In the bustling suburbs of Mumbai, where the monsoon rains painted the streets in a perpetual sheen of wetness, lived the Sharma family. Priya Sharma was a vision of ripe, voluptuous beauty at 42 years old. Her body was a testament to years of yoga and unspoken desires—massive, heaving breasts that strained against her tight blouses, a round, jiggling ass that swayed hypnotically with every step, and between her thick thighs, a pussy that stayed perpetually slick, dripping with a need she could never fully satisfy.
Her husband, Rajesh, was a decent man, a mid-level executive with a paunch and a cock that barely measured four inches when hard. Their sex life was a disappointment—quick thrusts lasting no more than two minutes before he spilled his weak seed and rolled over, snoring. Priya would lie there, her cunt throbbing and soaked, fingers sneaking down to rub her swollen clit in frustration, imagining something thicker, longer, something that could stretch her and pound her for hours.
Then there was her son, Aryan. At 20, he was home from college for the summer, his body honed from gym sessions—broad shoulders, chiseled abs, and hidden beneath his shorts, a cock that Priya had accidentally glimpsed once while he showered with the door ajar. It was massive even soft, thick veins running along its length, promising endurance that made her mouth water and her pussy clench.
Priya's obsession had started innocently enough—a hug that lingered too long, the way his muscular arms wrapped around her soft curves. But it grew. She'd masturbate at night, picturing his young, virile body pinning her down, that big dick sliding into her dripping folds. Her husband never noticed her distant gaze or the way her nipples hardened when Aryan walked by in his boxers.
One humid evening, Rajesh announced his business trip to Delhi. "I'll be gone for a week, Priya. Take care of the house—and Aryan." He kissed her cheek, oblivious to the fire igniting in her core.
As the door clicked shut behind him, Priya stood in the kitchen, her saree clinging to her sweat-damp skin. Her pussy was already weeping, juices trickling down her inner thighs. *This is my chance,* she thought, heart pounding. *I need him. I need my son's cock.*
The first night alone, Priya cooked Aryan's favorite—butter chicken and naan. She wore a low-cut blouse that barely contained her enormous tits, the fabric translucent from the steam, her dark areolas faintly visible. Her ass, poured into a tight petticoat, jiggled as she bent over the stove.
Aryan sat at the table, scrolling his phone, but his eyes kept drifting to her. "Mom, you look... different tonight," he said, voice husky.
Priya turned, a coy smile on her lips. "Just trying to make you comfortable, beta." She leaned over to serve him, her cleavage spilling forward, nipples poking like diamonds against the thin material. Aryan's gaze locked there, his shorts tenting slightly.
After dinner, they watched a movie on the couch. Priya "accidentally" sat close, her thigh pressing against his. The AC was on, but the room felt scorching. She crossed her legs, her saree riding up to reveal smooth, creamy skin. Her pussy ached, slick and hot, the musky scent of her arousal faint in the air.
Halfway through, she stretched, arching her back so her breasts thrust out. "It's so hot," she murmured, fanning herself. A button on her blouse popped open, exposing more of her deep valley.
Aryan swallowed hard. "Mom... your blouse..."
She glanced down, feigning surprise, but didn't fix it. Instead, she shifted, her hand brushing his thigh. "Oops. These old things." Her fingers lingered, inches from the growing bulge in his pants.
That night, Priya lay in bed, fingers plunging into her sopping cunt, moaning softly. *Soon, my love. Mommy's pussy needs your big cock.*
The next morning, Priya woke early, her body on fire. She slipped into a sheer nightie that hugged her curves, no bra or panties underneath. Her nipples were rock-hard, pussy lips swollen and glistening with fresh juices.
Aryan was in the kitchen, making coffee in just his gym shorts. His cock outline was prominent, thick and long even flaccid. Priya's mouth went dry.
"Morning, beta," she purred, pressing against him from behind to reach a cup. Her massive tits squished into his back, ass grinding subtly against his hip.
He stiffened—everywhere. "M-Mom..."
