Adultery My Mom Loves To Get Fucked By My Dad's Colleague

[Mahendra_]

This is a real incident that happened about two weeks ago. At the time, my dad (49) had gone back to our hometown to handle some property matters, while I was busy researching colleges for admission.

My mom is 39 years old, around 5'4" tall, with a curvy figure — especially her large breasts and round, prominent ass that easily catches attention. She has a mix of conservative and modern thinking.

The story really begins the day I noticed her frequently chatting on WhatsApp. Since I know her phone password, I unlocked it while she was away and went through her messages. I was shocked to find out she had been talking for a long time with a man we call Uncle, (name hidden for privacy).

He’s a 50-year-old rich, fit, and unmarried guy. She was receiving good morning and good night texts from him almost every day. Strangely, she would often suggest to my dad that he should meet his old friend, but dad always said he was too busy.

Uncle used to compliment her a lot in the chats, and it was clear my mom was attracted to his wealth, which is why she kept responding.

The next morning, I woke up earlier than usual. Normally I get up around 7 AM, but that day I woke up at 6:30. When I came out of my room, I noticed the door to the master bedroom was locked from inside. After about 5-10 minutes, my mom stepped out.


Later, around 11 AM, I checked her phone again and saw that she had sent him her nudes at his request.

[Asli lund]

Mummy ki mast thukayi karwana live vete ke samne

[Raj_Rohan]

Really awesome story..
Please us Ai clips.
Waiting for next update

[Mahendra_]

Update coming tonight

[Asli lund]

Update coming tonight

Intezar

[Mahendra_]

Chapter 2: The Fire Spreads


My Mom And Dad





The rest of that day was a blur. I tried to focus on college brochures and admission deadlines, but every time I closed my eyes I saw those pictures — Mom’s heavy, round breasts spilling out of her hands, the way her nipples were already stiff, the curve of her thick ass as she twisted to show it off for him.

She had sent them right after that locked-door morning. In day time, mom also sent hm images of her in her bedroom wearing red beautiful saree.






I kept wondering what had happened in there for those ten minutes. Had she been on a video call with him? Touching herself while he watched? The thought made my stomach twist and my cock throb at the same time.

I checked her phone twice more before dinner. The chat had exploded.

Uncle: “Fuck, those tits are perfect. Send me a video next time, baby. I want to see them bounce while you play with them.”

Mom: “You’re so naughty ? My husband never says things like that. He’s too busy with his stupid property stuff.”

Uncle: “That’s why you need a real man. A man who knows how to worship a body like yours. When’s the next time he’s gone for more than a day?”

Mom: “He’s coming back in a week… but my son is home right now. He’s always around, researching colleges or whatever. We have to be careful.”

Uncle: “Careful is boring. Send me something right now. I’m hard just thinking about you.”

She did. Another set of photos — this time she was in the bathroom, door locked, wearing nothing but a towel that was slipping off one shoulder.

One picture showed her pulling the towel down completely, her big tits on full display, the other showed her bending over the sink, that fat, round ass pushed out, the deep cleft between her cheeks visible. The caption she typed: “Wish these were your hands instead of mine.”

I had to sit down. My own mom — the same woman who still nagged me about eating vegetables and doing my laundry — was sending nudes to a 50-year-old rich guy while my dad was out of town. And she was loving it.

That night she went to bed early again. “Long day,” she said, not meeting my eyes. She locked the master bedroom door like she had that morning. He se

I waited ten minutes, then crept to the door and pressed my ear against it.

Her voice was soft at first, giggly. “No, he’s in his room… he won’t hear.” Then Uncle’s deeper voice came through the phone speaker — I couldn’t make out every word, but I heard enough.

“Take those clothes off for me, baby. Let me see that pretty pussy.”









A pause. Then the unmistakable sound of fabric rustling. A soft moan. I couldn't see inside. But I saw mom stand at some point recording herself while removing her clothes. Then the wind made the curtains block my view.

I could no longer see inside mom's bedroom.

“Fuck, look at you. Spread those legs wider. Play with your clit while I stroke my cock.”

I think my  mom was having video sex chat with Uncle whom I still don't know who he is or he looks like.

