Friends, I’m about to lay out a story so fucking wild it’ll leave you rock-hard and reeling. This is straight from my life, no lies, and I’ve agonized over whether to share it. Why expose my family’s dirty secrets? But keeping this shit bottled up was killing me. I couldn’t tell my buddies, so I’m unloading it here to clear my head.
I’m Sameer, 22, managing our family’s farm in the village. My older brother, 26, is in the army, stationed in Orissa. He got married four months ago, and his drop-dead gorgeous bhabhi lives with me and maa. Dad passed away years ago, so it’s just the three of us—me, bhabhi, and maa—in our simple village home.
When my brother and bhabhi tied the knot, they fucked like porn stars for a month. Every night, they’d lock their bedroom door, and while maa slept, I’d sneak to the back window to watch them go at it. Bhabhi’s fair skin, juicy 36D tits, and those filthy moans—damn, my cock would throb. I’d jerk off and crash, but I was plotting. Once my brother left, I’d fuck that tight ass. My plan? Play the perfect devar—pamper bhabhi, respect her, and get her wet for me.
That’s exactly what I did. I treated bhabhi like a queen—helped with chores, took her to the market, made her laugh. Maa loved my “care,” and my brother thought I was a godsend. He said, “Sameer, I’m not worried anymore. You’ll keep bhabhi happy. She won’t feel alone.” Everyone was singing my praises, but my dick was scheming to pound bhabhi’s pussy raw.
When my brother left for duty, I cranked up the charm. Took bhabhi to village fairs on my bike, showed her the fields, cracked dirty jokes. Those bumpy rides were a goldmine—bhabhi’s fat tits pressed against my back, her hard nipples poking through her blouse. I’d brake hard to feel her body slam into me. We got closer, and I could tell bhabhi was horny as hell. A month of getting railed by my brother had turned her into a cock-craving slut, and now, with him gone, she was desperate. She knew her sex life was screwed with his postings, so she started eyeing me like fresh meat.
One day, maa was at a neighbor’s, and I cornered bhabhi in the kitchen. She was cooking, her saree clinging to her curves like it was painted on. I slid behind her, grabbed her waist, and sucked on her neck. She gasped but didn’t push me away. Her eyes screamed “fuck me.” I yanked her pallu down, groped her tits through her blouse, and she moaned, “Sameer, this is wrong…” But her voice was pure lust. I shoved my hand under her saree, fingered her soaking pussy, and she jerked my cock till I busted a load in her hand. After that, we were addicted.
We couldn’t keep our hands off each other. Whenever maa was out, I’d fuck bhabhi like a savage. In the kitchen, I’d lift her saree, bend her over the counter, and slam my cock into her dripping cunt while she moaned like a bitch in heat. Sometimes, I’d grind my dick against her fat ass while she cooked, humping till we were both sweating and panting. Her tight pussy, bouncing tits, and dirty moans—our lives were a fucking porn flick. But maa wasn’t some old prune. At 45, she looked 35—fair, curvy, with a body that could make any man’s cock twitch. Her yoga and diet kept her tight—big, round tits, a plump ass, and a glow that screamed “fuck me.” Sometimes, I’d catch myself staring at maa, thinking, “If she wasn’t my maa…”
One night, I went to my buddy’s birthday bash and got plastered on cheap whiskey. Stumbled home at 11 PM, my cock throbbing from the booze and fantasies of bhabhi’s pussy. The house was dark—power was out. Maa and bhabhi were sleeping on the terrace to escape the heat, covered in bedsheets to dodge mosquitoes. I was too drunk to think straight, and my dick was screaming to fuck bhabhi. I climbed up, saw two figures under sheets, and couldn’t tell who was who.
