Her eyes were half-closed, still processing the pleasure of relentless pounding her neglected pussy got.
Me: “You will die a beggar. But at least you will die as a beggar who has experienced insatiable lust and pleasure. Your purushan is dead. I am now the man of the house. In that moment of lust, I took her thali (Mangalsutra) from the pooja room, where she kept it after her husband’s death.
Me: “Tie this thali around my dick and suck it better than how you suck your purushan’s dick, I will make you my illegal wife, and you will write your property to me. Else you can order me to leave the house.”
One look at the throbbing monster with the pink tip enticing her and the foreskin pulled back was enough to make Gawthami Patti decide. She lost her sense of morality, and she knew it. She shamelessly tied it around my Lund and started to suck it like a possessed woman. She squatted and sucked my rod with one hand around my dick while her hand was furiously fingering her hairy cunt.
Suck it, Paati. Take it in your mouth, Gowthami paati. No, Vithreya, don’t call me that. Paati is a name of respect and tradition. It’s not fit for a woman like me who fell so easily into debauchery. Shhshh…I always love you, Paati; you are just enjoying what your husband failed to give you.
Gauthami: “I beg you. Aaah.. Tie this, Thali. Make me your wife—smear sindhooram (Sindhoor). Make me yours, Vithreya.. That was enough to make me lose control. Like a wild beast with no concern for her aging body, I rammed my dick deep into her sloppy black cunt. Aah..It was a pleasure to see her pink cunt lips part way to accommodate the thali. We doggy fucked for five minutes, each raw thrust of my fair Lund (dick) into her black pussy, bringing moans of pleasure and lust as her brain desperately failed to understand or accept the immorality of her act.
Me: “Thevadiya Patti, I am cumming…..I am impregnating you… Take it all.”
Warm milk sloshed through and filled her womb. Gowthami reached the crest of her pleasure, and her moans and dirty talk were so loud that I was sure that the entire slum knew of Gowthami getting banged and bred by me. I fell on top of her while we panted from the exertion and pleasure. She rested her sweaty cum stained face over my fair well-chiseled body.
Gowthami: “You are not Vithreya. You are my Purushan, Kamadevan (God of Lust).
The big day arrived. Does Gowthami regain her moral value of an orthodox Tamil granny? Or does she submit to the lust of worldly pleasures and fall into debauchery.
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