[prasannas2001]

Eagerly waiting for your update Prasanna Ji

Thank you so much for waiting, I am going to give the updates shortly.

[prasannas2001]

Hi All

I am going to start giving the update soon. Please stay tuned.

[prasannas2001]

The silence in the room was thick, heavy, a warm blanket woven from their ragged breaths and the fading echoes of their shared ecstasy.

Rohan lay on his back, his body spent but buzzing with a profound, deep-seated satisfaction.

Mamta was a warm weight beside him, her head on his chest, her arm dbangd possessively over his stomach.

The darkness had been their world, a sensory-deprived cocoon where touch, sound, and taste had reigned supreme.

He had memorized the feel of her, the dip of her waist, the swell of her hips, the incredible softness of her breasts, the tight, wet heat of her pussy.

He had built an image of her in his mind, a masterpiece constructed from sensation alone.

Then, the world shattered.

A soft click, followed by a sudden, blinding flood of light.

Rohan flinched, squeezing his eyes shut against the assault.

It was too much, too sudden.

The darkness had been a gentle lover, and the light was a violent intruder.

He heard Mamta stir, felt her lift herself from his chest.

He kept his eyes closed, trying to adjust, trying to cling to the last vestiges of their shadowed paradise.

"Rohan," her voice was different in the light.

Softer, perhaps, more vulnerable.

"Look at me."

Slowly, reluctantly, he opened his eyes.

The world swam into focus, hazy at first, then sharpening into painful clarity.

And there she was.

The image his mind had constructed was a crude sketch, a child's drawing compared to the living, breathing masterpiece before him.

[prasannas2001]

Mamata was kneeling on the bed beside him, her body bathed in the soft, warm glow of the light in the bed room.

The light caught in the dark silk of her hair, which fell in a disheveled cascade around her shoulders.

Her skin, which he had imagined as smooth and warm, was luminous.

It wasn't a uniform color, but a palette of creams and pinks, flushed with the rosy hue of their exertion.

A delicate sheen of sweat glistened on her collarbones, making them look like polished bone.

Her eyes, dark and deep, framed by long lashes. Her nose, small and delicate. Her lips, full and soft, slightly parted. Her skin, smooth and flawless, glowing in the warm light.

"You're beautiful," he whispered. "Every part of you."

His eyes moved to her neck, long and elegant, the pulse beating steadily at the base. He leaned down and kissed it, feeling her shiver.

"Your neck," he murmured. "I kissed it in the dark. But now I can see how beautiful it is."

His eyes moved to her shoulders, smooth and rounded, leading to arms that were slender and graceful.

"Your shoulders," he said. "I felt them in the dark. But now I can see how perfectly they're shaped."

His gaze traveled down, and his breath caught in his throat.

Her breasts...

God, her breasts.



Her breasts are full and heavy, the nipples dark against her pale skin. They rose and fell with her breathing, inviting his touch.

"Your breasts," he breathed. "I touched them in the dark. I tasted them. But now, now I can see how perfect they are."

He cupped them gently, his thumbs tracing her nipples. She gasped.

"So beautiful," he murmured. "So perfect."

He had held them, felt their weight and softness, but seeing them was a revelation.

[prasannas2001]

Her Breasts were fuller than anything he can imagine, perfect teardrops that sagged just a little to be real, crowned with areolas the color of dusky rose.

Her nipples, which he had rolled and pinched, were proud, hard, tight buds, still erect from their recent passion.

They seemed to beg for his mouth, his hands, his attention.

His eyes moved to her stomach, flat and toned, the skin soft and smooth. He kissed it, feeling her muscles tighten beneath his lips. Looking at the gentle curve of her stomach, no one can believe that she gave birth to a beautiful girl. Mamta’s stomach, completely like her own daughter’s stomach. No extra fat in her.

"Your stomach," he said. "I kissed it in the dark. But now I can see how beautiful it is."

The soft swell of her belly that led down to the dark triangle of hair between her legs.

He had felt her wetness, her heat, but seeing the source of that intoxicating nectar was something else entirely.

Her legs were long and shapely, one bent at the knee, the other stretched out along the length of the bed.

He saw the faint marks on her hips where his fingers had gripped her, a temporary brand of his possession.

He owned her, she is completely his. He enjoyed every inch of this marvelous beauty. He could not take his eyes from this eternal beauty, he just claimed. All this beauty is his. All of it.