Mom’s breathing changed — quick, shallow, then deeper. Little gasps turned into quiet whimpers. “Mmm… it feels so good when you tell me what to do… my husband never talks to me like this.”

“Faster, baby. Imagine it’s my tongue. Imagine I’m right there between those thick thighs, eating that wet pussy while your son sleeps down the hall.”

She moaned louder — not loud enough for me to hear from my room, but loud enough from right outside the door. I could picture it perfectly: Mom on her back, legs spread wide, one hand between her thighs, the other holding the phone so Uncle could watch her fingers slide in and out of her.

Those big tits heaving, nipples hard, that round ass lifting off the bed every time she pushed her fingers deeper.

Her moans got faster, more desperate. “I’m close… oh god, I’m so close…”

“Come for me, baby. Come for your real man.”

She let out a long, broken whimper that sounded almost like a sob of pleasure. Then silence, except for her heavy breathing.

I stood there with my cock painfully hard, listening to her whisper “Thank you… I needed that so bad” before she hung up.

A minute later the shower started. When she came out twenty minutes later, her cheeks were still flushed, hair damp, wearing a loose nightie that did nothing to hide how her nipples were still poking through the thin fabric.

She walked past me in the hallway like nothing had happened, but I saw the satisfied little smile on her face.



Chapter 3: The Return – Hidden Flames Ignite



It had been nearly ten days since those late-night video calls that left my mom, her name is Kajal, walking around the house with that secret, satisfied glow every morning. I, Jagdesh – or Jaggy, as she always called me in her soft, affectionate voice – was supposed to be buried in college brochures and admission forms.

Instead, my mind replayed every detail I had spied: the nudes she sent, the way her curvy body moved on camera for him, the wet sounds and desperate moans from behind her locked bedroom door.

I still didn’t know exactly how it had all begun, but I was starting to piece it together from the old messages I had read.

My mom, Kajal, was 39 years old, barely 5'4" tall, but her figure was the kind that made men turn their heads on the street. She had a classic hourglass shape – full, heavy breasts that always seemed to strain against whatever blouse or kurti she wore, a soft but toned waist that flared dramatically into wide hips and that round, prominent ass.

It jiggled with every step she took, especially in the tight saree or the occasional modern jeans she wore at home. Her skin was smooth and fair, with long black hair she usually kept in a loose bun or ponytail.

She had a mix of conservative thinking – she still touched elders’ feet during festivals, cooked traditional meals, and dressed modestly when we had guests – but there was a modern, adventurous streak in her that had clearly been awakened by the attention she was getting.

Dad was often too busy with his property deals and business trips to notice how lonely she felt.

My dad, Rahul, was 49 – a hardworking, slightly man with a serious face and a habit of checking his phone every five minutes. He loved us, but his job kept him away for weeks at a time. That was probably the opening the other man needed.

Dad had gone to our ancestral village for some old property dispute involving our grandfather’s land.

The local officials were being difficult, so Dad called an old college friend who had become a successful local businessman and had connections at the municipal office.

That man was Mr. Anil – 50 years old, rich from real estate and construction, unmarried, and apparently very smooth with words. They reconnected after years. At first the messages were innocent: “Rahul bhai, send me the papers, I’ll handle it.”

Then Anil started asking about the family. Dad sent a recent family photo. Anil replied privately to Mom (somehow getting her number): “Kajal ji, you look even more beautiful than I remember from the wedding photos Rahul showed years ago.”

Mom, feeling flattered after months of Dad ignoring her, replied shyly at first. The compliments grew bolder – “That smile could light up any room… Rahul is a very lucky man.”

Late-night chats turned into “How do you stay so fit with two grown men in the house?” Then came the first risky photo – Mom in a nightie, just a little cleavage showing.

Anil sent back praise and a photo of himself shirtless at the gym. It snowballed from there: more nudes, voice notes, then the video calls I had overheard. Mom was hooked on the excitement, the wealth, the way he made her feel desired again. Dad’s long absences and distracted nature gave her the perfect excuse.

I didn’t know any of this for sure until Dad came back.

It was a hot Tuesday afternoon when Dad’s taxi pulled up. I was in my room pretending to fill out an application form when I heard Mom’s excited voice from the living room.

