The rain hammered against the tin roof of their small Mumbai flat like it wanted to break in.
Rajesh, twenty-two and back from college for the summer, stood in the doorway of the kitchen watching his mother, Meena, forty-five, stir the dal. Her sari clung to her heavy breasts and wide hips from the humidity, the thin cotton outlining every curve. She turned, catching his stare.
"Arre, what are you looking at like that?" she said, voice low and thick with the accent of their village. But she didn't turn away. Her eyes dropped to the bulge already pushing against his shorts.
Rajesh stepped closer. "Mom, I can't stop thinking about you. Since I came home, all I see is you."
Meena set the spoon down. The kitchen was small, the air thick. She reached out and grabbed his cock through the fabric, squeezing hard. "Then stop thinking and do something, beta. Your father is gone for the week."
He yanked her sari pallu down. Her breasts spilled out, dark nipples already stiff. He sucked one into his mouth, biting just enough to make her gasp. Meena shoved her hand inside his shorts and pulled his thick cock free, stroking it fast and rough.
"Fuck, it's bigger than I remember from when you were a boy," she growled. "Come on, put it in your mother."
They didn't make it to the bedroom. Rajesh spun her around, bent her over the kitchen counter, and hiked her sari up to her waist. She wore nothing underneath. Her ass was round and soft, the dark crease between her cheeks glistening. He spat on his cock and pushed inside her pussy in one hard thrust.
Meena moaned loud, pushing back against him. "Yes, fuck your mom like that. Harder. Make it hurt."
He pounded into her, the wet slap of skin on skin mixing with the rain. Her cunt was tight and hot, gripping him like it had been waiting years. Every thrust made her heavy tits swing and slap the counter. She reached back, spreading her ass cheeks so he could see his cock disappearing into her.
"Talk dirty to me," she demanded. "Tell me what you're doing to your mother."
"I'm fucking my mom's wet pussy," Rajesh grunted. "I'm balls deep in the woman who raised me and she loves it."
Meena came fast, her walls pulsing around him, juices running down her thighs. But she didn't let him stop. She pulled off, turned, and dropped to her knees. She took his cock straight into her mouth, sucking her own taste off him, gagging when he hit the back of her throat.
"Feed me your cum, son," she said between sucks, spit dripping from her chin. "I want to taste what I've been missing."
Rajesh held her head and fucked her mouth until he exploded, thick ropes shooting down her throat. She swallowed every drop, then licked him clean, looking up with eyes that said this was only the beginning.
Later that night the power went out. They moved to the bed by candlelight. Meena straddled him, lowering her dripping cunt onto his cock again. She rode him slow at first, then faster, her breasts bouncing in his face. He sucked her nipples while she ground her clit against him.
"Fill me up," she whispered. "Put a baby in your own mother if you want. Just don't stop fucking me."
Rajesh flipped her onto her back, spread her legs wide, and drove into her until the bed creaked. He came deep inside her, pumping load after load while she clawed his back and begged for more.
By morning the rain had stopped, but they hadn't. They fucked in the shower, against the wall, on the floor. Meena taught him every way she liked it: from behind so he could slap her ass, on top so she could control the pace, and with her legs over his shoulders so he could go deepest.
When his father called to say he would be delayed another day, Meena smiled and hung up. She turned to Rajesh, already naked again.
"Good," she said. "We have more time for mom and son sex."
