mischief and desire. “Aunty… if you let us make love to you, maybe we can forget the loss, the 30 Lakhs… and just move on with our lives,” he whispered, his voice low and enticing.
My mom blushed deeply, feeling a mix of guilt and excitement. She hesitated for a moment, then smiled shyly, teasing him back, “You’re too naughty, Rajan…”
Rajan grinned, leaning in just slightly, their faces inches apart, the playful tension between them crackling, leaving both of them flushed and aware of the dangerous allure of the moment.

[novelistcasanova]

Rajan looked at My mom, a mix of frustration and desire in his eyes. “Aunty… we are so desperate to make love to you after getting kissed by you. You distracted us, teased us… and now we’re all tempted,” he said, his voice low and intense.

He stepped closer, his gaze fixed on her, making her feel the weight of his words. “This is all your fault—your kisses, your teasing… you made it impossible for us to focus.”
My mom felt a rush of guilt, blushing deeply, knowing he wasn’t entirely wrong. “I… I didn’t mean to…” she whispered softly, her voice trembling, feeling the effect of her own actions on them.
Rajan smiled, leaning in just slightly, the tension between them thick, leaving My Mom caught between guilt, excitement, and the playful, erotic energy lingering in the air.
Rajan stepped forward first, his voice low and pleading. “Autny… please, just one chance… I promise I’ll be careful.”
Prakash followed, his eyes wide, “Aunty… I so badly want to enjoy making love to you… just a little, please.”
Arjun shuffled closer, almost shyly, “I… I won’t forget it if you just give me one chance to enjoy your Pussys…”
Naresh hung back for a moment, then whispered, “Aunty… just a tiny moment… please let me enjoy you.”
I could feel my pulse racing, my hands clenching. “No one gets you but me, Mom,” I said, my voice low, possessive, and teasing.
She looked at me, blushing deeply, a small smile playing on her lips. “I don’t know what to say,” she whispered back.
I leaned closer, brushing my hand along her waist, feeling her Breasts in her Yellow Blouse, her Buttocks in her Saree, and whispered, “Good. You’re mine today. All mine.”
My Mom giggled softly, leaning closer, her eyes sparkling, “Okay… you’ve got me, My Mom’s yours.”
The others’ eyes widened, realizing their pleading meant nothing, while I held her close, enjoying the playful tension, her blush, and every little shiver she gave me.
Rajan’s team were so desperate to fuck my mom that, they all started kneeling in front of my mom and began begging her to let them fuck her.
Rajan knelt first, his eyes fixed on My Mom. “Aunty… please… just one chance… I promise I’ll be careful,” he said, his voice low and earnest.
Prakash followed, his gaze pleading. “Aunty… I will cum quickly… I won’t forget it… please.”
Arjun shuffled closer, almost shyly. “Aunty… please.”
Naresh hung back for a moment, whispering softly, “Please… just a little moment… I won’t ask again, Aunty.”


When Rajan’s team were begging to fuck my mom, I could feel myself getting turned on, my heart pounding as I looked at my mom. “Mom… do it for me,” I whispered, my voice low and urgent.
She hesitated, shaking her head slightly. “No… no way,” she murmured, biting her lip.
I leaned closer, brushing my hand along her waist, feeling her Breasts in her Yellow Blouse, her Buttocks in her Saree, and whispered, “Do it for me… just this once. Please, Mom.”
Her eyes softened, and she smiled, leaning into me. “I… I love you,” she said, her voice tender. “If it’s for you, I’ll do anything… I’ll do it.”
I grinned, planting a quick kiss to her cheek, feeling her shiver slightly.
The moment my mom said yes, Rajan’s team practically jumped in excitement. Rajan, Prakash, Arjun, and Naresh looked at each other, their eyes wide with anticipation.
Without waiting, they started guiding her toward the Dressing Room, their hands gentle but eager, their faces full of longing.
I felt a sharp rush of possessiveness, my fists clenching. “Hey! My Mom is Mine,” I muttered under my breath, stepping closer, my gaze burning with intensity.
My Mom glanced back at me, blushing but smiling, and whispered, “Don’t worry… I’m yours too, Varun.”
I could feel my pulse racing as she let them guide her, her Breasts in her Yellow Blouse, her Buttocks in her Saree brushing against their hands. My Mom’s mischievous smile made my desire spike even more, knowing she was letting them approach, but still thinking of me.
Waiting no time, Naresh stepped forward, eyes filled with anticipation. “I’ll go first,” he said, his voice low and eager.
Before I could react, he gently lifted My Mom into his arms. I could feel a rush of possessiveness and heat surge through me. Her Breasts in her Yellow Blouse, her Buttocks in her Saree pressed lightly against him as he carried her.