“Rahul! You’re back early! How was the village? Did everything get sorted?”

Dad’s tired but happy voice answered. “Mostly, Kajal. The papers are almost done, thanks to Anil bhai. I invited him over for tea this evening. He’s been a huge help – old friend from college, you know. We can thank him properly.”

My heart skipped. Anil. The same man whose cock Mom had been fantasizing about on video calls.

The same man who had told her “our day is coming soon.” I felt a mix of anger, fear, and that shameful throb in my pants. I knew – I just knew – that today might be the day things crossed a line Mom had been teasing toward for weeks.

Dad came into my room, gave me a quick hug. “Jaggy, beta, how’s the college search? Don’t spend all day on the laptop.”

Mom followed, calling me “Jaggy” in that sweet voice, her cheeks still flushed from the excitement of Dad’s return.

She was wearing a simple green cotton saree with a matching blouse – conservative enough, but the way the pallu dbangd over her heavy breasts and the tight petticoat hugged her round ass made my mouth dry. She looked happy, but her eyes kept darting to her phone on the table.

An hour later, the doorbell rang. Dad opened it with a big smile. “Anil bhai! Come in, come in!”

I stepped out of my room and got my first real look at Mr. Anil.

He was 50, about 5'10", with a noticeable pot belly that stretched the front of his crisp white shirt. The belly wasn’t huge, but it was soft and round from years of rich food and business lunches, hanging slightly over his belt.

His shoulders were still broad, arms thick with some muscle underneath, and his legs looked strong in tailored black trousers. He had a thick salt-and-pepper mustache, receding hairline with combed-over strands, gold-rimmed glasses, and a heavy gold chain around his neck.

A shiny Rolex on his wrist and expensive leather shoes completed the rich, confident look. He smelled of strong sandalwood aftershave mixed with cigarette smoke.

When he smiled, it was wide and charming, the kind that made people trust him instantly.

“Rahul bhai! Kajal ji! And this must be Jagdesh – or Jaggy, as your mother calls you?”

He laughed heartily, shaking Dad’s hand, then giving Mom a respectful but lingering namaste that let his eyes drop straight to her cleavage for a split second. Mom blushed and touched his feet quickly – traditional gesture – but her fingers brushed his ankle longer than necessary.

They moved to the living room. Dad sat on the big sofa, Anil next to him. Mom went to the kitchen and came back with a tray of steaming masala chai, fresh samosas, and biscuits.






The way she walked – that round ass swaying side to side under the saree – made Anil’s eyes follow every step. I sat on the side chair, pretending to scroll my phone but watching everything.

The first subtle incident happened right away. Mom bent forward to pour tea into Anil’s cup.

Her pallu slipped just enough to show the deep valley between her large breasts.

Anil’s gaze locked on it for three full seconds. When she straightened, their eyes met. She bit her lower lip – that same nervous-excited habit I had seen during her video calls. Dad was busy adding sugar to his own cup and didn’t notice.

Conversation flowed easily at first.

Dad: “Anil bhai, I can’t thank you enough. Those municipal officers were giving me such a hard time with the registry. One phone call from you and everything moved.”

Anil: “Arre wah, what are old friends for, Rahul? Besides, it gave me a chance to reconnect with the family. Kajal ji, your tea is even better than I remembered from the wedding. Sweet, just like your nature.” He took a long sip, eyes never leaving Mom’s face.

Mom smiled shyly, cheeks pink. “Anil ji, you’re too kind. I just follow the same recipe my mother taught me.” Then mom went back to the kitchen to get somethiing. As she walked, I saw Mr. Anil gazing at my mom's round ass shaking.





I was so angry this man is enjoying the view of my mom. Later she came back and they continued talking.

Anil leaned back, pot belly rising and falling. “And look at you – still glowing after all these years. Rahul is a very lucky man to have such a beautiful and capable wife. The way you manage the house while he’s away… truly admirable.”

Dad chuckled proudly. “Yes, Kajal keeps everything running smoothly. I’m blessed.”

Mom’s eyes flicked to Anil again. Another glance – this one longer, filled with heat.

