Priya had always been the quiet, proper Indian mother in their middle-class Mumbai apartment, but the moment her son's friend Rahul walked in that humid afternoon, everything changed. At nineteen, Rahul was tall, muscular from cricket, and cocky as hell. Her own son was away at college for the weekend, leaving the flat empty except for the two of them. Priya, forty-two, still had the full curves of a woman whod given birth youngthick hips, heavy breasts that strained her cotton saree, and a round ass that swayed when she walked.
Aunty, can I wait here till he comes back? Rahul asked, eyes already dropping to her cleavage as she bent to pour water.
Priya felt the heat between her legs instantly. Of course, beta. Make yourself comfortable.
She knew she should have sent him away, but the loneliness after her husbands long work trips had been eating at her. Rahul didnt waste time. He followed her into the kitchen, standing close enough that she could smell his sweat and cheap cologne.
His hand brushed her waist as he reached for a glass.
Aunty, youre looking so hot today, he said, voice low and direct. That saree is barely hiding those big tits.
Priyas breath caught, but she didnt pull away. Rahul you shouldnt talk like that.
He grabbed her ass hard through the thin fabric, squeezing the soft flesh. But you want it. I can see it in your eyes. Your sons friend is going to fuck you right here.
She moaned despite herself. Within seconds Rahul had her saree pulled down, exposing her heavy brown breasts. He sucked a dark nipple into his mouth, biting just enough to make her gasp, while his fingers yanked her petticoat open and shoved straight into her wet pussy.
Fuck, aunty, youre dripping already, he growled, pumping two fingers deep. Been thinking about your sons friend pounding this married cunt, havent you?
Priyas head fell back against the fridge. Yes god, yes. Dont stop.
He spun her around, bent her over the counter, and freed his thick cock. It slapped against her asslong, veined, and rock-hard. Rahul didnt tease. He slammed inside her in one rough thrust, stretching her tight walls wide. Priya cried out, gripping the marble as he started pounding her from behind, the wet slap of skin echoing through the kitchen.
Take it, you dirty mom, he grunted, one hand fisting her hair, the other slapping her jiggling ass. Your sons friend is balls-deep in your pussy. Tell me how good it feels.
So fucking good, she panted, pushing back to meet every thrust. Harder. Fuck me harder.
Rahul obliged, railing her relentlessly until her juices ran down her thighs. He pulled out only to flip her onto the kitchen table, spread her legs, and drive back in. Her breasts bounced with every brutal stroke. He leaned down and sucked her nipples again while his cock hammered her G-spot.
Priya came first, screaming his name, her pussy clenching around him. Rahul didnt slow down. He fucked her through the orgasm, then pulled out and shoved his cock into her mouth. She sucked greedily, tasting her own cream on his shaft, until he groaned and flooded her throat with thick ropes of cum.
They didnt stop there. Rahul carried her to the bedroom, laid her on the bed she shared with her husband, and took her again missionary this time, legs over his shoulders, cock pounding so deep she felt it in her belly. He talked filthy the whole time, calling her a slutty mom who needed her sons friends dick.
By evening Priya was on all fours again, ass up, while Rahul fucked her from behind and fingered her asshole. She begged him to cum inside her this time, and he did, pumping her full until it leaked out around his shaft.
When they finally collapsed, sweaty and satisfied, Rahul grinned. Next weekend when your son is gone again, Im coming back. And next time Im fucking that ass too.
Priya smiled, already aching for more. Her secret with her sons friend had only just begun.