He set her down carefully on the table, and I could see My mom blushing but playful, glancing at me with that mischievous sparkle in her eyes.



Naresh stepped back for a moment, then slowly began removing his white T-shirt and removed his white pants and underwear and got naked.
My stomach twisted, heat rising inside me, as he stood in front of my mom, naked, every inch of his body tense with erect cock, waiting for her.
He didn’t rush. Every glance, every slow movement seemed calculated to make her ache, and I could see her eyes following his every motion. Her breathing quickened as his gaze met hers, and I felt my own pulse racing, unable to look away.
I could barely breathe as Naresh’s hands slid under My Mom’s Yellow Chiffon Saree and Yellow Petticoat, Naresh’s hands moved deliberately, fingers hooking the waistband of My Mom’s black panties. He tugged them down slowly, inch by inch, letting them slide over her hips and buttocks. My Mom’s soft gasps filled the room as the panties pooled at her thighs, leaving her bare vagina exposed.
Her buttocks pressed lightly against the table as she arched toward him, waist bending slightly, breasts rising and falling under the black bra and Yellow Blouse. The smooth, clean-shaved outer lips of her vagina glistened in the light, catching my eyes, and my hand tightened around hers instinctively.
My Mom’s lips parted in a small moan, eyes flicking toward me with a shy, daring glance, letting me know I was part of this moment. Naresh’s fingers lingered on her hips, teasing the bare skin, and I could see her shivering with anticipation, every inch of her alive with desire.
Naresh paused for a moment, hands resting on My Mom’s hips, eyes tracing the lines of her body. Then he leaned closer, his gaze fixed on her vagina, and a low, husky sound of admiration escaped him.
“Aunty… you’re Pussy so beautiful,” he murmured, fingers brushing lightly over the smooth, clean-shaved outer lips of her vagina. “Every part of you… perfect.”
My Mom shivered, her breasts rising and falling under the yellow blouse black bra, buttocks pressing against the table as a flush spread across her waist and hips. She bit her lips, her hand tightening around mine, holding me close as if to anchor herself in the moment.
I could feel the heat radiating off her body, the anticipation in her vagina, the way her hips shifted subtly under his touch. Every soft gasp and small moan from her lips made it impossible to look away, and I realized just how intimate, how alive this moment was—for her, for him, and for me, standing so close and holding her hand.
Naresh leaned lower, kissing the smooth, clean-shaved outer lips of My Mom’s vagina. I could hear her soft gasp, the subtle quiver in her hips as he kissed her, tongue teasing the tender folds.
My Mom’s buttocks pressed into the table, waist arching slightly, breasts rising and falling under the yellow blouse and black bra with every shuddering breath. Her lips parted, letting out soft moans that filled the quiet dressing room, and I could see the heat radiating from her, the flush spreading across her waist and hips.
She squeezed my hand tighter, guiding me closer, her eyes glinting with a mix of shyness and desire. Naresh’s fingers gripped the curve of her hips, holding her steady as his mouth explored her vagina, and I could see her trembling, every inch of her alive with sensation.
“Ah… Naresh…” she gasped, her soft moans making it impossible for me to look away. The way her vagina responded, the slick glistening on the outer lips, every movement of her buttocks and hips against the table—it was overwhelming. I stayed close, hand in hers, watching and feeling everything, caught between awe and desire.
Naresh’s hands moved to his penis, stroking it slowly as his eyes never left My Mom’s vagina. I could see the way her outer lips glistened, the smooth, clean-shaved skin trembling slightly with anticipation. Her hips shifted instinctively, buttocks pressing into the table, waist arching as breasts rose and fell under the black bra.
Then he positioned himself at her entrance, and with a slow, deliberate motion, he entered her vagina. My Mom’s soft moan escaped her lips, a long, drawn-out, trembling sound:
“Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm…”
Her left hand gripped his shoulder, waist bending into him, hips moving instinctively with the thrust, buttocks pressing against the table. I could see her breasts quivering under the black bra, navel brushing lightly against his stomach, and the flush spreading across her waist and hips made her look completely alive, completely consumed by the sensation.
I held her hand tightly, unable to look away, watching every inch of him enter her, every soft moan, every quiver of her vagina, every movement of her buttocks and hips. The intimacy, the heat, the desire in the room was overwhelming, and I could feel it all from where I stood, my heart racing.
As Rajan, Prakash, and Prakash surrounded my mom and stroking their cocks watching Naresh enjoying making love to my mom’s beautiful Pussy, Rajan could not control himself and for a moment, his hands moving up to the front of My Mom’s Yellow Blouse. With careful, deliberate fingers, he unhooked it, letting the blouse open and fall slightly to reveal her black bra underneath.
