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My name’s Sarika, a 45-year-old housewife with a banging 36-28-42 figure, rocking a 34DD bra. I’m 5 feet 5 inches tall, fair-skinned, and look younger than my age. My husband, Varun’s dad, is way older than me and always buried in his business, barely noticing me. We’re a loaded family, living in a posh Nagpur area. This story is about me and my son, Varun. He’s 21, 5 feet 10 inches tall, fair, with a slightly muscular body, deep brown eyes, and a face that makes people stare.
Varun used to stick around at home, but he had to move to Nagpur for a year-long course. Since we’ve got money, we decided to rent a small one-room flat for him to focus on his studies. It had a tiny kitchen and bathroom, no bed, just a mattress on the floor. I told Varun, “Beta, I’ll come every Saturday and Sunday to see you, stock up your food, and cook for you. A boy will cook for you during the week.”
Varun grinned, “Cool, Mom!”
Truth is, I didn’t want him too far from me. I worried about him. My husband didn’t care; he’s always busy with his deals, so he easily let me go to Nagpur. The heat there was insane, like living in an oven. We got a small cooler, but it was useless. When I visited, I’d chill in just a petticoat and blouse, or sometimes a gown with nothing underneath. The heat made clothes unbearable.
Over time, Varun and I got super close. He loved my visits. We’d hang out, shop, watch movies. When I was there, he stuck by me, never going anywhere else. Our bond got so tight that I’d change sarees or clothes in front of him. I thought, he’s my son, what’s the big deal? But his eyes started saying something else—a hungry look I hadn’t noticed before.
When I cooked in the cramped kitchen, more like a narrow passage, Varun would find excuses to come close. He’d brush against me, his hand grazing my waist or shoulder. I ignored it, but it stirred something in me. His touches weren’t innocent anymore.
One Saturday afternoon, the heat was killing. I said, “Varun, it’s too damn hot. I’m gonna take a shower.”
He was sprawled on the mattress, scrolling his phone. “Go for it, Mom,” he said.
It was around 2:30 PM. In the shower, I thought, I change in front of him anyway, so why not stay in a towel? The heat was unbearable. I dried off with one towel, wrapped a thin, see-through one around my body, and walked out. My wet hair dripped, and the towel barely hid my boobs—my nipples were visible. I was wiping my hair when I caught Varun staring, his eyes dripping with lust.
Suddenly, he got up, walked over, and grabbed me tight. I gasped, “Ouch! Varun, what the hell? Let me go!”
But he didn’t listen. He slammed his lips on mine, kissing me hard, his tongue forcing its way into my mouth. I pushed against him, “Stop it, Varun! I’m your mom, this is wrong!”
He gripped my waist tighter, whispering, “Just for a bit, Mom… you look so fucking hot.”
My towel slipped off, leaving me stark naked. I didn’t even notice when he shucked his shorts and underwear. His thick, 7-inch cock stood hard in front of me, throbbing. I wanted to stop him, but my body betrayed me—a heat was building in my pussy.
Varun grabbed me, positioned his cock at my pussy lips, and pushed in. “Ahh!” I moaned as his thick dick stretched me. He started fucking me standing up, the sound of “thap-thap-thap” filling the room. “Varun… no… this is wrong… ahh!” I protested, but my body was responding, my pussy getting wetter with every thrust.
He grabbed my big tits, squeezing them hard, sucking and biting my nipples. “Fuck, Mom, your boobs are so juicy!” he growled. I whimpered, “Not so hard, beta… you’ll leave marks!”
But he was lost in lust, pounding my pussy, his cock sliding in and out. “Ahh… ohh… Varun… slow down… ahh!” I moaned, torn between guilt and pleasure. My pussy was dripping now, loving every thrust.
Then he said, “Let’s go to the bathroom, Mom.” Without pulling out, he dragged me to the shower, turned it on, and cold water poured over us. He pinned me against the wall, fucking me harder. “Thap-thap-thap” echoed as his cock slammed into my pussy. I grabbed the shower rod, my hands above my head, my tits bouncing wildly. “Ahh… Varun… fuck… slow down… ahh!” I screamed, but he didn’t stop.
He spotted a small stool in the bathroom, grabbed it, and lifted my leg onto it. My pussy opened wider, and he rammed his cock in deeper. “Ahh… you’re gonna rip my pussy… ohh!” I moaned, the mix of pain and pleasure driving me crazy. He fucked me for 15 minutes straight, my pussy soaking, my moans loud, “Ahh… ohh… fuck… Varun!”
Suddenly, he gripped me tight and stopped. I felt his hot cum flood my pussy, filling me up. “Ahh… Varun… ohh…” I moaned as we stood there, panting, soaked in water and sweat. We finally pulled apart.
At 6 PM, Varun said, “Mom, let’s go out.” We went shopping, watched a movie, ate dinner, and got back around 12:15 AM. We didn’t talk about what happened. My mind was a mess—guilt, shame, but also a twisted thrill.
I took a shower, the cold water doing nothing to cool the heat in my body. I lay on the mattress, naked under a thin sheet. The kitchen light was on, the rest off. Varun showered and came out in a towel. He looked at me, I looked at him. He saw the sheet and knew I was naked.
He dropped his towel, his thick cock hard again, swinging in front of me. He turned off the kitchen light, plunging the room into darkness, and slid under my sheet. Before I could react, his finger was in my pussy, rubbing my clit. “Ahh…” I moaned. He squeezed my tits, sucked my nipples, and whispered, “Mom, your pussy’s so fucking wet… you’re so hot.”
After a while, he flipped me over. My ass was facing him. He shoved a pillow under my stomach, lifting my ass higher. I knew what was coming. He spit on my asshole, rubbing it with his finger to make it slick. Then he pressed his cockhead against my tight hole and shoved hard. Half his cock sank into my ass. “Ahh… Varun… no… it hurts!” I screamed.
But he didn’t stop. He fucked my ass like an animal, the “thap-thap-thap” sounds filling the room. He shoved one hand in my pussy, another in my mouth, muffling my screams. “Fuck, Mom, your ass is so tight… so good!” he growled. “Ahh… Varun… my ass… slow down… ahh!” I begged, but the pain was mixing with a weird pleasure.
He fucked my ass for 15 minutes, then shot his cum deep inside. “Ahh… ohh…” I moaned. That night, he fucked my ass three times, each time more savage than the last. I was screaming, “Ahh… Varun… stop… ahh!” but my body craved it.
By morning, I could barely move. My pussy and ass were sore, and I limped till noon. Before dropping me at the station, Varun fucked my pussy again. He laid me on the mattress, spread my legs, and rammed his cock in. “Ahh… Varun… slow… ahh!” I moaned as he pounded me, filling my pussy with cum again.
Now, I can’t wait for Saturdays. I crave going to Varun, getting my ass and pussy fucked. I always start with my ass—it’s become my favorite.
What do you think—am I wrong, or is this just part of our life? Drop your thoughts in the comments.