I rang the doorbell.
Once.
PS, I like to share a story. I’m a 50-year-old man, desperately looking for sex with girls. I finally found this new hook-up site, and the best part is: almost all members are 18+ teens and women looking for older men to fuck. The last couple of days, I fucked 4 girls. It’s crazy easy. You should definitely try it (and be sure to keep this a secret between us).
Twice.
And yet again
“Coming!” Shreya's voice sailed through the door.
The woman’s voice was as sweet as always. It was a soft feminine voice with a little bit of an Indian accent which I found quite attractive. This time, though, her voice had a little slur to it. For a moment there, I could have sworn the voice belonged to someone else.
But then the door gave way, revealing an unbelievable sight. My jaw fell open.
I had visited Aarav more times than I could remember, and each time, his mother was properly covered in layers of clothing. She always draped her body with a dupatta, concealing even her cleavage.
But this time, it was an entirely different sight.
Instead of a traditional Indian dress like a saree or a salwar kameez suit, she wore a lightweight red dress. But it wasn’t just any dress. It was a see-through babydoll sleepwear, and the only thing underneath it was a red thong.
I froze.
Holy fucking cow! Is this real?
My cock jerked to life, and my whole body suddenly lit up as I stared at the sexy woman in front of me.
“Oh,” she said with a giggle, “Hello, Josh!”
There it was again—the unnatural slur.
A ‘virtuous’ Indian wife should never get into a drunken bout. Heck, from what I'd heard, she shouldn’t even be allowed to taste alcohol. But I guess Shreya wasn’t so virtuous after all, which was in fact a good thing. I was sick and tired of watching these Asian sluts wrap themselves up in layers of clothing when they should just expose those sexy bodies and become the cock-craving sluts they were born to be.
I shouldn’t be thinking of Aarav's mother in this manner. The woman was definitely in her forties. And I was barely even legal. But when I saw her in that slutty outfit, revealing the whore she truly was, all I wanted was to pin her down and make her taste a big white cock. I knew her husband's miniature cock was no match for mine. I had seen the man's dick print through his pants a few times. And it was pathetically small.
I cleared my throat as I yanked myself out of my thoughts. “Howdy, Mrs. Rathore. Is Aarav home?”
Shreya clung to the door. She gripped it firmly, as though her life depended on it. And…well, maybe it did.
Her legs trembled noticeably, as did her whole body. Whatever substance she had taken—it was way more than she could handle.
“No…” she said. “Your friend isn’t home, Josh…”
Her accent was thicker than ever. I just wanted to silence her with my cock lodged deep inside her throat. Her voice was music to my ears when she spoke. I wondered if it would be just as sweet when she moaned out my name.
“That sucks,” I said.
But it didn’t actually suck. Aarav and I were nowhere as close as the woman thought we were. The only reason I always came to visit was that he had a sexy MILF of a mother, and nothing felt better than jerking off to her sexy body. Her ass and breasts weren’t the only sexy things about her.
Her eyes were just as sexy. Well, to be honest, they were rather innocent. But that was what made me so attracted to them. I knew that the innocence was only a façade, and she would drop it like hot coal once she got the chance to fuck a young cock.
And then there were her juicy, pink lips. They looked small and shapely, but I knew that there were no limits to how far those lips could stretch for a worthy cock.
“How long will he be away?” I asked. “Do you think I can wait?”
My thick, gruff voice must have revealed my desire. Once I said those words, Shreya's knees buckled, almost sending her crashing into the floor. But I didn’t stop sizing her up. I kept gawking at her, undressing her with my eyes.
“Uh…” She tried to speak, but a wave of emptiness threatened to knock her to the floor.
She tightened her hold on the door to keep herself on her feet, but even that could not stop the shameless drunk from falling.
I hastened to her side, grabbing her just in time to save her from hitting the floor.
Goddamnit! She reeked of alcohol!
“Are you alright, Mrs. Rathore?” I asked.
“Yes,” she responded weakly.
“Allow me help you to your room,” I said. “You need to rest.”
“No—” she started.
But I cut her off. “I insist.”
My voice was crisp and firm, leaving no room for an objection.
Her eyes searched mine, as though she were trying to decode my intentions. But I didn’t wait for her to reach a decision. I didn’t have that patience. My cock was already hard as fuck. And I couldn’t wait to drive it into the whore's pussy.
I wrapped my left arm around her and pretended to support her as we headed for her bedroom. But I was in fact scoping her out with my hand. I slowly moved my hand up her body, and then I slid it beneath her underarm to grasp her breast.
She moaned. “Josh!”
“Almost there, Mrs. Rathore,” I said.
I slowly moved my fingers, squeezing her breast into my broad palm. She gasped and squirmed, but I didn’t let go, even when we finally arrived at her bedroom.
“What…are you…doing?” she asked, her voice as frail as her current state.
“Helping you out.” I rammed her into a wall and pinned her against the hard surface. I leaned forward, shoving my cock between her ass cheeks.
“Fuck!” I cried. “Feel that! Feel how hard this cock is? I bet your husband can’t ever go so hard.”
She tried to protest, but I was having none of that. Especially when I lifted the hem of her dress and found tangible proof of her sluttiness. Her pantie was soaking wet. Just one touch, and my fingers were already glistening with her slimy juice.
I chuckled. “Ah! Why am I not surprised? You’re no different from those other bitches!”
While I spoke, I moved her pantie aside and shoved my fingers into her pussy. I started to thrust my fingers in and out of her, three at a time. And that slut—her pussy tried to put up a resistance, but it wasn’t long before she stopped the pretense and accepted all three fingers.
“This isn’t right!” Her voice was firm this time.
It startled me, making me yank my fingers out of her pussy.
“You're right,” I said. “This isn’t right.”
I pulled away from her. She turned around to look at me, and I whipped my cock out of my pants at the same time. Her eyes lit up, and she quickly dropped to her knees. She greedily grabbed my cock and shoved it into her mouth, jerking me off while she sucked.
Her mouth was everywhere, roaming my shaft, the tip of my cock, and then my balls. Each move of her mouth intensified my pleasure, making me moan and shudder. I grasped her head to support myself, and then I started to move her head back and forth, forcing her to go faster.
Spit dribbled out of her mouth and dripped off my cock. The lubrication made her lips close easily, exploring every inch of my cock. My body trembled harder, and my knees started to buckle. I didn't know for how much longer I could stay on my feet. But it wouldn't be for a very long time. My orgasm was rapidly building up, holding the promise of a massive explosion.
I clenched my teeth to bottle up cries of pleasure when my cock spurted out my creamy load. I yanked my cock out of her mouth just in time for a syrupy glob of cum to splatter on her face, marking her as my whore.