Her breasts lifted as the bra held them, nipples visible through the dark fabric, quivering with anticipation. My Mom’s waist arched subtly, hips shifting, and her buttocks pressed more firmly against the edge of the table as she gasped softly.
I could see the way her lips parted in a small, shivering moan, eyes fluttering, and I instinctively held her hand tighter. The Yellow Chiffon Saree and Yellow Petticoat framed her perfectly, contrasting vividly with the black bra, and every curve of her breasts, waist, and hips seemed to glow with desire under the dressing room lights.
Rajan’s hands lingered on her breasts, thumbs teasing over the bra, and I could see My Mom trembling, every inch of her responding, vagina glistening, buttocks shifting with the subtle movements of her hips, navel brushing lightly against him, completely alive with sensation.
Naresh’s movements slowed for a brief moment, his eyes locked on My Mom’s bare vagina. His voice was low, husky, full of desire as he murmured,
“Aunty… your vagina is so beautiful… so tight. You have no idea how much I am enjoying your Pussy.”
Her soft moan escaped her lips, long and trembling:
“Mmmmmmm…”
I watched as her hips pressed into him, buttocks rocking slightly with every movement, waist arched, breasts quivering under the black bra. The flush across her waist and hips deepened, and her vagina tightened subtly with each thrust, responding to him completely.
Naresh’s hand gripped her hips firmly, holding her in place as he moved with increasing urgency. I could see the tension building in him, every motion sharper, faster, every thrust making My Mom gasp and moan. Her breasts bounced, nipples brushing against his chest, navel pressing against him, and buttocks shifting with every thrust.
Her lips parted in soft, shivering moans, vagina clenching around him, and I could feel my own pulse racing, held tight in her hand, witnessing the intensity of desire, pleasure, and near-completion between them.
Meanwhile, Rajan’s hands moved to the straps of My Mom’s black bra, sliding them off her shoulders with deliberate care. He unclasped it from the back, letting the bra fall away and leaving her breasts completely bare.
He guided her gently to lie down flat on the table, her Yellow Chiffon Saree and Yellow Petticoat framing her body, vagina still glistening, buttocks pressed lightly against the surface. I held her hand tightly, my eyes glued to every movement.
Rajan’ gaze traveled over her breasts, tracing the shape, the soft swell, the nipples taut and inviting. His voice was low, full of awe:
“Aunty… your breasts… they’re perfect. The shape, the softness… everything about them is beautiful.”
He leaned down, placing one hand on her waist to steady her as he took a breast in his mouth, sucking gently, tongue teasing her nipple. My Mom arched instinctively, a soft moan escaping her lips. Then he switched to the other breast, alternating slowly, deliberately, every movement sending shivers through her waist, hips, and vagina.
Her breasts rose and fell under his mouth, nipples hardening, her buttocks pressing lightly into the table with each shiver. My Mom’s soft moans filled the dressing room, her lips parting, vagina clenching subtly as Naresh’s attention moved from one breast to the other, worshipping every inch of her bare skin.
I stayed close, hand in hers, watching her trembling body, waist, hips, breasts, buttocks, and vagina, completely consumed by desire, utterly alive under his touch.
Meanwhile Naresh’s movements became deeper, harder, each thrust into My Mom’s vagina deliberate, measured, sending shivers through her waist, hips, and buttocks. I could hear the soft, wet sound of him moving inside her, feel the heat radiating from her trembling body, and watch her breasts rise and fall with every shuddering breath.
His voice was low, husky, filled with desire as he murmured to her:
“Aunty… you’re so close… I can feel you about to cum.”
My Mom gasped, a long, trembling moan escaping her lips:
“Mmmmmmmmm… ah… Naresh…”
Her vagina clenched around him instinctively, buttocks pressing into the table, waist arching as every thrust drove deeper. Her breasts bounced under the black bra, nipples brushing against his chest, navel pressing lightly against him with each movement.
Naresh’s hands gripped her hips, pulling her closer with every thrust, groaning softly as he lost himself in the pleasure. I could see the tension building in him, hear the low moans escaping his lips, feel the electricity in the room as My Mom shivered, moaned, and trembled, completely consumed by the sensations.
I held her hand tighter, feeling every shiver, every quiver of her vagina, every arch of her waist and movement of her buttocks, utterly captivated by the raw, overwhelming intimacy between them.
My Mom’s shudders intensified, vagina clenching tightly around Naresh, hips pressing urgently into him, buttocks trembling as her waist arched. I could see her breasts rising and falling under the black bra, nipples taut, navel brushing lightly against him.
“Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm mmmmmmmmmmmmm mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm mmmmm,” she moaned. 
Then, in a surprising, heated moment, my mom pulled me close to her and she turned her lips toward me. Her eyes, glinting with shyness and hunger, and began kissing my lips, holding my hand tightly. Before I could react, she kissed me deeply, passionately, lips kissing my lips with a mix of urgency and desire.
Naresh groaned beneath her, lost in her vagina, and I could feel the heat, the intensity of the moment building. “Mmmmmmmmmmm mmmmmmmmmm mmmmmmm mmmmmmm,” as my mom was making loud, the moment Naresh his cock deep inside my mom’s pussy, “Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa aaaaaaaaaaaaaaa aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa,” my mom moaned loud, my mom began cumming with her vagina tightening, hips trembling, and I felt it wash over me through her kiss. At the same instant, Naresh groaned, “aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa” and thrusting a final time as he came deep inside my mom’s pussy, their release merging in a flood of heat and pleasure.
Her buttocks quivered on the table, breasts bouncing with the aftershocks, and I held her close, kissing her back as the warmth and passion of the moment consumed all three of us. The dressing room was filled with soft moans, shivering waist, hips, and the intimate intensity of two bodies climaxing together while she shared the moment with me.
My Mom’s shudders slowly faded, hips relaxing, vagina still trembling lightly around Naresh, buttocks settling back onto the table. Her breasts rose and fell freely, nipples softening, waist curving as she exhaled deeply, her lips parted in quiet, lingering moans.
Naresh sank beside her, chest heaving, fingers still lightly grazing her hips and waist, eyes half-closed as he caught his breath. I stayed close, hand in hers, feeling the warmth of her bare body and the subtle tremors that remained in her vagina, hips, and buttocks.
My Mom looked at me, eyes glinting with a mix of shyness and satisfaction, and her lips curved in a small, tired smile. I leaned closer and kissed her lips tasting the remnants of the passion we’d shared.
Her Yellow Chiffon Saree and Yellow Petticoat were slightly disheveled around her hips and buttocks, framing her bare breasts, vagina, and waist. Every inch of her radiated warmth and the slow, lingering pulse of pleasure, from her breasts to waist, hips, vagina, and buttocks.
I couldn’t tear my eyes away, caught between awe and desire, feeling the intimacy of the moment—My Mom, completely alive and exposed, vagina and buttocks still sensitive, breasts heaving softly, and the shared heat of what we had just experienced together.
Naresh’s hands moved to the edges of My Mom’s Yellow Chiffon Saree, sliding it gently over her hips and buttocks, letting the saree all away completely. She was now completely naked except for the Yellow Petticoat, her breasts, vagina, waist, and buttocks fully exposed to the soft light of the dressing room.
He leaned closer for a brief moment, carefully wiping her vagina with her Yellow chiffon Saree, his fingers tracing lightly over the smooth, clean-shaved outer lips. My Mom shivered slightly but did not pull away, her soft lips parting in a tiny gasp as he attended to her with gentle care.

[novelistcasanova]

Then, with a shy, determined glance at me, My Mom reached into her handbag and pulled out a wet wipe. She opened it carefully and leaned down, delicately wiping her own vagina, cleaning herself with slow, deliberate movements. Her hips shifted slightly as she did so, buttocks resting lightly on the table, breasts rising and falling with each breath, waist curving naturally as she ensured she was fully fresh and clean.

The sight of her taking care of herself, intimate yet controlled, made my heart race. Every part of her—the soft swell of her breasts, the smooth, clean-shaved vagina, the curve of her waist, and the gentle roundness of her buttocks—was vivid, exposed, and completely alive in that moment.
As Naresh, who thoroughly enjoyed making love to my mom’s pussy, sat on the chair tired, Rajan came forward.
Rajan gently turned My Mom around, guiding her to kneel on the table on her hands and knees. Her Yellow Petticoat rested around her hips, the fabric bunched slightly as he lifted it carefully, revealing her bare vagina and anus.
His eyes lingered on her, a low, husky sound of admiration escaping his lips.
“Aunty… your vagina… your anus… they’re so beautiful,” he murmured, fingers tracing lightly along her hips, buttocks, and waist. He leaned closer, letting his gaze roam over the smooth, clean-shaved outer lips of her vagina and the delicate curve of her anus, his voice full of awe.
My Mom shivered slightly, hips shifting under his touch, buttocks trembling lightly, waist curving naturally, and breasts rising and falling under the table’s soft light. Her lips parted in a small moan, glancing back at me briefly, holding my hand tightly as if to share the intimacy of the moment.