She was watching him, her dark eyes unreadable, a flicker of apprehension in their depths.

She was letting him see her, truly see her, in all her naked, post-coital glory.

It was an act of courage, an act of trust that was more profound than anything they had done in the dark.

"You're..." he started, but the words wouldn't come.

[prasannas2001]

How could he describe her? Beautiful was too small, too inadequate.

"You're the most incredible thing I've ever seen. I still cannot believe all of this is mine. And I can do anything with you"

A slow, shy smile spread across her face, transforming it.

It was the first time he had seen her smile like this, without the teasing, confident mask she had worn in the dark.

This smile was genuine, a little hesitant, and utterly breathtaking.

"You're not so bad yourself, you know. And yes, you I am all yours Rohan. You can do anything with all this beauty."

He looked down at himself, at his own body.

He saw the defined muscles of his chest and stomach, now sheened with sweat.

He saw his own cock, soft and glistening with their combined fluids, resting against his thigh.

He had always been comfortable in his own skin, but under her gaze, he felt a new self-awareness, a prickle of self-consciousness mixed with a surge of masculine pride.

She leaned down, her hair falling around his face, and kissed him.

It was a different kind of kiss than the ones they had shared in the dark.

Those had been hungry, desperate, almost violent in their intensity.

This one was soft, tender, exploring.

Her lips were soft and full, her tongue a gentle probe that met his, danced with it, retreated.

It was a kiss of discovery, of confirmation.

When she pulled back, her eyes were shining.

"Now you know," she whispered.

"Now I know," he repeated, his voice husky.

She settled back beside him, but not to rest.

Her hand began to move, a slow, deliberate exploration of his chest.

Her fingers traced the lines of his muscles, followed the trail of hair that led down from his navel.

It was a possessive gesture, a silent claiming.

He watched her hand, watched the way her fingers caressed his skin, and he felt the familiar stirrings of arousal begin again, a slow, deep ache in his groin.

Her touch was knowing, confident.

[prasannas2001]

Mamta had explored his body in the dark, but now, with sight to guide her, her touch was infinitely more precise, more erotic.

Her fingers circled his nipples, which tightened instantly.

She leaned down, her tongue darting out to lick one, then the other.

The wet heat of her mouth, combined with the visual stimulus of her lips closing around his bud, sent a jolt straight to his cock.

He was hardening rapidly, his flesh swelling, lengthening, rising from his thigh until it lay against his stomach, thick and rigid with renewed need.

Mamta saw it, her eyes darkening with a renewed hunger.

She shifted, her body moving over his, her hair creating a silken curtain around them as she bent her head to his chest.

Her lips and tongue continued their assault, tasting his sweat, his skin.

She kissed a path down his stomach, her teeth nipping gently at the hard ridges of his abdomen.

His hands, which had been lying limp at his sides, came up to tangle in her hair again.

He guided her, not forcefully, but with a gentle pressure, encouraging her descent.

She understood his silent plea.

Her lips moved lower, bypassing his straining cock for a moment to kiss his inner thighs.

He could feel her hot breath against his balls, and he groaned, his hips lifting off the bed.

She was teasing him, drawing out the anticipation, making him ache for her touch.

Finally, her attention turned to his erection.

She wrapped her hand around the base, her fingers barely meeting around his thick girth.

He watched, mesmerized, as she lowered her head.

He saw her tongue dart out, saw it make contact with the sensitive head of his cock.

The sight was almost as electrifying as the sensation.

She swirled her tongue around the crown, collecting the bead of pre-cum that had gathered there, her eyes never leaving his.

Then she took him into her mouth.

[prasannas2001]

Rohan watched his thick shaft disappear between her soft wet lips, saw the way her mouth stretched to accommodate him.

In the dark, it had been a wet, velvety mystery.

In the light, it was the most erotic thing he had ever seen.

He could see the hollowing of her cheeks as she sucked, could see the way her lips, slick and swollen, glided up and down his length.

She took him deeper than before, her confidence bolstered by the light, by his obvious pleasure.

He felt the head of his cock hit the back of her throat, and she paused, swallowing around him.

The constriction, the sight of her nose buried in his pubic hair, was almost enough to make him lose control.

"Mamta," he warned, his voice tight.

"I want to be inside you. This time while looking at your beauty with my eyes."

She pulled back, releasing him with a wet pop. His cock missed the wet vacuum, her mouth created, he missed her tongue moving around the head of his cock.

