My name is Thakur Chandrasingh, and I live in Bhopal. Today, I’m sharing a steamy tale that set my desires ablaze. It all began when the house next door stood empty. We were eager for new neighbors to liven up the area. Soon enough, a family moved in—Shaukat Ali, his wife Noor Bano, their son Taufeek, and daughter Razia.
The day they arrived, I was out, only learning about our new neighbors from my wife that evening. The next morning, I met Shaukat outside. He worked in Dubai and was home on a month-long break. They’d moved here from a smaller place for more space. During our chat, Taufeek, an 18-year-old strapping lad, and Razia, 16, joined us. But my curiosity was piqued by Shaukat’s wife, Noor Bano, who remained elusive that day.
Days passed, and while I occasionally spoke with Shaukat, Noor Bano stayed out of sight. My wife, however, raved about her beauty—fair skin, curvaceous figure, and an irresistible allure. Her words stoked a fire in me, imagining what it’d be like to lay eyes on such a stunning woman. Yet, three months went by, and I still hadn’t caught a glimpse of her, despite her visiting our home a few times in my absence.
Their kids, Taufeek and Razia, often came over to play with my 2-year-old daughter, Gudiya. One day, while I was lost in thought, Taufeek showed up. As he played with Gudiya, my eyes wandered to his round, firm ass. I’d never been into guys, nor had any gay inclinations, but something about his sculpted backside drew me in. I’d fucked plenty of women’s asses—my wife’s included—but never a guy’s. That day, Taufeek’s ass had me fixated.
Caught in the moment, I couldn’t resist. My hand, almost involuntarily, reached out and squeezed his butt. Expecting shock, I was stunned when he turned with a sly smile and said, “What’s up, Uncle?” That grin felt like an invitation. I teased, “Just checking out how much you’ve packed on back there.” He laughed, “Comes with being from a well-fed home!”
His cheeky response egged me on. “Don’t bulk up too much, or people might get the wrong idea,” I said. He shot back, “Let them think what they want!” I pushed further, “I’m not talking about your weight, but that swaying ass of yours!” He chuckled, “Uncle, this ass has a fan club!” I was floored. “Who’s been eyeing it?” I asked. He replied, “Once someone sees it, they can’t look away.”
This kid was bold. I jokingly said, “Show me what’s so special about it!” To my surprise, he got serious. “Not here,” he said. “Let’s go upstairs.” I led him to the attic room and sat on a chair. “Alright, show me,” I said. He hesitated, “Don’t tell anyone.” Then, he dropped his pants and underwear, revealing a 5-inch, fair cock with an exposed tip, surrounded by a bush of hair, thick thighs, and when he turned—two perfect, creamy cheeks.
I reached out and squeezed one cheek. He let out a soft “Ohh” and said, “Your touch did something to me.” I winked, “What did it do?” His smile was pure seduction. “Just… something,” he purred. I stood, pulled him close from behind, my hard cock pressing against his ass. He leaned back, resting his head on my shoulder. I ran my hands over his thighs, and he moaned, “Ohh, Uncle, you’ll kill me!”
I whispered, “Are you a slut for this?” He admitted, “Yeah, I am.” Curious, I asked, “How’d you get into this?” He said, “My uncle Shakeel got me hooked four years ago.” I laughed, “So you’ve been taking it up the ass for years?” He corrected, “Not just taking it—I’m owning it.”
Grinning, I called him, “You little whore!” He moaned, “Ohh, my master, don’t call me such sweet names!” I asked, “Will you suck my cock?” He replied, “It’d be an honor. It’s been days since I had my vitamin dose!” I yanked down my shorts and underwear. He dropped to his knees, grabbed my cock, peeled back the foreskin, and locked eyes with me as he took the tip into his mouth.
It was my first time having a guy suck me off—not a woman, not a trans person, but a young stud. He swirled his tongue around the head, savoring it like candy. “Like the taste?” I asked. He nodded eagerly. I sat back, and he knelt between my legs, stroking my thighs while sucking. I growled, “You little ass-slut, ready to get fucked?” He purred, “Absolutely, my master, but let me worship this gorgeous cock first!”
He sucked with skill, better than my wife, who’s a pro at it. I closed my eyes, lost in the pleasure as he made my cock rock-hard. Unable to hold back, I said, “I need to fuck your ass.” He got on all fours on the floor. “Not like that,” I said, grabbing old sheets from a cupboard and spreading them out. I laid him face-down, stripped fully, and straddled his waist.
I spit on his hole and my cock, rubbing it in. “Ready?” I asked. “Yes, Uncle, shove it in,” he begged. With a gentle push, my tip slid in easily—no pain for him. More spit, and I worked half my cock inside. He didn’t wince; instead, he raised his ass, urging me deeper. I thought, This slut can take it. I stopped lubing and went in dry, but he loved it, moaning, “Ohh… ahh…”
I buried all 7 inches inside him, my pubes brushing his cheeks. His ass was tight yet slick inside, gripping me perfectly. I asked, “How’d you become such a slut?” He said, “Shakeel uncle started it. His cock’s as hard as yours. Four years ago, he spoiled me with gifts, got me drunk, and I woke up with a sore ass. He was naked beside me. I cried at first, but days later, he fucked me awake with oil. It hurt less, felt good. He turned me into his personal whore, fucking me every few days, teaching me to suck cock and swallow cum.”
I asked, “You’ll drink mine too?” He said, “I love it now. Without it, it feels incomplete.” I pounded his ass hard. When I was close, I pulled out, shoved my cock in his mouth, and unloaded. He gulped every drop, licking my shaft clean. Fucking his ass was a thrill like no other. After that, I craved it constantly, even skipping sex with my wife to save energy for Taufeek. Her blowjobs couldn’t compare to the rush of cumming in his mouth.
