“Who’s this”? She called out.
“It’s me Mom” came her son Deen’s voice.
Partly relieved but still alarmed she draped her saree quickly around herself. Now she didn’t have to worry about perfection in attire since it was only Deen. Yet the fact that she had allowed the grocer to fuck her just s a little while ago coupled with the freshly fucked feeling still coating her senses made the housewife a wee bit guilty. She managed to wear the saree quickly enough but couldn’t prevent the wetness around her crotch to once again form a sticky patch out in front. She opened the door to let Deen in. He said that his afternoon classes were cancelled and he had no mood to go to the library.
Walking in, Deen looked quizzically at his Mom. She looked different. Her hair was disheveled and her saree looked rumpled in a peculiar manner. Her scanty blouse was wet with sweat. If it wasn’t for the glow on her face, he would have presumed that she was sweating from her kitchen work. As she walked towards the couch in the living room, he noticed the languid movements of her hips and the slow roll of her hips. The sway was slower but sexier. It was an indescribable sight but she looked different. Suddenly he noticed the damp patch around her crotch on the transparent saree. It looked so provocative, just below her rich bush. Manya noticed where her son was looking, but it was too late to amend things. In a bid to make the atmosphere more casual, she spread her thighs out and tried to relax on the couch. Her posture became rather lewd for her teenaged son and he began to experience the familiar stirring in his loins which looking at his sexy mother for more than a minute always produced. At this stage Manya asked her son to take a bath so that they could lunch together. Deen proceeded rather thankfully to the bathroom, glad that he could hide his arousal.
Manya was still lying in that obscene pose on the couch when she heard the main door open slightly. She had forgotten to lock it after Deen’s arrival. It opened wider and in came the grocer. She panicked and hissed at him to go away, pointing at the bathroom where her son was bathing. But he had not come to leave. Not long after he left Manya, he began to reminisce over the morning’s astounding developments, especially the ease with which he could enter Manya’s hot pussy. Soon his thoughts led to a bursting hard on and he felt the time was still convenient enough for another go at the gorgeous piece of ass, which would be doing nothing else but masturbating away anyway, according to him. So off he rushed to get his pussy.
When he neared her, Manya whispered frantically to him that her son was around. Not giving a damn, he motioned for her to turn over, unzipping his trousers in the same motion. Strangely, Manya felt herself obeying him, while she was still gesticulating towards the bathroom door where Deen was. With strong and silent efficiency, he once again gripped her voluptuous hips and shook her like a doll. Manya’s body throbbed with renewed lust and her pussy started dripping in record time. The risk in the situation was obscured by the heat of his manhood pressing against her already naked ass. He had merely hiked her saree up and thrust his dick right into her willing and wet cunt. The pumping began instantaneously and her cunt muscles started clasping his dick in greed, milking it to new heights of passion. She could still hear the shower and so could the grocer.