She passed the biscuit plate to him, leaning close so her heavy breast brushed his shoulder “accidentally.” Anil’s hand came up to steady the plate, fingers lingering on her wrist for a moment. Dad was checking a message on his phone and missed it completely.

Second incident: Mom stood to get more hot water from the kitchen. As she turned, her round ass was directly in Anil’s line of sight.

He shifted in his chair, adjusting his trousers obviously.

When she came back and bent to refill his cup, Anil’s foot under the low table gently nudged her ankle. She didn’t pull away. Instead, she pressed back slightly for two seconds before moving. Dad was talking about rising property prices and didn’t see a thing.

Third incident: While talking about old college cricket matches, Mom dropped a spoon. She bent down right in front of Anil to pick it up. Her saree tightened across that prominent ass, the fabric riding up just enough to show the curve of her cheeks.

Anil stared openly, licking his lips. When she stood, he gave her a small, private smile that made her ears turn red. Dad laughed at some joke Anil made about their college principal and missed the entire exchange.

The conversations continued for nearly forty minutes. They talked about the village – how the mango trees were still the same, how land prices had doubled, how Anil’s construction company was expanding.

Anil kept slipping in compliments: “Kajal ji, you must come visit the site sometime. I’ll show you the new luxury apartments we’re building. A woman with your taste would appreciate the design.”

Mom replied, “Maybe one day, Anil ji. Rahul is always so busy.” Dad nodded, completely trusting. “Yes, take her sometime, Anil bhai. She deserves a break.”

I watched Mom’s body language – the way she kept crossing and uncrossing her legs, the slight flush on her neck, the way her nipples had started to poke against the thin blouse. She was aroused. And I knew exactly why.

Then Dad’s phone rang loudly. “Hello? Yes, the lawyer… wait, the signal is bad here. I need to step outside.”

He stood up, still talking, and walked out to the small front porch where the network was better. We could see him pacing through the big living-room window, gesturing with one hand.

The moment Dad’s back was turned, Mom looked straight at Anil and gave a tiny, urgent nod toward the kitchen.

Her eyes said everything. Anil’s pot belly shifted as he stood quickly. “I’ll just wash my hands, Rahul bhai – be right back,” he called out casually, but Dad was too deep in the call to reply.

They moved fast but tried to look normal.

Mom led the way into the kitchen, her round ass bouncing.

Anil followed close, his eyes glued to it. I stayed in the living room pretending to watch TV, but my heart was hammering. I knew what was coming. This was the moment I had been dreading and secretly craving for days.

In the kitchen, the door was only half-closed. The window above the sink looked straight out to the porch where Dad was still on the phone, his back mostly to the house. Mom spun around the second they were inside.

Anil grabbed her waist, pulled her hard against his pot belly, and kissed her deeply.







Their mouths opened immediately – tongues sliding, wet sounds filling the small space.

Mom moaned softly into his mouth, her hands gripping his shirt. Anil’s hands went straight to her ass, squeezing the round cheeks hard through the saree, pulling her tighter so she could feel his growing erection against her stomach.

“Anil… we can’t… not here…” Mom whispered breathlessly when they broke for air, but her body was pressing into him.

Anil’s voice was low and urgent. “I’ve been waiting weeks for this, Kajal. On your knees. Suck my cock right now.”

Mom’s eyes widened, but she glanced at the window. Dad was still visible, talking loudly. “Jaggy is upstairs… Rahul is right there on the phone! It’s too risky – my son could come down any second, and if my husband turns around…”

Anil kissed her neck, biting lightly. “That’s what makes it exciting, baby. Remember how we started? Those first late-night messages after Rahul asked me to fix the papers? You were so shy at first, then you sent that picture of your tits… now look at you, wet and ready in your own kitchen.”

Mom shivered, her large breasts heaving against his chest. “Yes, but… Jaggy calls me every morning from his room. If he hears anything…”

Anil’s hand slipped under her pallu, cupping one heavy breast and pinching the nipple through the blouse.

“He won’t. I can see Rahul clearly from this window – he’s facing the road, still arguing about the registry fees. We have at least five minutes. Now be a good girl and suck it.”

