I live in Maharashtra with my family—just me, my dad, and my mom. My mom, Shobhana, is 43 now, but she’s always been crazy about looking hot and sexy. She’s fair, with a killer figure—full boobs, slim waist, and a round, juicy ass that looks amazing in her sarees. Her skin is so fair, it’s like she glows from head to toe, enough to make any guy’s head turn. I’m 26 now, but when I was 18, finishing 10th and starting polytechnic, my mom was in her prime at 35. She was a total bombshell, and her bold, flirty way of talking made me wonder what was going on in her head sometimes.
Back when I was 16 or 17, I had this feeling she’d already hooked up with a bunch of smart, good-looking guys. She’d chat up my friends when they came over, throwing around dirty words like it was nothing. “What’s up these days? Scored any girls? Done any batting or bowling?” she’d say with a smirk, talking about sex like it was casual banter. I’d be like, “Mom, what the hell?” But as I got older, I started talking to her just as openly. She’d tell me to call my friends over, especially when Dad was at work and my sister was at college. I’d be out playing cricket, and I could tell she loved the chance to flirt with my buddies. It was like she had this wild side she didn’t bother hiding.
Now, let me get to the main story. After 10th, I joined polytechnic, and that’s where I met Bunty, my friend. He’d walk with me to college after lunch break since it was close to my house. I noticed my mom eyeing him like he was a snack. Bunty was a stud—tall, fair, handsome, and he knew it. He’d bragged to me about banging a couple of girls and even some older women, including a classmate’s mom, up in the hills on his bike. Guy was experienced, no doubt. For 2-3 months, I saw Mom staring at him, and I started thinking she had a thing for him.
One day, I straight-up asked her, “Mom, what do you think of Bunty?” She got flustered and said, “What? Nothing like that!” But I wasn’t buying it. I told her, “I’ve seen how you look at him. Bunty says he’s had affairs, takes girls to the hills on his bike.” Her face lit up, like she was already imagining it. I added, “He’s a cool guy, right?” She jumped on it, saying, “Yeah, tell him to come over sometime.” I knew exactly what she was thinking.
I talked to Bunty about it. At first, he was shocked, like, “Sachin, you’re talking about your mom like that? Have some shame, man!” But I told him, “It’s not me, it’s what she wants.” He went quiet for 10 minutes, but I could see him grinning, like he’d hit the jackpot. Finally, he agreed. I told Mom, and she said, “Good, bring him over in 10 minutes.”
It was Diwali vacation time. Dad, who works as a laborer, had gone back to work after lunch. My sister’s college was in the afternoon, and the neighborhood was empty since everyone had gone to their villages. The factory across the street was shut for 15 days. Only polytechnic and college were still on. Bunty came to pick me up after lunch break, and I thought, “This is it—perfect chance!” I told him, “Bunty, Mom’s got some personal work for you, but don’t tell anyone.” He asked, “What work?” I said, “She wants you at home. Dad’s at work, no one’s around.” He got the hint but hesitated, saying, “Bro, you’re crazy!” I convinced him it was Mom’s wish, not mine, and he finally said yes.
We stopped by a medical store to grab condoms first. Then Bunty went inside the house while I stayed outside. Mom had spread a mattress on the floor, and the door was slightly ajar. After 5 minutes, I couldn’t resist—I had to see what was happening. I pushed the door open and peeked in. Mom was lying on the mattress, her saree pulled up to her waist. Bunty had pushed her bra up, and he was squeezing her big, fair boobs hard. Mom saw me and yelled, “Sachin, get out!” But I didn’t budge. Bunty was sucking her nipples like a wild dog, biting them till she screamed, “Uhh… ohhh… maaa!” He was kissing her hard to shut her up. I stood there, watching, my heart racing. Mom kept telling me to leave, but I could tell she was loving every second of it.
Bunty was losing control now. Mom told me, “Sachin, cover your face with the blanket and lie down.” I did, but the blanket had a small hole, and I watched through it. Bunty picked her up and pinned her against the wall. He was kissing her neck and lips like a hungry animal. Mom started responding, thinking I wasn’t watching. He lifted her saree higher and slid his fingers into her pussy. She moaned, “Ohhh… Bunty… slow… uhhh!” He didn’t listen. He ducked under her saree and started licking her pussy, sucking and biting it like he was starving. Mom’s legs were shaking, and she was moaning louder, “Uhhh… maaa… Bunty… stop… ohhh… you dog!” Her hips were moving, and she was gripping the wall for support. This went on for a good 20 minutes, her moans echoing in the room.
Mom couldn’t take it anymore. She screamed, “Bunty, fuck me now… don’t tease me!” He laid her back on the mattress, pulled her saree up completely, and yanked her petticoat down. Her fair pussy was glistening, ready for him. Bunty dropped his pants, revealing a thick, 7-inch cock, slightly curved. He put a pillow under her hips to lift her pussy, slipped on a condom, and rubbed oil on his fingers. He smeared it all over her pussy, making it slick. Mom was moaning, “Ohhh… Bunty… put it in… uhhh!” He positioned his cock at her entrance and thrust hard. Mom screamed, “Ohhh maaa… you’re killing me… slow, you bastard!” Tears rolled down her cheeks. Bunty pulled out, added more oil, and slid in slowly this time. Her pussy was dripping with oil now.
He started thrusting, slow at first, then harder. The room filled with the wet “slap-slap” sound of her pussy getting pounded. Mom’s boobs bounced with every thrust, her saree bunched around her waist. She was moaning nonstop, “Uhhh… ohhh… Bunty… fuck me harder… tear my pussy!” Bunty grabbed her boobs, pinching her nipples as he rammed her. He growled, “Take my cock, you slut… I’ll rip your pussy apart!” Mom was wild now, lifting her ass to meet his thrusts, screaming, “Yes… fuck me… you dog… harder!” The oil was squirting out with every thrust, making a mess on the mattress.
For 15 minutes, Bunty fucked her in every position. First missionary, then he flipped her over for doggy style. Her ass was in the air, and he slapped it hard, leaving red marks. “Take it, you whore… show me that pussy!” he yelled. Mom was screaming, “Ohhh… uhhh… fuck my pussy… tear it, Bunty!” The “slap-slap” sounds mixed with her moans as he pounded her relentlessly. Finally, Mom came hard, her legs trembling as she screamed, “Uhhh… maaa… I’m done… ohhh!” Bunty kept going for another 5 minutes, then came inside the condom. Her pussy and ass were soaked with oil and juices, the mattress a total mess.
Bunty went to the bathroom to clean up, and Mom fixed her saree, exhausted. I was rock-hard watching it all. I ran to the toilet and jerked off, replaying the scene in my head. We went back to college, and for 2-3 days, we didn’t talk about it. Then Bunty asked, “Sachin, is your mom calling me again?” After that, it became a routine. Every time Bunty came over, Mom would drag him to her room, lock the door, and the sounds would start—moans, screams, and dirty talk like, “Fuck me harder… shove that cock in my pussy… you slut, take it!” I’d sit outside, jerking off to the noises. But now, I’m done just watching. I want to fuck my mom too.
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