Category: Adult Story

I was amazed at how far my mom had come from being a shy, loyal, conservative housewife to a horny, submissive slut. True, she was being controlled by a perverted old man. But even a blind man could see that something inside her was stirring and she too was enjoying the perversions that she was being subjected to.When she went inside the bathroom, I could hear faint sounds of moaning inside along with the trickling sounds of the shower. She was probably fingering her excited, mature pussy after having such an intense session with the milkman. I knew she longed for a fuck, especially after some of the intense orgasms that she had thanks to the milkman's finger-fucking. If the young low-class man wanted to, he could've easily fucked her. I knew my mom wouldn't protest, given that she was enjoying his thick, manly cock inside her mouth so much so that she allowed him to cum all over her, and even drank some of it like a professional whore. But I guess he was afraid of me showing up at

After Uncle Shyam left I quickly jumped over to my balcony and went inside my room. I saw my mom coming over to my bedroom and unlocking the door. I decided to sleep for the time being, thinking that no other male was coming. Plus, I knew that after squiring so much, my mother would also be tired.I woke up late at night and went to the dinner table. As usual my mom was wearing a red color silk nighty which clung to her luscious body because of her sweat, showing her every curve. She looked tired and also a bit uneasy. Maybe she was feeling a little guilty after what happened with Uncle Shyam. While serving me dinner, I saw the outline of her huge mangoes jiggling with every movement."Babu, you don't have to wake up early tomorrow. I'll take the milk."I knew the reason but still I decided to ask, "Why mom? I could take it. What's the problem?""No problem at all. Actually, I'll be going out tomorrow so I have to wake up early. You can sleep as long as you like. I'll take the milk from

After my mom and I returned home, we saw our servant waiting for us in the living room cutting some vegetables. When he saw my mom's condition, he kept staring at her with lust-filled eyes. His hungry eyes were fixed on the side of her wet blouse that was clinging to her mature body. Also, her hair was in a severe mess and I'm sure that seeing her in such a nasty state, this low-class servant had some idea as to what she had been through. My mother then quickly went to the bathroom to have another shower. I was tired after having that immense orgasm and so I went to my room and slept off.I woke up in the afternoon when it was close to 3 pm. The reason I woke up was because I heard male voices coming from our downstairs living room. I was surprised because Haria was scheduled to finish his work by 2pm and leave. But I realized later that the male voice I heard didn't belong to Haria or even my dad. It was the voice of Shyam Uncle who had been spying on my mother this morning, when she

After that failed ejaculation attempt, I was really pissed off. I wondered what caused my mother to react in such a way. What did she see out the window? I quickly straightened myself and went to the balcony. There I saw him! It was Shyam Uncle - the same perverted old man whom my mom and I had met a few days ago during that trip to the market. To recall, he was a man in his mid-fifties, with an ugly face and rugged features. His house was directly opposite to ours and the window through which he was looking was directly opposite to my mom's dressing room window. He must've seen everything! The way mom was holding those window grills - her naked tits swaying against Haria's rhythmic squeezes and strokes - was so lewd and the "kamuk" expression on her face must've been awfully sexy. I was getting hard again while imagining this old pervert jerking off to the sight of my mother's hot luscious naked body.Meanwhile Haria having released his load was now extremely worried about my mother's

My mom was in trouble. My mom seemed quite upset after that time when she fucked with the tailor and that brute, Haripada. But I also new that deep down inside pits of her womanhood, she was writhing for more male touches. The day after that incident, Haria - our new servant - arrived at our house. Our main door was unlocked and thus, he was able to enter the house. I was in my room studying, when I heard footsteps as though someone was walking up the stairs. I quickly jumped out of my bed and saw that it was our interim servant. He was wearing a light yellowish kurta and a white dhoti. He had entered the house and walked up the stairs until he reached the second floor.Meanwhile, my mother was in the bathroom taking an early shower. I could clearly hear the water pouring from inside the washroom and my mom singing a bengali song with her sweet voice, just like a koel sings in the spring. When Haria heard that, he called out, "Didi. Didi." The volume of his voice was so low that even I