*Mom hesitated one more second, then dropped to her knees on the cool kitchen floor. Her hands trembled as she unbuckled Anil’s belt, unzipped his trousers, and pulled them down along with his underwear.
The thing that shocked me is that he also removed his shirt and vest, I didn't understand why he is getting naked in out kitchen this filthy man.*

His thick cock sprang free – already half-hard, veined, with a fat head glistening with precum. The pot belly hung over it slightly, but the shaft was impressive, longer and thicker than I had imagined from the chats.

She wrapped her soft hand around the base and stroked slowly from root to tip. “It’s so big… bigger than…” She didn’t finish the sentence, but I knew what she meant.







Anil groaned quietly. “That’s it, baby. Stroke it just like that. Now put it in your mouth.”

Mom leaned forward and took the head between her lips, swirling her tongue around the sensitive ridge.

She bobbed her head slowly at first, taking more each time, her cheeks hollowing as she sucked. Saliva started to drip down her chin onto her blouse. One hand stroked the shaft while the other cupped his heavy balls.

Anil’s fingers tangled in her hair. “Yes… deeper, Kajal. Take it like you practiced on video for me. Fuck, your mouth is perfect.”

Mom pulled off for a second, breathing hard, strings of spit connecting her lips to his cock. “We have to be fast… if Jaggy comes for water or if Rahul finishes the call…”

Anil glanced at the window. “He’s still talking – something about trust and papers. He just said ‘I trust Anil like my own brother.’ Can you believe that irony while his wife has my cock in her mouth?”

Mom giggled naughtily despite the risk, then took him back in, sucking harder, her head moving faster.

The wet, sloppy sounds filled the kitchen. She gagged softly when he hit the back of her throat but kept going, eyes watering but determined.

Anil kept talking in a low growl.

“That’s my good girl. Suck it like you mean it. I’ve been dreaming of this since the first nude you sent. Remember? You were in the bathroom, door locked, sending me pictures while Rahul was asleep in the next room.”

Mom moaned around his cock, the vibration making him twitch. She pulled off again briefly.


I continued watching from behind the kitchen entrance. They didn't even know I was watching them.





“It started so innocently… just chatting about the property… then you said I looked sexy in the family photo… I couldn’t stop replying. Now I’m here on my knees in my own kitchen with my husband ten feet away.”

Anil thrust gently into her mouth.

“And you love every second of the danger. Our day is coming soon, Kajal – the day we don’t have to hide. The day I fuck this tight pussy properly, all night, while Rahul is away on another trip. You’ll scream my name without worrying about Jaggy hearing.”

Mom’s eyes fluttered at the words “our day.”

I wondered what exactly they meant – probably the full sex they had been building toward.

She sucked harder, one hand pumping the base, the other reaching down to rub herself through the saree. Her round ass wiggled on the floor as she got more turned on.

At that exact same moment, a complementary incident happened outside. Dad’s voice got louder through the open window – “What? The fees increased again? I told you Anil bhai is handling it!”

He turned slightly, now facing more toward the house, but still on the call, pacing.

Mom froze for a second, cock halfway in her mouth, eyes wide with panic. Anil whispered urgently, “Don’t stop – he can’t see inside from that angle. Keep sucking, baby. He’s distracted by the money talk.”

Mom obeyed, bobbing faster, her big breasts bouncing with the movement. Spit ran down her chin onto her blouse, making dark wet spots over her nipples. Anil’s pot belly jiggled slightly above her head as he rocked his hips.

“Fuck, I’m close,” Anil groaned. “Swallow it all, Kajal. Don’t waste a drop.”

Mom took him as deep as she could, throat working, and he came with a low grunt – thick spurts filling her mouth.

She swallowed most of it, some leaking from the corners of her lips.

She kept sucking gently through his orgasm, milking every drop, then licked him clean before tucking him back into his trousers with shaking hands.

They both stood quickly. Mom wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, adjusted her pallu and blouse, fixed her hair bun.

Anil zipped up, smoothed his shirt over his pot belly, and gave her one last hard kiss, groping her ass again. “Soon, baby. Real soon.”

They walked back into the living room just as Dad finished his call and came inside, none the wiser.

“Everything okay?” Dad asked, sitting down again.

“Perfect,” Anil said smoothly, patting his stomach. “Kajal ji was just explaining the new modular kitchen setup. Very impressive.”