She didn't move away. "Help me with this jar?" She handed him honey, bending over the counter so her nightie rode up, exposing the bottom curve of her juicy ass cheeks. Her pussy peeked between her thighs, dripping wet, lips puffy and inviting.
Aryan fumbled, his hand brushing her hip. Electricity shot through them. Priya moaned softly, pushing back. "Careful, Aryan. Mommy's a bit... slippery today."
His cock twitched visibly in his shorts, now half-hard and straining. Priya turned, eyes locking on it. "Looks like you're growing up so fast," she whispered, licking her lips.
They ate breakfast in tense silence, stolen glances fueling the fire. Priya's cunt throbbed, leaking onto the chair.
By evening, the tension was unbearable. Rain poured outside, thunder rumbling like their suppressed desires. Priya called Aryan to her room. "Beta, my back hurts from cooking. Can you massage me?"
She lay face-down on the bed, nightie hiked up to her waist, ass fully exposed—round, plump, with a glistening trail of pussy juice running down her crack.
Aryan hesitated, then climbed on, hands trembling as he kneaded her shoulders. Priya moaned exaggeratedly. "Lower, baby. Mommy needs it deep."
His hands moved down, thumbs digging into her soft flesh. She spread her legs slightly, her dripping pussy on full display, clit peeking out, swollen and begging.
"Fuck, Mom... you're so wet," he groaned, unable to hold back.
Priya flipped over, tits bouncing free as the nightie tore open. "It's you, Aryan. You've made Mommy's pussy drip for years. I need your big, thick cock inside me. Fuck me slow, make me cum like your father never could."
Aryan shed his clothes, his massive dick springing free—9 inches of veiny, throbbing meat, precum beading at the tip. Priya's eyes widened, hand wrapping around it, stroking slowly. "So much bigger... longer... Mommy's going to milk you dry."
He hovered over her, cockhead nudging her sopping entrance. Priya guided him, gasping as the thick head parted her folds. "Slow, beta... stretch Mommy's tight pussy."
Inch by inch, he sank in, her walls clenching around his girth. She was soaked, juices squirting out with each push. "Oh god, yes... so full... fuck me deep."
Aryan thrust gently at first, building rhythm. Her huge tits bounced with every stroke, nipples in his mouth as he sucked hungrily. Priya's ass jiggled, hands gripping his back. "Harder now, baby... Mommy can take it. Your cock lasts so long... don't stop."
They fucked for what felt like hours—missionary, her legs wrapped around him, then her on top, riding slow and deep, grinding her clit against his base. Her pussy creamed around his shaft, multiple orgasms ripping through her, squirting over his balls.
Finally, as she came again, walls milking him, Aryan groaned. "Mom... I'm gonna..."
"Cum inside me, fill Mommy's womb!" Hot ropes of thick cum flooded her, overflowing from her stuffed cunt.
They collapsed, bodies entwined, her pussy still twitching around his semi-hard cock. The week had just begun—endless nights of slow, erotic bliss awaited.
The rain had turned into a full-blown storm, drumming against the windows like a heartbeat. Inside Priya's bedroom, the air was thick with the scent of sex: her sweet, musky juices mingling with the salty tang of Aryan's cum still leaking from her well-fucked pussy. The sheets were soaked, not just from the rain seeping through the cracked window, but from the flood between her thighs.
Priya lay on her side, one leg draped over Aryan's hip, her massive tits pressed against his chest. His cock, still half-hard and slick with their combined fluids, rested against her belly like a promise. She traced lazy circles around his nipple with a manicured nail, her pussy giving a greedy clench at the thought of round two.
"Beta," she whispered, voice husky from screaming his name, "Mommy's cunt is still hungry. Your father never left me this full… or this empty at the same time."
Aryan groaned, his hand sliding down to cup her ass, fingers sinking into the soft, jiggling flesh. "Mom… you're insatiable. I've never fucked anyone like this." His cock twitched against her skin, thickening again. "How are you still so wet?"
Priya smiled wickedly, shifting to straddle him. Her dripping pussy lips parted over his shaft, sliding along its length without taking him in yet. "Because it's you, baby. Your big, thick cock owns this pussy now." She rocked slowly, coating him in her slick, the obscene squelch of her arousal filling the room. "Feel how Mommy's cunt kisses you? It's begging for more."