I couldn’t look away. Every inch of her—the smooth, clean-shaved vagina, the delicate anus, the curve of her waist, the roundness of her buttocks, and the soft rise and fall of her breasts—was fully exposed and completely alive under Naresh’s gaze. The admiration in his voice, the careful attention of his hands, and the shiver running through her body made the scene utterly consuming.
Rajan’s hands moved deliberately over My Mom’s hips and buttocks, pressing lightly as he leaned closer to her bare vagina and anus. His eyes roamed hungrily over every inch, and he murmured softly,
“Every part of you is perfect… I can’t get enough of your vagina and anus, My Mom.”
My Mom’s hips lifted slightly, vagina tightening around nothing but air, anus quivering lightly, buttocks trembling with anticipation. Her breasts bounced as she adjusted on her hands, waist shifting, lips parting in soft moans. She glanced back at me, holding my hand, sharing the intensity of the moment as her body responded to him completely.
Rajan traced his fingers over her vagina, teasing the smooth, clean-shaved outer lips, then moved toward her anus, running his fingertips gently along the delicate skin. My Mom gasped, a long shivering moan escaping her lips, hips rocking slightly with each touch, buttocks pressing against his hands, waist rising and falling.
Every movement, every sound, every shiver made it impossible for me to look away. Her vagina glistening, anus soft and inviting, breasts heaving, hips trembling, and buttocks quivering—My Mom was completely alive, completely consumed by pleasure under his hands.


As Rajan was about to get on the Table and fuck my mom in the doggy position, Prakash who was feasting his eyes all over my mom’s Asshole and Pussy, “Rajan, I can’t control, bro, le me fuck her, please,” as he begged, “enjoy,” Rajan said and gave way for Prakash.  Happily, Prakash got on top of the table, positioned himself carefully behind My Mom, aligning his penis with her vagina. I watched, hand in hers, as he slowly entered her, inch by inch. My Mom’s soft moan escaped her lips, a long, trembling sound:
“Mmmmmmm… ah… Prakash…”
Her hips lifted instinctively to receive him, vagina clenching slightly, anus brushing the table, buttocks trembling lightly with each movement. Her breasts bounced as she leaned forward on her hands, waist arching naturally, lips parting in soft gasps.
Prakash’s hands rested firmly on her hips and waist, guiding her hips with each thrust, groaning softly as he lost himself in the pleasure. Every movement made her shiver, vagina tightening, buttocks quivering, breasts rising and falling under the soft light.
Her moans filled the dressing room, soft and continuous, hips moving with his, vagina glistening, anus quivering slightly, waist bending into him. I stayed close, hand in hers, feeling the warmth and intensity of every motion, utterly captivated by the intimacy and desire unfolding before me.
My Mom’s hips shuddered violently, vagina tightening around Prakash’s cock, her anus quivering lightly, buttocks trembling with each thrust. Her breasts bounced freely, waist rising and falling as she gasped and moaned through parted lips.
My Mom suddenly turned her lips toward me, eyes glinting with heat and urgency. She pulled me close, and began kissing my lips in a deep, passionate kiss. Her hands gripped my shoulders as she pressed herself against me, sharing the intensity of the moment.
With a long, trembling moan escaping her lips, My Mom let out:
“mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm mmmmmmmmmmmmmm mmmmmmmmmmmm mmmmmmmmmm”
Her vagina clenching tightly around Naresh, hips shuddering, buttocks quivering. At the same instant, Naresh groaned as he reached climax:
“aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa aaaaaaaaaaaaaaa aaaaaaaaaaaaaa aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah”
Her breasts heaved, waist and hips trembling, anus quivering slightly, vagina still clenching as she rode the waves of orgasm. I held her close, kissing her back, feeling her pulse and the shivers that ran through her bare body. The dressing room was filled with trembling hips, vagina, buttocks, and the shared intimacy of the moment, utterly consuming all three of us.
My Mom’s hips slowly relaxed, vagina still trembling lightly around Prakash, anus quivering, buttocks settling back onto the table. Her breasts rose and fell freely, nipples softening, waist bending naturally as she exhaled deeply, lips parting in soft, lingering moans:
“mmmmmmmmmmm”
Prakash sank beside her, chest heaving, fingers still lightly grazing her hips and waist, eyes half-closed as he caught his breath. I stayed close, hand in hers, feeling the warmth of her bare body and the subtle tremors that remained in her vagina, anus, hips, and buttocks.
My Mom looked at me, eyes glinting with a mix of shyness and satisfaction, and her lips curved in a small, tired smile. I leaned closer, brushing my lips against hers, tasting the remnants of the passion we had shared.
