Shreya ghoshal dating someone

The whole room was filled of sex sounds as I lowered my face to kiss my mother’s hungry cunt over her designer panties. The beautiful red lacy panties had a floral pattern on it much like the panties in that French movie I saw or like those sexy panties of his wife =those sexy purple, hot red, naughty flowery black and motherly torn brownish by looking at her panties, I remembered my days of masturbation after seeing those panties and sometimes even getting a few of motherly breasts of my neighbor’s wife.I could even make out her panty line from behind when she used to sleep.While my other hand touched the forbidden fruit of my mother and she gasped in my arms.“O my son, my new husband, my boyfriend, I love you so much. She was still dressed in her jewels but she quickly removed my shirt and below. In a moment she went stiff and uttered obscenities and went limp in my arms. A chill up to my spine ran up as soon as I realized that it was my own mother jumping on my cock.

This time it is a true story of real love and lust between a mother and son which happened in India. So read carefully because there might be another mommy lurking in the corner for you. I was just out of class tenth and so far I had studied in a boarding school. Her chochies r not that big but they are shapely and inviting. My stepbrother vijay and sister mannu were sleeping in the other room. The room was so tidy and clean, and it looked like the newly weds room oozing with sexiness and waiting for a fuck. The pundit got up and told us to take seven rounds of holy fire. We started necking while my hands had pulled out her blouse and were opening the hook of her designer bra.

My father was a doctor with state government and was posted 35 km from home. She used to dress up in full nighty at night while kneading the floor and doing all household activities. The more I told myself that I more horny I got now. They were lacy red n smelled a heavenly scent of her cunt smeared with her urine. She had flowers on her hair which smelt of jasmine. What a wonderful thought it was that I had married my mother. When we got home she said that by going round the fire I had married her for seven lives. I felt like kamadeva having sex with my own mother, Rati. I opened my mouth full and took a hearty bite of both her chuchies.

He used to come home only on weekends and sometimes even fortnights went on and he didn’t come. I have rarely seen her in saris, she wears a salwaar kameez usually. But on coming back from boarding college, I started getting sexual enjoyment and I often felt bad at it. I got her pics taken in the day and replaced them with the bodies of the sluts I had and saw my mommy in all those poses. Then I changed my mother’s name in the sexy stories and read them aloud for masturbation. I was an intoxicating smell and I went mad after it. I ate those hair, kissed the panty, sucked it n masturbated. I don’t know whether mom knew it but everyday I stole her used panties and put then back after my share. I got close to her and took her in my arms before planting a full mother son French kiss on her lips. She had nicely shapely white breasts and she had pinkish brown areolas bigger than the rupee coin. Her hands were at the back of my head stroking my hair.

I brought my hands to her velvety ass and slapped it a few times.

My mother grunted and groaned like a newly married girl while her fat ass shuddered in my crotch. My erect cock wedged deep into the inner recesses of her vagina.

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