A string of saliva connected her lips to the head of his cock before breaking.

She looked up at him, her eyes dark with lust, her lips swollen and red.

"I want that too," she said, her voice a husky purr.

She moved, her body flowing with a grace that was both athletic and feminine.

She straddled his hips, her knees on either side of his waist.

He reached up, his hands finding her breasts again.

This time, he could see them, see the way his fingers sank into the soft flesh, see the way her nipples pebbled at his touch. See the way how her eyes looked at him with desire.

He squeezed them, kneaded them, his thumbs brushing over the tight buds.

She arched her back, pushing her breasts into his hands, a silent invitation for more.

[prasannas2001]

Wowww. Prasanna is back


Excellent update.
Please continue

Thank you so much

[prasannas2001]

Rohan obliged, leaning up to capture one nipple in his mouth.

He sucked hard, his tongue flicking against the tight bud, his teeth grazing it gently.

She cried out, her head falling back, her hands clutching at his shoulders.

He released her nipple, his mouth moving to the other, giving it the same attention.

As he feasted on her breasts, he felt her hand move between them.



Mamta wrapped her fingers around his cock, guiding it to her entrance.

He felt the wet heat of her pussy against the sensitive head, and he groaned against her breast.

She positioned him, then began to sink down onto him.

He watched, transfixed, as his thick, hard cock slowly disappeared into her body.

He saw the way her pussy stretched, saw the way her lips gripped him.

Tight, pulling him in.

The sight was mesmerizing, a visual confirmation of the incredible tightness he had felt in the dark.

If he has not known Neetu, he would never believed that Mamta is a mom. Her body is so tight and fit.

Her body is not used much, maybe, because, her husband is far from here.

Or maybe she has been keeping her body fit.

But Mamta is no less than her own daughter, in all aspects.

Other than being a virgin, her body is as tempting as her daughter.

Rohan could see her inner folds parting to welcome him, could see the slick juices coating his shaft as he entered her.

When she had taken him to the hilt, she paused, her body trembling.

He could feel the tight, rhythmic clenching of her inner muscles, a milking sensation that was both pleasurable and torturous.

He looked up at her face, at her eyes, which were closed, her lips parted in a silent 'O' of pleasure.

[prasannas2001]

A single tear escaped from the corner of one eye, tracing a path down her flushed cheek.

"Mamta?" he asked, his voice soft with concern.

She opened her eyes, and they were shining with an emotion so raw, so intense, it took his breath away.

"I can see you," she whispered, her voice filled with awe.

"I can see you inside me. I can feel you inside me too."

And then she began to move.

It was a slow, deliberate undulation of her hips, a sensual, circular grinding that was completely different from the frantic riding of before.

This was not a race to the finish; this was a long, leisurely journey of discovery.

She was making love to him with her eyes, her body, her soul, and he was a willing, eager participant.

He watched her, mesmerized by the play of emotions on her face.

He saw the pleasure, the passion, the vulnerability, the love.

He saw the way her breasts bounced with each movement, the way her stomach muscles contracted, the way the muscles in her thighs tensed as she lifted herself up and sank back down onto his cock.

His hands roamed her body, no longer content to just hold her.

He wanted to touch her, to feel her, to memorize every inch of her with his hands, just as he was memorizing her with his eyes.

He caressed her waist, his thumbs stroking the soft skin.

He slid his hands up her back, feeling the delicate ridge of her spine.

He cupped her ass, his fingers digging into the firm flesh, pulling her tighter against him.

"Rohan," she breathed, her voice a husky whisper.

"You feel so good. So deep. You are hitting some spot deep inside, I cannot name it. It is totally new to me"

"You feel incredible too, Mamta" he replied, his voice thick with emotion.

"So tight, so wet. You're perfect. I have been dreaming for this, from the first day, I saw you."

[prasannas2001]

She leaned down, her hair falling around their faces, creating a private, intimate world.

She kissed him, a deep, slow, passionate kiss that was a perfect mirror of their lovemaking.

Her tongue explored his mouth, a slow, languid dance that promised of pleasures to come.

As they kissed, her movements became more fluid, more confident.

She began to rise and fall on his cock, a steady, rhythmic motion that was both incredibly arousing and deeply tender.

Each time she lifted herself up, he felt a moment of loss, a desperate ache to be back inside her.

