I slammed the door behind me after another long day, the house quiet except for the low hum of the fridge. Amma was in the kitchen, back turned, her sari clinging to her full hips and heavy breasts. At forty-five she still had that body that made my cock twitch every time I saw her. "Makan, you're late," she said without turning, voice low and tired.
I dropped my bag and stepped up close, pressing against her from behind. My hands went straight to her waist, fingers digging in. "Couldn't stop thinking about this," I growled, grinding my hard dick against her ass. She stiffened but didn't pull away.
"Stop it, this is wrong," she whispered, but her hips pushed back just a little. I reached around and squeezed her tits through the thin fabric, thumbs rubbing her nipples until they poked out hard. She gasped. I yanked the sari pallu down, exposing her deep cleavage and the dark areolas.
"Fuck wrong," I said, spinning her around. I shoved her against the counter and pulled the blouse open, buttons popping. Her heavy tits spilled out, soft and warm in my hands. I sucked one nipple hard, biting just enough to make her moan. Her hands went to my hair, pulling me closer even as she said, "We can't… your father…"
I dropped to my knees, hiked up her sari, and ripped her panties aside. Her pussy was already wet, thick lips glistening. I buried my face between her thighs and licked deep, tongue fucking her hole while my fingers rubbed her swollen clit. Amma's legs shook. "Oh god, makan, eat it," she hissed, grinding on my mouth. I sucked her clit and shoved two fingers inside her tight cunt, pumping fast until she came hard, juices flooding my tongue.
She pulled me up and attacked my belt, yanking my pants down. My cock sprang free, thick and throbbing. She wrapped her fingers around it and stroked rough. "So big," she muttered, then dropped and took me in her mouth. Her lips stretched wide as she sucked me deep, gagging but not stopping. Spit ran down my shaft while she bobbed fast, one hand cupping my balls. I fucked her face, holding her head, thrusting until my cock hit the back of her throat.
"Enough," I said, lifting her onto the table. I spread her legs and slammed into her wet pussy in one thrust. She cried out, nails digging into my back. I pounded her hard, the table creaking, her tits bouncing with every stroke. Her cunt squeezed me tight, hot and slick. "Fuck me harder, my son," she begged, voice filthy now. I grabbed her thighs and railed her, balls slapping her ass.
We moved to the floor. She got on all fours, sari bunched at her waist. I took her from behind, gripping her hips and driving deep. Her ass rippled with each thrust. I slapped it red, then reached under to rub her clit again. She came screaming, pussy milking my cock. I didn't stop. I flipped her onto her back, hooked her legs over my shoulders, and fucked her until sweat poured off us.
"Fill me," she demanded, eyes locked on mine. I exploded inside her, pumping thick ropes of cum deep in her cunt. She clenched around me, taking every drop.
We lay there panting, bodies sticky. Amma pulled me close, kissing me slow and deep. "This stays between us," she whispered. But we both knew it wouldn't be the last time. Her hand already stroked my cock back to life.
