Rohan came home early again the next morning—unexpected, bag slung over his shoulder, grinning as he knocked.
Priya was already on her knees in the living room, Aryan's cock deep in her throat, her saree pallu fallen to expose one heavy breast. The humid Mumbai dawn light filtered through the curtains, her skin glistening with sweat and saliva as she bobbed eagerly, eyes locked on his.
The knock froze them both.
"Ma! I'm home!" Rohan's voice called.
Priya pulled off with a wet pop, strings of spit connecting her swollen lips to Aryan's throbbing shaft. Her hand kept stroking slowly, teasingly. "Hide," she whispered, voice husky with lust. "Behind the couch. Don't make a sound."
Aryan ducked down, heart pounding, cock aching painfully hard. Priya adjusted her saree quickly, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand before opening the door.
"Rohan beta! So early again?" Her tone was perfectly maternal, warm and surprised.
"Yeah, no morning classes today." Rohan hugged her, dropping his bag. "Smells good—chai ready?"
"Of course. Sit, I'll bring it."
Priya moved to the kitchen, hips swaying, giving Aryan a hidden glimpse of her ass—still marked from last night. She poured chai, bending low enough that Aryan could see her breasts swaying freely under the thin fabric.
Rohan sat on the couch, scrolling his phone, oblivious to Aryan crouched inches away, cock leaking pre-cum onto the floor.
Priya returned with the tray, sitting beside Rohan. Her hand sneaked behind the couch cushion—finding Aryan's shaft, stroking firmly under cover.
Aryan bit his lip to stifle a groan as she pumped him slowly, expertly, her thumb circling the head. Rohan chatted about hostel food, none the wiser as his mother jerked off her lover right next to him.
The risk made it intense. Priya's strokes quickened, eyes flicking to Aryan with wicked promise. He thrust subtly into her fist, balls tightening.
When Rohan stood to grab juice from the fridge, Priya leaned back casually—mouth opening as Aryan aimed from his hiding spot. Thick ropes painted her face—across cheeks, lips, dripping down her chin onto her cleavage. She caught some on her tongue, swallowing discreetly, rubbing the rest into her skin like moisturizer.
Rohan returned, handing her a napkin. "Ma, you have something on your face—milk?"
Priya laughed lightly, wiping a streak. "Clumsy me. Thanks, beta."
The morning dragged with torture—Aryan watching Priya interact normally with her son, his cum drying on her skin, hidden under makeup she quickly applied.
Finally, Rohan grabbed his bag. "Heading out—study group."
"Be safe!" Priya called, seeing him to the door.
The click echoed.
She turned, face still marked faintly, eyes burning. "Now... clean me properly."
Priya pushed Aryan onto the couch, straddling his face. Her pussy—dripping with arousal from the risk—ground down, smearing her juices and remnants of his dried cum across his mouth.
"Lick it all off me. Taste your mess on Aunty's skin."
He did—tongue lapping her face clean, then diving into her folds as she rode him hard. Priya came quickly, squirting onto his tongue, body shaking from the pent-up thrill.
"Your turn," she gasped, sliding down to take him in her mouth again—sucking fiercely until he flooded her throat once more.
As they caught their breath, Priya traced patterns in the cum on her breasts. "Rohan will be home more now... but that just makes it hotter."
Aryan pulled her close. "You're insane."
She smiled possessively. "Insane for you. And we're just getting started."
But as Vikram's return date loomed closer, the risks were mounting.
How much longer could they push their luck?