Each time she sank down, he felt a surge of pure, unadulterated bliss, a feeling of coming home.

He broke the kiss, his lips moving to her neck, to the sensitive spot behind her ear.

He nibbled and sucked, tasting the salt of her skin, feeling her pulse racing beneath his lips.

She moaned, her head falling back, giving him better access.

He took advantage, his lips and tongue tracing a path down her throat, to her collarbones, to the hollow at the base of her neck.

He wanted to taste all of her, to mark her as his.

He shifted his position, sitting up, his arms wrapping around her waist, holding her close.

His cock was still buried deep inside her, and the new angle allowed him to go even deeper.

She cried out, a sharp, guttural cry of pleasure.

He lowered his head, his mouth finding her breasts.

He took one nipple into his mouth, sucking hard, his tongue flicking against the tight bud.

He rolled the other nipple between his thumb and forefinger, pinching it gently, pulling it.

The dual stimulation was overwhelming.

She began to move faster, her hips grinding against his, her body writhing in his arms.

He could feel her orgasm building, a slow, steady rise of tension that was mirrored in his own body.

Her movements became more frantic, more desperate.

[prasannas2001]

Mamta was riding him hard now, her body bouncing, her breasts slapping against his chest.

The sounds of their lovemaking filled the room, a raw, primal symphony of pleasure.

"I'm close," she gasped, her voice a high, keening cry.

"So close, Rohan. Don't stop. Please don't stop."

"I don’t stop… Never… You let go, darling" he urged, his voice a low, guttural growl.

"Come for me, Mamta… I want to see you come…"

His words were the final catalyst.

With a scream that was pure, unadulterated ecstasy, she came.

Her body convulsed, her inner muscles clamping down on him in a series of powerful, rhythmic spasms.

He watched her face, saw the raw, unfiltered pleasure, the complete and total surrender.

It was the most beautiful, the most erotic thing he had ever seen.

He held her through it, his arms wrapped around her, his body still, letting her ride the waves of her pleasure.

He could feel her trembling, the aftershocks rippling through her, her body completely spent, completely surrendered to him.

When the convulsions finally subsided, she collapsed against him, her head buried in his shoulder, her body limp.

He held her close, his cock still buried deep inside her, his own release still a distant, throbbing ache.

After a long moment, she stirred, lifting her head to look at him.

Her eyes were soft, hazy with the aftermath of her orgasm.

A slow, satisfied smile spread across her face.

"Your turn," she whispered.

She began to move again, a slow, deliberate rocking of her hips that was designed to push him over the edge.

She was tight, so tight, and her inner muscles were still fluttering with the aftershocks of her orgasm.

The combination was exquisite, a sweet, torturous pleasure that was almost too much to bear.

[prasannas2001]

Rohan felt the tension building in his groin, a familiar, coiling sensation that signaled his impending release.

He tried to hold back, to prolong the pleasure, but it was a losing battle.

She was too good, too tight, too wet, too perfect.

"Mamta," he groaned, his voice a strained, desperate plea.

"I'm going to come."

"Yes… Come for me," she urged, her movements becoming more forceful, more demanding.

"I want to feel you come deep inside of my womb. I want to see you come."

That was all it took.

With a guttural roar, he came, his body arching against hers, his seed flooding her, marking her as his.

It was a powerful, explosive release, a culmination of all the pent-up desire, all the raw, primal need.

He emptied himself way deep into her pussy, his body shuddering with the intensity of his orgasm.

He collapsed back against the bed, his body spent, his mind reeling.

Mamta collapsed on top of him, her body a warm, welcome weight.

They lay like that for a long time, their bodies entwined, their hearts beating in unison, lost in the aftermath of their shared passion.

He stroked her hair, his fingers combing through the silken strands.

He looked at her, at her face, which was flushed and beautiful, at her body, which was glistening with sweat, and he felt a surge of love so powerful, so overwhelming, it almost brought him to tears.

"Mamta," he said, his voice soft, reverent.

"I love you."

She lifted her head, her eyes shining with unshed tears.

"I love you too," she whispered, her voice choked with emotion.

"So much."

She leaned down and kissed him, a soft, tender kiss that was a promise of a future, a testament to a love that was as real, as tangible, as the light that now filled the room.

And as they kissed, he knew that this was just the beginning, that their journey together was going to be a long, beautiful, and incredibly passionate one.

