I never meant to hit play on that file. It was just another USB drive in my drawer, labeled in neat Hindi script. But the moment the voices started, low and urgent in that familiar accent, my cock got hard so fast it hurt.
"Maa… please, don't stop," my cousin Rahul's voice whispered through the speakers. The audio was raw, recorded on a cheap phone, every breath and wet slap of skin crystal clear. Then came my aunt's reply, her Hindi thick with lust. "Beta, your cock feels so big inside me. Fuck your mother harder."
I sat there in the dark, headphones on, stroking myself as the recording played. Rahul groaned, the bed creaking under them. "Your pussy is so wet, Maa. Tighter than any girl I've fucked." She moaned back, the sound filthy and direct. "Yes, fill me up. Shoot your seed deep where it belongs."
The audio went on for nearly twenty minutes. I could hear everything: the slap of his balls against her ass, her heavy tits bouncing, the way she begged him to call her "Maa" while he pounded her. My hand moved faster, matching his rhythm. When she came, screaming his name in Hindi, I exploded all over my fist, thick ropes splattering my stomach.
I played it again the next night. And the night after. Each time I got dirtier with it, imagining myself in the room, watching my aunt spread her legs for her own son. On the fourth listen I came without touching myself, just from the sound of her begging for his cum.
By the fifth night I couldn't take it anymore. I called my aunt. "I found the recording," I told her in Hindi, voice shaking. She went quiet, then laughed softly. "Come over tonight. Bring your own phone. We'll make a new one."
I drove straight there. She opened the door in a thin nightie, nipples already hard. Rahul was on the couch, stroking himself. "Join us," she said, pulling me inside. "But first, start recording."
The new audio began with her voice, clear and filthy. "My nephew is here now. Watch how I suck both my boys." She dropped to her knees, taking turns between our cocks, slurping loudly for the microphone. Rahul and I groaned together as she deep-throated us, spit running down her chin.
When she bent over the table, she looked back at me. "Fuck your aunt first. Let the recording hear how wet I am for family cock." I slammed into her, the wet sound obscene. Rahul moved in front, feeding his dick into her mouth. She moaned around him while I pounded her from behind, calling her "Maa" just like in the original tape.
We switched positions all night. She rode Rahul while I fucked her mouth. Then she had us both inside her at once, one in her pussy, one in her ass, screaming in Hindi as we stretched her. The phone picked up every slap, every wet squelch, every filthy word.
By morning the new file was longer than the first. We lay tangled on the bed, sweaty and spent, listening back to our own voices. My aunt smiled, pressing play again. "Next time we add your sister," she said. "Make it a real family recording."
I was already hard again.
