The steam lingered in the bathroom like a guilty secret, thick and heavy. Priya stood before the mirror, towel loosely draped, her skin still flushed and glistening. Thick streaks of Aryan's cum coated her face—across her cheeks, lips, chin—dripping slowly down her neck onto her full breasts. She scooped a glob with her fingers, bringing it to her mouth, tongue swirling as she savored the salty thickness.
"Mmm... so much," she murmured, eyes half-lidded with satisfaction. "You really painted me, Aryan."
From behind, Aryan watched, cock twitching despite the marathon. "You look incredible like this... marked as mine."
Priya turned, pressing her cum-glazed body against him, kissing deeply—sharing the taste. "One more load... on my face again. I want to feel it dry while I make chai downstairs."
He stroked himself hard, aiming as she knelt. Thick ropes erupted—splattering her forehead, nose, open mouth. She caught what she could on her tongue, swallowing greedily, rubbing the rest into her skin like cream.
"Thick... potent. Better than any moisturizer."
They dressed hastily—Priya in a simple cotton kurta, the fabric clinging slightly to damp spots. Aryan hid in the bedroom closet as footsteps echoed below.
Rohan burst in minutes later, backpack thudding. "Ma! Surprise—early train!"
Priya descended calmly, face still bearing faint glossy streaks she'd missed in her rush. "Beta! So good to see you." She hugged him tight, the scent of sex faint but there.
Rohan pulled back, frowning slightly. "Ma... you have something on your face. Like... milk? Or cream?"
Priya touched her cheek casually, smearing a drying spot. "Oh, clumsy me—just some face cream. The heat makes my skin dry."
She moved to the kitchen, brewing chai with steady hands, though her thighs clenched around the lingering ache between them. Rohan sat at the counter, scrolling his phone, oblivious.
"Smells good," he said, sipping. "You look... glowing today."
Priya smiled secretly, tasting Aryan on her lips. *If only you knew, beta.*
Upstairs, Aryan listened through the vent—jealousy and lust warring as mother and son chatted normally. Priya's voice was warm, maternal—nothing like the depraved whispers she'd moaned hours ago.
When Rohan headed to shower, Priya slipped upstairs briefly, pulling Aryan into a quick, desperate kiss. "Tonight... when he's asleep. I need you inside me again."
The day passed in tense normalcy—family lunch, Rohan napping, Priya stealing glances upstairs. Every innocent moment felt charged, her body marked invisibly with Aryan's claim.
As evening fell, Rohan crashed early—jet lag from travel. Priya texted Aryan: *Now. Bedroom.*
He crept in silently. Priya pushed him onto the bed, straddling immediately—kurta hiked, no panties, pussy dripping as she sank down raw.
"Missed this cock all day," she whispered, riding slow and deep to avoid noise. "Your cum still inside me from earlier... mixing with new."
Aryan gripped her hips, thrusting up carefully. "Risky... with him next door."
"That's what makes it better." Priya leaned down, breasts pressing his chest. "Breed me quietly... fill your slutty Aunty."
They fucked in hushed frenzy—missionary with her hand over his mouth, doggy with pillows muffling her screams. Aryan flooded her twice—deep creampies leaking as she clenched.
After, Priya licked him clean, swallowing the mix. "Tomorrow... more risks. I can't stop."
Aryan pulled her close. "Neither can I."
But in Rohan's room, his phone buzzed—a forgotten notification from earlier. Dev's text: *Bro your mom is MILF goals. That glow tho 👀*
Rohan stirred, glancing at it sleepily. Frowned. Dismissed it as joke.
For now.
The bathroom mirror reflected a woman transformed—Priya's face glazed with thick, drying streaks of Aryan's cum, lips swollen, eyes hazy with afterglow. She touched her cheek gently, smearing it further, a secret smile playing on her lips.
"You really made me cum so hard, Aryan," she whispered, voice hoarse from screaming into pillows. "Look at this mess... all your doing."
Aryan leaned against the door, spent but already stirring at the sight. "You look perfect like that. My personal canvas."
Priya scooped a thick glob from her chin, sucking her fingers clean with a moan. "Thick... so much. Tastes like addiction."
She wiped most of it off hastily with a towel—leaving just faint glossy patches she'd blame on "face cream"—and threw on a loose housecoat. Aryan hid in the closet as the front door opened downstairs.
Rohan called up cheerfully. "Ma! Home early—brought snacks!"
Priya descended, heart racing but face composed. Rohan hugged her, then paused, tilting his head. "Ma... your face looks shiny. New moisturizer? You glow differently today."
She touched her cheek casually, feeling a drying spot. "Yes, beta—just some cream. The humidity plays havoc with my skin."
Rohan shrugged, accepting it, handing her a cup of takeaway chai. Priya sipped slowly, the warm liquid mixing with the lingering taste of Aryan on her tongue. *If only he knew what I was really drinking earlier...*
They sat in the living room—normal family time. Rohan rambled about college, friends, cricket. Priya nodded, laughed in all the right places, but her mind replayed the shower marathon: Aryan's cock stretching her bare, loads painting her inside and out, the risk making every orgasm sharper.
Rohan glanced at her again. "Seriously, Ma—you look happier lately. Glowing, even. Dad coming back soon?"
Priya's smile faltered for a split second. Vikram's return loomed like a storm cloud. "Soon, beta. But I'm just... enjoying life."
Upstairs, Aryan listened, jealousy flaring at the easy intimacy. But the thrill won—he crept down later that night, when Rohan slept.
Priya waited in bed, housecoat discarded. "One last time before everything changes," she whispered, pulling him on top.
They fucked slowly, deeply—missionary with eyes locked, her legs around his waist as he bred her raw one final time. No words, just gasps and the wet sounds of bodies claiming each other.
After, Priya held him tight. "Whatever happens when Vikram returns... this isn't over. You're mine now."
Aryan kissed her cum-tasted lips. "And you're my everything."
But dawn brought reality. Vikram's flight landed early. Texts buzzed: *Home soon. Missed you.*
Priya deleted them, turning to Aryan with dark, possessive eyes. "We'll find ways. Always."
The affair wasn't ending—it was just beginning.