Mamta nestled against him, her head on his chest. The light glowed around them, warm and golden, illuminating the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. She closed her eyes, recollecting every moment they had.

Mine, he thought. Completely mine. Every inch of her.

Rohan pulled his phone from the bed table next to him slowly.

He opened the chat with Anjali. He wants to let her know, what he just had. His achievement.

Rohan: It's done. Completely done. She's completely mine.

Anjali: Tell me everything.

Rohan: Tomorrow. I'll tell you everything tomorrow. How this I claimed this hot mom of our cute little Neetu

He set the phone down and looked at Mamta, sleeping peacefully beside him. She does not know his plans. She does not her own daughter was his first girl.

He looked at her one more time.

Perfect. Absolutely perfect.

[prasannas2001]

The morning came too soon.

Grey light filtered through the curtains, the only light in the house besides the bedroom lamp that had burned all night.

Rohan lay on his back, Mamta curled against his side, her head on his chest.

He didn't want to move.

He didn't want to leave.

But he knew he had to.

Mamta stirred. "What time is it?"

"Early. Maybe six."

She sat up slowly, her hair falling around her shoulders. The light caught her skin, making her glow.

"Neetu will be home soon," she said. "She stayed at your house last night. She'll come back this morning."

"I know."

"She can't, she can't know about this. Not like this."

"I understand."

Mamta looked at him, her eyes searching his face. "Do you?"

"I do. This is ours. Just ours."

She nodded slowly. "I'm sorry. I don't want you to go."

"I don't want to leave."

"But you have to."

"Yes. I know. I hope, the day comes when I can stay here, like this, even when Neetu comes home."

She leaned down and kissed him, soft and slow, full of promise.

"I cannot imagine that day will every come. That is too dangerous. But last night was, " She paused. "I don't have words."

"Neither do I."

"I've never felt like that before. I've never felt so, "

"Alive?"

"Yes." She smiled. "Alive."

He cupped her face. "You are alive. You've always been alive. You just forgot."

"I won't forget again."

"I don’t let you forget. I make you feel even more lively."

She kissed him again. "You need to get dressed. Neetu will be home soon."

He nodded. He stood and began to gather his clothes.

She watched him, her eyes moving over his body, her expression soft and full of something he couldn't quite name.

[prasannas2001]

"Rohan?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you. For last night. For everything."

He walked back to her and kissed her forehead. "Thank you. For trusting me. For giving me everything you have."

"I gave you more than my body. I gave you my heart."

"I know." He cupped her face. "And I'll take care of it. I promise."

She smiled, that beautiful, vulnerable smile. "I know you will."

He finished dressing and walked to the door.

She followed him, wearing only her saree, her hair still loose.

At the door, he turned back.

"I'll text you," he said.

"I'll be waiting."

"I will text you tonight."

"Tonight."

He kissed her one last time, deep and slow, full of everything he couldn't say.

"See you, Mamta darling."

"See you, Rohan."

He walked out into the morning light. The street was quiet. The world was still waking up.

Mamta didn’t move, she just stood at the door, watching him go. She was still wearing only her saree, her body still warm from his touch.

She touched her lips, remembering his kiss.

He loves me. He really loves me.

She smiled, a smile she hadn't worn in years.

And I love him. I love him so much.

She closed the door and walked back inside, the silence of the house wrapping around her like a blanket.

Last night had been everything she'd ever dreamed of. Everything she'd ever wanted. And more.

I'll never forget last night. Never.

She walked to the bedroom and looked at the bed, the rumpled sheets, the pillows still holding the shape of their bodies.





Rohan pulled out his phone and texted Anjali.

Rohan: I'm on my way home.

Anjali: How was it?

Rohan: Perfect. She was perfect.

Anjali: Tell me everything.

Rohan: When I get home. I'll tell you everything.

Rohan: What is Neetu doing?

Anjali: She is still sleeping.

Rohan: That is what I want. Keep her sleeping, when I get home. I want her in the bed.

He pocketed the phone and walked toward his bike, the memory of her body still warm against his skin.

He is excited to get to Neetu now.
It will be exciting to enter into Neetu’s hot, tight and wet pussy.

Neetu does not know that I had just claimed her mother, made her completely mine.

Now I am going to get into her pussy. Warm and welcoming just like her mom.

I'll never have enough of her. Nor enough of her mom. Never.

[prasannas2001]

Fantastic

Thank you so much