She leaned down, her heavy breasts swaying, nipples brushing his lips. Aryan latched onto one, sucking hard, making her moan and grind harder. "Yes… just like that. Suck Mommy's tits while I tease this monster."
For long minutes, she tortured them both: sliding her soaked folds up and down his shaft, letting the head nudge her clit but never sinking down. Her juices dripped onto his balls, pooling beneath them. Aryan's hands gripped her hips, trying to pull her down, but she resisted, laughing breathlessly.
"Slow, baby," she purred. "We have all night. Let Mommy savor every inch."
Finally, when his cock was throbbing angrily and her pussy was clenching around nothing, she lifted her hips. Guiding him with one hand, she sank down inch by torturous inch. Her walls stretched around his girth, fluttering as she took him to the hilt. "Fuuuck… so deep. You're in Mommy's womb, beta."
Aryan's head fell back, a guttural moan escaping as her heat swallowed him. Priya stayed still for a moment, savoring the fullness, then began to ride him: slow, deep rolls of her hips, her ass slapping softly against his thighs. Her tits bounced hypnotically, and she cupped them, pinching her nipples. "Look at me, Aryan. Watch Mommy fuck you."
He obeyed, eyes dark with lust, hands roaming her curves. The storm outside mirrored their rhythm: slow build, thunderous release. Priya's pussy creamed around him, a thick ring of white forming at the base of his cock. She leaned back, one hand on his thigh, the other rubbing her swollen clit in tight circles.
"I'm gonna cum again," she gasped. "Your cock… it's too perfect. Fill me up, baby. Breed Mommy's dripping cunt."
Her orgasm hit like lightning: body shaking, pussy squirting in hot gushes over his abs. Aryan thrust up, meeting her spasms, and with a roar, unloaded inside her. Thick, endless ropes of cum painted her walls, overflowing and running down his balls.
Priya collapsed forward, both of them panting. She kissed him deeply, tongues lazy and sated. "Six more nights," she murmured against his lips. "And every one, this pussy is yours."
Outside, the rain softened to a drizzle, but inside, the heat only grew.
The first rays of monsoon-filtered sunlight slipped through the half-open curtains, painting golden stripes across Priya's sweat-slicked skin. She woke before Aryan, her body deliciously sore, pussy still puffy and leaking the remnants of last night's multiple loads. A slow smile curved her lips as she watched him sleep: his chest rising and falling, cock thick even in repose, resting against his thigh like a sleeping python.
She slipped from the bed, the cool air kissing her bare skin. Her nightie lay in tatters on the floor; she didn't bother with clothes. Instead, she padded to the kitchen, hips swaying, ass cheeks jiggling with every step. The tile was cold under her feet, but her cunt stayed hot, dripping a thin trail of cum and juice down her inner thigh.
In the fridge, she found fresh cream and honey. *Perfect.* She poured cream into a steel bowl, drizzled honey over it, then carried it back to the bedroom. Aryan stirred as she climbed onto the bed, straddling his waist. His cock twitched at the warmth of her thighs.
"Wake up, beta," she cooed, dipping a finger into the mixture and painting it across her left nipple. "Mommy made breakfast."
Aryan's eyes fluttered open, locking on the glistening peak. He groaned, hands immediately cupping her heavy tits, thumbs smearing the cream further. "Fuck, Mom… you're unreal." He leaned up, tongue lapping at the sweet mess, sucking her nipple deep into his mouth.
Priya moaned, grinding her soaked pussy along his hardening shaft. "That's it… drink your milk, baby. Mommy's tits are full for you." She reached for the bowl, drizzling honey down her cleavage, letting it pool in the valley before trickling over her belly to her mound.
Aryan followed the trail like a starving man, licking and sucking, teeth grazing her skin. When he reached her pussy, he paused, inhaling the mingled scent of honey and her arousal. "So sweet," he murmured, then dragged his tongue through her folds, lapping up the sticky mix.