Hi, my name is Arijit Guho. I'm a 22 year old guy from Calcutta. This story is about my mom - Shikha. Shikha is a housewife. At 42 years old, she is somewhat wider on the curves, slightly fatter along her waist as expected from any bengali housewife of her age. She has a beautiful face though, she has fair skin with no marks on her face and very few marks on her body. She has protruding lips just like Angelina Jolie which accentuate her pretty face. Ours is a wealthy family. My father is a rich businessman who remains out of the city most of the time. He comes home only once or twice a month.My mother has a lovely figure - 36DD-28-40. Her boobs have not at all sagged. Despite her age, they are quite stiff and her nipples seem to poke from her blouse whenever she's at home and not wearing a bra. Her most alluring feature has to be her ass - the cheeks are plump as melons and lewdly sway like the tides whenever she moves. Her navel's quite deep and whenever she wears a saree, somehow or

My name is Raju now a 16 year old budding boy living with my mom and dad. My Elder Sister,Priya was elder to me by 8 years. She was married to a software engineer in Bangalore.It was the month of may, I was having my school vacation. Priya Sister called one day saying that her Husband received a direct order from his office in Europe. She asked mom to come and stay with her since the place where she stays is remote from the city and isolated without any neighbours nearby. Mom said she would come there the next day with me. Unfortunately my mom and dad had to go to Madurai the next day in order to attend a funeral of a close relative. Mom told him "Raju go to sister's house and stay there for three months till your vacation". Mom asked him take his school books so that he can study when it gets bored. Mom also told that she would come there next week..I took the night train to Bangalore. While on travel I remembered about my elder sister(akka). My Akka looks like Hollywood actress

I grew up in a sleepy little village of coastal India.  My name is Kamode and I was an only child of my parent.  We were not a rich family but we enjoyed a healthy lifestyle. The villagers were kind towards us and they would help us during times of distress.  We had some land for farming and we had employed a couple of people to take care of it.My dad wanted me to be educated so after the matriculation from a local school, he sent me to a city hostel.  I used to pay occasional visit to my parent but never realized that they are getting away from each other.  I was doing my graduation when I received the news that my father is marrying again.  I decided that my mother would need my support so I went immediately to my village.Although I was going to meet mom in a grim situation but it was something I was looking forward since my last visit home.  Name of my Mom was Minnoli and she was 38.  Being a house wife she was not perfect in body shape but

It is for you to decide whether I am a hero of this story or not.  Let me start from the time I was 25, and working in Dehli, away from my hometown. I was living in a shared flat and eating at cheap restaurants because of my limited pay.  One day my cousin Tarun paid me a surprise visit at my office. He was the son of my aunt Vasundra who was a real sister of my mother.  For some period of time our families were not in contact with each other.  The fact was that since becoming a widow, seven years ago, aunt Vasundra stopped meeting relatives.Tarun started by asking about well-being of my family and told me about that of his family.  About his mother he told me that she is now very religious and spend most of her time inside the house.  After supplying me with these details he came to the point proper.  He told me that he got a job in the Emirates and wanted to go there within four days.  This was a big opportunity for him and he wanted to avail

Although I am not comfortable in writing this story of mine still I want it to be known to everyone so that someone may learn a lesson from it.  I must admit that I have changed names, including mine.  I am Roshan, a 23 years old man belonging to the rural area of Gujarat (India).  I am an only child of my parents.  I was only two when my real father died.  My mom Malthi was 21 at that time.  After a year or so her relative pressed her to remarry.  She resisted initially but eventually she agreed.  The man she married was a widower and much older than her.  The only good thing was that he was a rich landlord.  Despite the re-marriage of my mom there were no more children and that was good news for me.  I remained an apple of my mom's eyes and got all the attention I needed when I was growing up.  My step-father treated me as his son and we were a happy looking family at least for the time being.After completing my early