Her Yellow Petticoat was slightly disheveled around her hips and buttocks, framing her bare breasts, vagina, and waist. Every inch of her radiated warmth and the slow, lingering pulse of pleasure. I couldn’t tear my eyes away, caught between awe and desire—My Mom, completely alive and exposed, vagina and anus still sensitive, breasts heaving softly, buttocks trembling, and the shared heat of what we had just experienced together.
Prakash gently helped My Mom adjust herself, smoothing the Yellow Petticoat around her hips and buttocks, letting it settle properly. Her waist curved slightly as she shifted, breasts rising and falling freely, vagina and anus still sensitive from their shared pleasure.
My Mom leaned back for a moment, taking a deep breath, lips parting in a soft moan:
“mmmmmmmmmmm”
I held her hand, feeling the warmth of her trembling hips and buttocks, watching her recover from the intensity. Naresh rested beside her, chest still heaving, fingers lightly tracing her waist and hips, admiration still clear in his eyes.
My Mom adjusted the Yellow Petticoat fully, making sure it framed her bare vagina and anus modestly now, while her breasts continued to rise and fall with each breath. She glanced back at me, eyes soft but still glowing with the lingering heat of the moment, and brushed her lips gently against mine.
Her hips shifted subtly, buttocks settling against the table, vagina relaxing, and a quiet, satisfied sigh escaped her lips:
“mmmmmmmmmmm”
The room was filled with the aftershocks of passion—the warmth of her bare breasts, vagina, anus, waist, and buttocks, the gentle pulse still lingering in her hips, and the shared intimacy between the three of us. Every detail was vivid, every movement alive, leaving a calm, intimate hush over the dressing room.
As Prakash got off the table enjoying my mom’s pussy thoroughly and sat on the chair next to Naresh, who enjoyed my mom’s pussy before him, they both gave a high give and smiled at each other and relaxed, Rajan went near my mom.
Rajan smiled at My Mom, a warm, teasing glint in his eyes. He reached into her bag and picked up a wet wipe. Gently, he lifted her Yellow Petticoat, exposing her vagina. His fingers held the wipe carefully as he cleaned her, running it lightly over the smooth, clean-shaved outer lips.
My Mom let out a soft moan as he worked:
“mmmmmmmmmmm”
Then, with careful, deliberate movements, My Mom leaned slightly and used a separate wipe on her anus, cleaning herself fully. Her hips shifted slightly, buttocks trembling under her own touch, vagina glistening softly, and waist arching as she took care of herself.
I held her hand, watching every motion—the delicate, intimate attention she gave to her own vagina and anus, the gentle rise and fall of her breasts, hips shifting, buttocks quivering slightly, and the soft, satisfied moan escaping her lips:
“mmmmmmmmmmm”
The dressing room was quiet, filled only with the intimate rhythm of their recovery. Every detail—the smooth vagina, sensitive anus, soft breasts, trembling hips, and buttocks—was vivid and alive, leaving a lingering warmth and tension in the air.

[novelistcasanova]

As Rajan was about to sleep on top of My Mom and make love to her, Arjun begged Rajan that he wanted to go next, and Rajan agreed.

My Mom lay back on the bed, Yellow Petticoat lifted all the way up to her waist, exposing her Pussy, asshole, and waist completely, her breasts free and heaving softly. Her hips shifted slightly as she settled, Ass pressing lightly against the mattress, navel glistening in the soft light.
Arjun climbed onto the bed, positioning himself on top of her. His chest pressed against her breasts, arms wrapping tightly around her waist and hips, holding her close. I could see her shivering slightly under his weight, Pussy already glistening in anticipation, asshole soft and inviting, Ass trembling lightly.
He aligned his penis with her Pussy and entered her slowly, inch by inch. My Mom let out a long, trembling moan through her lips:
“mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm mmmmmmmmmmmmmm mmmmmmmmmmmm mmmmmmmmmm”
Naresh began moving with increasing urgency, thrusting deeply and passionately. Her hips rose and fell with him, Pussy clenching tightly around him, asshole quivering slightly, Ass trembling, waist arching naturally. Her breasts bounced with each motion, nipples brushing against his chest as she gasped softly through parted lips.
I held her hand, feeling every shiver run through her hips, Pussy, asshole, Ass, and waist, utterly captivated by the raw, intimate passion unfolding before me. My Mom’s moans filled the room, long and trembling:
“mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm mmmmmmmmmmmmmm mmmmmmmmmmmm mmmmmmmmmm”
Arjun’s lips kissed My Mom’s lips, holding her tight in his arms. He whispered softly against her ears, voice thick with desire:
“Aunty… you have no idea how much I enjoyed kissing your lips on the ground…”
Her breasts bounced beneath him, waist arching as she trembled against his chest, hips shifting, Pussy already glistening in anticipation, asshole quivering lightly. Her Ass pressed against the mattress with each subtle movement, lips parting as she moaned softly:
“mmmmmmmmmmm”
Arjun deepened the kiss, his lips and tongue exploring hers passionately, while his penis entered her Pussy, moving in steady, deliberate strokes. My Mom gasped, hips rising instinctively, Pussy clenching around him, asshole quivering slightly, Ass trembling with each thrust.