One day, Taufeek suggested, “Come to my place for English tutoring. It’ll give us a chance to meet.” I agreed. I started going daily, but Noor Bano remained a mystery, sending delicious snacks but staying behind a veil. I pestered Taufeek about her, and he confirmed she was stunning. One day, I demanded, “I need to see her.” He said, “She doesn’t show herself, but I’ll arrange it.”
One afternoon, he took me to his attic room. We stood by the window, and I saw her below—washing clothes, her fair skin glowing, pink lips, sultry eyes, and a voluptuous body. I was mesmerized. As I watched her, I groped Taufeek. I told him, “I want to fuck your mom. Make it happen, or we’re done.” He protested, “Not my mom!” I snapped, “Then find another uncle.”
He pleaded, “Don’t end this. I’ll figure something out.” Days later, during tutoring, he said, “Mom’s bringing tea today.” Noor Bano walked in, a vision of beauty—flawless face, rosy cheeks, and massive tits straining her blouse. She stayed briefly, but her swaying ass as she left had me stroking myself. I told Taufeek, “Do something, man! If I don’t fuck her, life’s pointless!”
He said, “Relax, she’ll bring snacks daily now.” She did, and I started weaving my charm, gifting her small things. Our chats turned friendly. One day, I offered to buy her a saree. After mild refusal, she agreed. I cheekily added, “Should I get everything from head to toe?” She laughed, understanding my hint. I bought a saree, blouse, bra, and panties, tailored to her size.
I delivered them to her room, where she was watching TV. She accepted the gift with a smile. The next day, during tutoring, I asked, “Liked the gift?” She said, “It’s gorgeous.” I teased, “It’s gorgeous because you wore it. Fit okay?” She confirmed, “Perfect.” I pushed, “Even the bra and panties?” She blushed, “Yes, but why go to such trouble?”
I got flirty. “For you, I’d do anything.” She giggled, “Your taste and eye for detail are spot-on. Everything fits like it was made for me.” I said, “I wouldn’t know—you haven’t shown me!” She teased, “I’ll show you someday.” I pressed, “Why not now?” She left, and Taufeek said, “She doesn’t know how to wear a saree.” Perfect. I told him, “Keep studying. I’ll help her.”
I went downstairs. The saree lay on her bed; she’d taken the rest to the bathroom. When she emerged, my jaw dropped. A green petticoat hugged her waist, her creamy belly exposed with a deep navel, and her full breasts spilled from a low-cut blouse. She saw me and covered her chest, sitting on a stool. I said, “I’ve never seen such beauty.” She blushed. I added, “I came to ask if I could dress you myself.”
She stayed silent. I asked, “Can I drape the saree?” She nodded, standing up. I started wrapping it, my hands brushing her soft waist. She closed her eyes, trembling. I draped it carefully, placing the pallu over her shoulder. She admired herself in the mirror, and I seized the moment, pulling her into my arms from behind. Our hearts pounded. I held her hands, and she intertwined her fingers with mine—an unspoken agreement.
I kissed her ear, whispering, “I love you, Noor.” She smiled. I turned her face, kissing her forehead, eyes, cheeks, and lips. Her lower lip was juicy, and I sucked it hard. Her hot breath hit my cheek. I slid a hand to her breast—soft, velvety. She moaned, “Ohh,” and sucked my upper lip. Her breathing quickened. I turned her, crushing her in my arms. She kissed me back fiercely, our lips locked in a frenzy.
I kissed her face, leaving red marks. Her neck, then her cleavage—my tongue traced between her breasts. She gasped, “Ohh, Chandr, you’ll kill me!” I said, “I’d die for you, not kill you.” She laughed, “Then what’s the wait?” I threw her on the bed, stripping her—blouse, bra, petticoat, panties—until she was naked. I shed my clothes, my 7-inch cock standing proud. She stared, hungry.
Her body was a vision—milky skin, shaved pussy, perfect grooming. I said, “Noor, you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve seen, and so well-kept.” She replied, “My husband hates even a single stray hair.” I climbed over her, my cock brushing her navel. She spread her legs, and I positioned myself between her thighs, my tip teasing her pussy lips.
I rubbed her clit with my cock, and she moaned, “Ohh… ahh…” She grabbed my face, pleading, “Don’t tease me—fuck me now!” She guided my cock to her wet, pink pussy. It slid in like silk. I fucked her slowly, squeezing her tits, kissing her lips. She groaned, “Enough slow shit, Chandr. Fuck me hard!” I ramped up, pounding her with “thap-thap” sounds. Her pussy gushed, and she screamed, “Ohh… ahh… God, save me… I’m dying!”
She held her toes, legs spread wide, letting me drill deeper. Her moans filled the room, like she wanted the whole neighborhood to know she was getting fucked. I switched positions—doggy, missionary, sideways—fucking her relentlessly for 20 minutes. She came multiple times, her body shaking. Taufeek walked in, saw his mom in doggy, smirked, and left. I slammed harder, unloading streams of cum into her pussy. She grinned, satisfied. I collapsed, breathless.
She brought me almond milk, saying, “Drink this, recharge.” I teased, “Wasn’t that enough?” She said, “Plenty, but I want more rounds like this.” I promised, “I can fuck you all night.” She replied, “Then we’ll have a proper wedding night soon.” I left after tutoring, my mind reeling.
Two months later, my wife complains I neglect her. But with Noor and Taufeek pulling me into their beds, where’s the energy for her? What did you think of my wild tale? Drop your thoughts below!