She pushed the door shut with her hip and turned to face him, sweat still glistening on her neck from the kitchen heat. "You been staring at these tits all morning, boy?" she said, voice low and rough. Her sari was already half-unraveled, the thin cloth clinging to heavy breasts and the soft swell of her belly. He didn't answer with words. He grabbed her by the waist, spun her around, and yanked the fabric down so her dark nipples sprang free.
"Fuck yes," he growled, mouth latching onto one nipple, sucking hard while his hand shoved between her thighs. She was already wet, the thin cotton of her panties soaked through. He tore them aside and sank two fingers straight into her cunt, pumping them deep and fast. She moaned loud, hips bucking against his hand. "That's it, son. Finger your amma's pussy like you mean it."
He pulled his fingers out, shoved them in her mouth so she could taste herself, then spun her to the counter.
Her ass was thick and round, perfect for gripping. He freed his cock, already leaking, and rubbed the fat head up and down her slit. "Beg for it," he ordered.
"Put it in me," she hissed. "Fuck your mother's cunt. Do it now."
He slammed home in one thrust, burying every inch inside her tight heat. She cried out, walls clenching around him. He didn't go slow. He fucked her hard, skin slapping, the counter rattling with every thrust. Her tits bounced, sweat dripping down her back. He reached around, found her clit, and rubbed it rough while he pounded her.
"Harder," she demanded. "Make it hurt. Fill me up."
He pulled out, flipped her onto the table, and spread her legs wide. Her pussy was red and swollen, juices running down her ass. He drove back in, deeper this time, balls slapping against her. She grabbed her own tits, pinching the nipples while he railed her. The room filled with wet sounds and her filthy moans.
"Look at you," he grunted. "Amma taking her son's cock like a whore."
She came first, cunt pulsing, legs shaking, screaming his name. He kept thrusting through it, then pulled out and sprayed thick ropes across her belly and tits. She rubbed it into her skin, then sucked his cock clean, tongue swirling over every inch.
They didn't stop there. She dragged him to the bedroom, pushed him onto the bed, and climbed on top. She sank down on his still-hard cock, riding him slow at first, then grinding her clit against him until she came again. He flipped her onto all fours and took her from behind, pulling her hair, slapping her ass until it reddened.
"More," she begged. "Don't stop fucking me."
By the time they finished, the sheets were soaked, her body marked with his hands and teeth, his cum leaking from her well-used pussy. She pulled him close, kissed him deep, and whispered, "Tomorrow we do it again. Harder."
He smiled against her mouth. "Yes, amma."