I guessed the one on the left was bhabhi. I slid next to her, my cock pulsing like a jackhammer. I pulled the sheet off, hiked up her nightie, and ran my hands over her juicy ass—fuck, it was so soft and warm. I unbuttoned her nightie, grabbed her heavy tits, and squeezed hard, twisting her nipples till she squirmed. She stirred, moaning softly, and I thought, “Bhabhi’s ready to get fucked.” I lifted her leg, yanked my pants down, and rubbed my leaking cock against her ass crack. Her heat was driving me nuts. I was paranoid maa might wake up, so I kept it slow, but my drunk dick was raging.
I whispered, “Bhabhi, let’s go downstairs. I need to fuck you now.” She got up quietly, and I led the way, her trailing behind. It was so dark I couldn’t see a damn thing. In the bedroom, I shoved her onto the bed, ripped her nightie up to her waist, and tore her panties off. I spread her legs wide, spat on my cock, and rammed it into her pussy. Fuck, it was tight, wet, and hot as a furnace. I pinned her down, sucking her lips like a starving animal, and pounded her like a machine. Her tits bounced as I mauled them, pinching her nipples till she squealed.
She was moaning, “Ohh… Sameer… fuck me harder…” and thrusting her hips to meet my cock. I was drunk out of my mind, lost in her cunt’s grip. I flipped her over, made her kneel doggy-style, and slammed my dick back in, spanking her ass till it glowed red. Her pussy was slurping my cock, and her moans were straight out of a porno, “Fuck… Sameer… rip my pussy apart…” I grabbed her hair, yanked her head back, and fucked her so hard the bed groaned. I reached around, rubbed her clit, and she screamed, her cunt squeezing my dick as she came, her juices dripping down her thighs.
I wasn’t done. I pulled out, flipped her onto her back, and shoved my cock in her mouth. She sucked it like a pro, gagging as I fucked her throat, my balls slapping her chin. I pinched her nipples, slapped her tits, and she moaned around my dick, “Mmm… fuck my mouth, Sameer…” I was in heaven—booze, her wet mouth, and her slutty moans. I pulled out, spread her legs again, and fucked her missionary, hooking her legs over my shoulders to go deeper. Her pussy was a volcano, milking my cock with every thrust. I bit her neck, sucked her tits, leaving hickeys, and she clawed my back, screaming, “Harder… fuck me like a dirty whore…”
I flipped her again, this time spreading her ass cheeks. I spat on her tight asshole and teased it with my finger. “You like it dirty, huh?” I growled. She moaned, “Fuck my ass, Sameer…” I grabbed some coconut oil from the dresser, lubed her hole, and eased my cock in. Her ass was so fucking tight it hurt, but she pushed back, begging, “Fuck it harder…” I pounded her ass, spanking her cheeks till they were raw, and reached under to rub her clit. She screamed, cumming again, her ass clenching my cock like a vice.
After 20 minutes of relentless fucking, I pulled out and shoved my cock back in her pussy. I hooked her legs over my shoulders, fucking her deep, my balls slapping her ass. She was a wild animal, clawing my chest, screaming, “Fuck your maa… fill my pussy…” I pinched her nipples, slapped her tits, and fucked her till the bed shook. I leaned down, whispering, “You’re my slut now, maa,” and she moaned, “Yes, beta… fuck your slutty maa…” After 30 minutes of nonstop pounding, I couldn’t hold it. I roared, unloading a massive load in maa’s pussy, filling her up. She came too, her cunt squeezing every drop from my cock. We collapsed, sweaty and spent. I was so drunk I passed out right after.
Next morning, I woke up to maa stroking my cock, smiling like a satisfied slut. She whispered, “Beta, you’ve made your maa feel alive again. You’re my man now.” I was shy but fucking thrilled. Life changed after that. I’d fuck bhabhi when maa was out, then fuck maa when bhabhi was busy. Bhabhi found out and was pissed at first, but she came around—now both whores share my cock. My days are a blur of pussy—bhabhi’s tight cunt, maa’s experienced holes. I’m living a porn star’s life, and I’m not complaining.
Hope you loved this filthy tale. Tell me what you think.