Her long moans filled the dressing room:
“mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm mmmmmmmmmmmmmm mmmmmmmmmmmm mmmmmmmmmm”
Arjun’s hands roamed over her hips, waist, and Ass, holding her firmly as he continued, kissing her lips again and again, driving the passion between them higher. Her breasts heaved freely, waist bending under him, Pussy tightening with every motion, and asshole quivering in response.
I held her hand, feeling her shivers, every trembling motion of her hips, Pussy, asshole, Ass, and breasts, completely absorbed by the raw intimacy of the scene.
My Mom’s hips began to shudder, Pussy tightening around Naresh, asshole quivering slightly, Ass trembling. Her breasts rose and fell rapidly, waist arching as she gasped, long moans escaping her lips:
“mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm mmmmmmmmmmmmmm mmmmmmmmmmmm mmmmmmmmmm”
She freed her hand from mine and wrapped both arms around Arjun, pulling him tightly against her waist and hips. Her legs instinctively wound around him, Ass pressing firmly into his hips, Pussy clenched tightly, asshole quivering in time with each thrust.
At the exact moment Naresh came deep inside her Pussy, My Mom’s entire body trembled, and she let out a long, overwhelming climax:
“aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa aaaaaaaaaaaaaaa aaaaaaaaaaaaaa aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah”
Her hips lifted and shuddered, Pussy gripping him, asshole quivering lightly, Ass bouncing with the intensity. She pressed her breasts against his chest, waist arching, lips locked to his in a passionate kiss, moaning again softly:
“mmmmmmmmmmm”
I held back, watching the raw, consuming intimacy—the way her Pussy clung to him, asshole quivered, hips and Ass shook, breasts heaved, waist arched, and her lips moved in desperate, passionate kisses. The heat, the shivers, and the shared climax between them left the dressing room electric and intensely alive.
My Mom lay panting beneath Arjun, her hips still trembling lightly, Pussy and asshole softening, Ass settling onto the mattress. Her breasts heaved gently, waist curving naturally as she exhaled, lips parting in a soft moan:
“mmmmmmmmmmm”
Arjun held her close, arms wrapped around her waist and hips, pressing her breasts against his chest, breathing heavily. His penis rested still inside her Pussy, both of them slowly recovering from the intensity of their climax.
I stayed near, hand brushing hers lightly, feeling the residual warmth and subtle shivers in her hips, Pussy, asshole, Ass, and breasts. Her lips curved in a soft, satisfied smile as she leaned back slightly, pressing her breasts against him while glancing at me.
My Mom adjusted her Yellow Petticoat, pulling it gently over her hips and Ass, though her Pussy and asshole were still lightly exposed in the aftermath of their passion. Her waist arched slightly as she shifted, hips trembling softly, breasts rising and falling with each breath, lips parting for another tiny moan:
“mmmmmmmmmmm”
The dressing room was quiet now, filled only with the gentle rise and fall of their breasts, the warmth of their skin, and the subtle tremors of her Pussy, asshole, hips, and Ass. Every detail was vivid and alive—the intimacy, the closeness, the shared heat leaving a lingering tension that filled the room.
Arjun slowly pulled himself off My Mom, penis leaving her Pussy with a soft sigh. Her hips trembled slightly, Pussy and asshole still sensitive, Ass settling back onto the table, breasts rising and falling with each breath, waist arching naturally.
He reached into her handbag and picked up a wet wipe, lifting her Yellow Petticoat just enough to expose her Pussy and asshole. Arjun carefully wiped her Pussy, running the wet wipe over the smooth, clean-shaved outer lips, then moved to her asshole, cleaning her gently.
My Mom’s hips shifted slightly, Ass trembling, Pussy and asshole still responsive, breasts heaving softly. A soft moan escaped her lips as she felt the intimate attention:
“mmmmmmmmmmm”
Once she was clean, she slowly pushed herself upright, hips adjusting, waist straightening, breasts still heaving lightly, Pussy and asshole now fully fresh, Ass settling firmly on the table as she stood up completely.
Her Yellow Petticoat hung properly around her hips and waist, framing her breasts and giving her body a soft, restored elegance. Her lips parted slightly, a quiet, satisfied sigh escaping:
“mmmmmmmmmmm”
I watched quietly, captivated by every subtle movement of her hips, Pussy, asshole, Ass, waist, and breasts, feeling the lingering heat of their shared intimacy filling the dressing room.