Mom sat beside Dad on the sofa, legs crossed demurely, but I could see the slight tremble in her hands as she picked up her tea cup.

Her lips looked a little swollen. She avoided my eyes completely.

Dad smiled, completely oblivious.

“Good. Now, after we finish this tea, Anil bhai needs some important documents from the municipal office for the final registry. Kajal, why don’t you accompany him? You know all the shortcuts and the officers there from last time.”

Mom’s face lit up instantly – too eagerly. “Of course, Rahul. I’m happy to help. Let me just freshen up quickly.”

I watched her stand and walk to the bedroom, that round ass swaying with extra confidence now. My mind raced. Why did Dad trust Anil so much? Probably because the man had “saved” the entire property deal with one phone call and acted like a perfect gentleman in front of him.

Dad saw an old friend who was helpful, rich, and respectful – not the man who had just emptied his load down his wife’s throat in the kitchen five minutes earlier.

But I knew better. From everything I had seen and heard, they were planning something bigger.

“Their day” was clearly the day Mom would let Anil fuck her properly – no more hiding, no more quick blowjobs in the kitchen. Mom had been too happy to agree to go with him alone. She was practically glowing.

I made my decision right then.

As soon as they left, I would follow them. I had to know what they were going to do. I slipped quietly to my room, grabbed my phone and keys, and waited by the window.

Ten minutes later, Mom came out in a fresh light pink salwar suit – the dupatta dbangd loosely, the tight kameez hugging her large breasts and the saree showing off the curve of her ass.

She looked freshly made-up, lips glossy, eyes sparkling. Anil stood up, his pot belly shifting under the shirt.

“Ready, Kajal ji?”

“Ready, Anil ji,” she replied with a smile that was just a little too bright.

Dad waved from the sofa. “Take care, both of you. Anil once more thank you very much, and Kajal, my love, please don't talk a lot and don't disturb Anil” Both three of them laughed.






The second their car pulled out of the driveway – a sleek black SUV with tinted windows – I grabbed my helmet, started my old scooter, and followed at a safe distance.


I knew exactly why I was doing this: because I had seen too much already.

The nudes, the locked doors, the kitchen blowjob.

I couldn’t let them disappear without knowing what “their day” really meant or what they would do the moment they were truly alone.

Anger burned in my chest, but underneath it was that same shameful excitement that had kept me spying for weeks.

They drove toward the municipal office area, but I noticed Anil take a slight detour onto a quieter road lined with trees. Mom was in the passenger seat, and even from behind I could see her turn toward him, laughing at something he said.

At a red light, I pulled up two cars back and saw Anil’s hand casually rest on her thigh, squeezing. She didn’t move it away. Instead, she placed her hand over his.

My grip tightened on the scooter handles.

This was it. They weren’t going straight to any office.

They were heading somewhere private – maybe a guesthouse or a secluded spot Anil knew.

The same man with the pot belly who had just used my mom’s mouth while my dad was ten feet away was now taking her somewhere to continue what they started.

I stayed back, following the black SUV as it turned onto a narrower lane.

My mind kept replaying the kitchen scene – Mom on her knees, saliva dripping, the wet sounds, the way she swallowed every drop while Dad bragged about trusting Anil “like a brother.” And now they were alone again, with hours before Dad would even start worrying.

Whatever “their day” was, it felt dangerously close.

I kept following, adrenaline and anger and unwanted arousal mixing in my veins, knowing that whatever happened next would change everything in our family forever.






Comment below what you think happened!

[Little finger]

Super update bro. Public sex please

[Ragasiyananban]

Great start

[Wasifahim]

mast update

[Uvaaaa]

Great start please update soon

[joyeity]

Nice. Keep it up bro

[Mahendra_]

Thank you friends, update coming soon

[royarnab26]

Make son watch live show without their knowledge.

[exbiixossip2]

hi bro...
\
mast story hai

ai se or pics generate karo..

iske sath kajal











inme se kisi ke sath oldman ko generate karo images

[exbiixossip2]

next update bro..

[Raj_Rohan]

Make son watch live show without their knowledge.

Agree, I think they gonna have best f-ck ever