Rajan stepped close to My Mom, hands resting firmly on her waist just above the waistband of her Yellow Petticoat, holding her steady. His lips descended on her breasts, kissing and sucking each one in turn. Her nipples hardened under his touch, breasts heaving with every motion, waist arching slightly as she shivered.
My Mom reached up, cupping his face with both hands, pressing him closer, letting herself feel the heat of his lips on her breasts. Her hips shifted slightly, Ass trembling, Pussy already glistening, asshole quivering lightly with each touch.
Soft moans escaped her lips:
“mmmmmmmmmmm”
Rajan continued, alternating between her breasts, his tongue teasing and sucking, hands lightly tracing her waist and hips. My Mom gasped and moaned again, hips trembling, Pussy tightening in response, Ass pressing lightly against his body, waist bending under his attention.
Her lips parted in desperate, soft moans as she held his face, her breasts bouncing freely under his mouth, the intimate, passionate contact making every part of her Pussy, asshole, hips, Ass, and waist alive with sensation.
Rajan gently lifted My Mom’s Yellow Petticoat, exposing her Pussy completely. His eyes roamed over her, admiration clear in his gaze.
“Aunty… your Pussy is so beautiful,” he murmured, a low, husky sound of desire in his voice.
His right hand reached out, cupping her Pussy, running his fingers lightly over the smooth, clean-shaved outer lips. My Mom gasped and let out a soft moan through her lips:
“mmmmmmmmmmm”
Her hips shifted under his touch, Ass trembling lightly, waist arching, breasts heaving with every caress. Naresh’s fingers explored her Pussy slowly, teasing, making her Pussy tighten and asshole quiver slightly.
My Mom leaned closer to Naresh, her lips parting in soft gasps, breasts pressing into his chest, hips shifting instinctively, and a long moan escaped her lips:
“mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm mmmmmmmmmmmmmm mmmmmmmmmmmm mmmmmmmmmm”


Rajan inserted his middle finger inside, feeling her Pussy tighten around his middle finger.
At the same time, his left hand cupped her chin, tilting her head slightly and began kissing my mom’s lips passionately, tongues brushing softly. My Mom gasped, a soft moan escaping her parted lips:
“mmmmmmmmmmm”
Her hips shifted instinctively, Pussy tightening around his finger, asshole quivering lightly, Ass trembling. Her breasts heaved with every movement, waist arching as she pressed herself closer, fingers clutching at his shoulders.
Naresh continued the slow, deliberate motion of his finger inside her Pussy, moving with precision as he kissed her lips passionately, drawing long, trembling moans from her mouth:
“mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm mmmmmmmmmmmmmm mmmmmmmmmmmm mmmmmmmmmm”
Her hips rocked slightly with every stroke, Pussy clenching, asshole quivering, Ass pressing lightly against his hand, waist bending under the intensity. I held her hand, feeling every shiver run through her hips, Pussy, asshole, Ass, and breasts, completely absorbed by the intimate moment unfolding before me.
Rajan’s finger moved more deliberately inside My Mom’s Pussy, exploring slowly while his lips kissed hers deeply. Her breasts heaved, nipples brushing his chest, waist arching naturally, hips trembling with every motion.
My Mom gasped through parted lips, a long, trembling moan escaping:
“mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm mmmmmmmmmmmmmm mmmmmmmmmmmm mmmmmmmmmm”
Her Pussy clenched tightly around his finger, asshole quivering lightly, Ass trembling, waist bending under his touch. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer, breasts brushing his chest, and her lips kissed his again passionately.
Rajan continued, thumb rubbing softly over her clitoris while his middle finger worked inside her Pussy, teasing her. My Mom moaned again, hips rising instinctively, Pussy tightening, asshole quivering, Ass moving lightly against his hand, waist arching with the growing pleasure:
“mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm mmmmmmmmmmmmmm mmmmmmmmmmmm mmmmmmmmmm”
Her breasts heaved faster, lips parting in gasps, hips trembling, Pussy and asshole alive with sensation. I held her hand, feeling every shiver run through her hips, Pussy, asshole, Ass, and breasts, completely immersed in the raw, intimate passion between them.
My Mom’s hips began to shudder violently, Pussy clenching tightly around Naresh’s finger, asshole quivering, Ass trembling. Her breasts heaved rapidly, waist arching as pleasure built with overwhelming intensity.
Her lips parted, gasping as a long, ecstatic moan escaped:
“mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm mmmmmmmmmmmmmm mmmmmmmmmmmm mmmmmmmmmm”