Priya's head fell back, fingers tangling in his hair. "Yes… eat Mommy's cunt like dessert." She rocked against his face, smearing honey and cream over his lips and chin. His tongue plunged inside her, curling, fucking her slow and deep while his nose nudged her clit.
She came with a shudder, squirting a mix of her juices and melted honey into his mouth. Aryan drank greedily, then flipped her onto her back. The bowl tipped, spilling cream across her tits and belly. He straddled her chest, cock sliding through the mess, painting himself glossy.
"Tit-fuck me, beta," Priya begged, pushing her breasts together around his shaft. "Use Mommy's big tits."
Aryan thrust slow, the slick cream letting him glide between her mounds. The head of his cock poked out the top, brushing her chin. She craned her neck, tongue flicking the tip, tasting honey, cream, and precum. "Mmm… give me more."
He groaned, pace steady, watching her lick him clean with every stroke. When his balls tightened, he pulled back, aiming lower. "Open your pussy, Mom. I'm gonna glaze you."
Priya spread her legs wide, fingers parting her dripping lips. Aryan jerked himself once, twice, then erupted: thick ropes of cum splattering across her clit, mixing with the cream and honey already there. She rubbed it in, fingers slipping inside her cunt, fucking herself with his seed.
"Breakfast in bed," she laughed breathlessly, pulling him down for a sticky, sweet kiss.
The day had just begun, and the house still smelled of rain, sex, and forbidden sweetness.
The afternoon sun hung low, turning the bathroom into a hazy golden cave. Priya had dragged Aryan in "to save water," she'd said with a wink, but the real reason pulsed between her thighs: the need to feel his hands on her slick, soap-slicked curves.
She turned the shower on full blast, hot water cascading over her shoulders, running in rivulets between her heavy breasts and down the slope of her belly. Steam rose in thick clouds, beading on the tiles and fogging the mirror. Aryan stepped in behind her, cock already half-hard from watching her peel off the sticky nightie in the hallway.
Priya faced the spray, letting it plaster her long hair to her back. She reached for the jasmine body wash, squeezing a generous dollop into her palm. "Wash Mommy, beta," she murmured, guiding his hands to her tits. "Every inch."
Aryan's large hands cupped her soapy breasts, thumbs circling her nipples until they peaked like ripe berries. The suds slid lower as he kneaded, water sluicing the lather down her waist, over the generous curve of her hips, and finally between her legs. Priya sighed, parting her thighs so his fingers could glide through her folds.
"You're still swollen," he whispered, voice rough with awe. Two fingers slipped inside her easily—she was drenched, pussy lips puffy from hours of fucking. "I did this to you."
"All you, baby." She pushed back against him, feeling his cock nestle between her ass cheeks, thick and rigid. "Now rinse me… then refill me."
He spun her gently, pressing her front to the cool tile. Water pounded his back as he dropped to his knees. Priya's breath hitched when his tongue traced the seam of her pussy from behind, lapping at the mixture of soap and her endless arousal. He spread her cheeks, licking slow, deliberate stripes from clit to entrance, savoring every drop.
"Fuck, Mom… you taste like sin." His tongue pushed inside, fucking her in shallow thrusts while the shower rinsed the soap away. Priya's palms slapped the wall, hips rocking back, chasing the wet heat of his mouth.
When she was trembling on the edge, he stood, guiding his cock to her entrance. One smooth thrust seated him to the hilt. The angle was perfect—his thickness dragged along her front wall with every slow pump. Water sluiced between them, making their bodies glide.
Priya reached back, nails digging into his thigh. "Slow and deep, Aryan… just like that." Each stroke stretched her, the head kissing her cervix, sending sparks up her spine. Her tits bounced against the tile, nipples scraping deliciously.
Minutes blurred—five, ten, fifteen. He never hurried. His hands roamed: one pinching a nipple, the other rubbing tight circles over her clit. Priya's moans echoed off the walls, mingling with the hiss of the shower.
"I'm close," she gasped. "Don't stop—fill me again."
Aryan's rhythm faltered, hips snapping harder. With a guttural groan, he buried himself deep, cock pulsing as he flooded her. The heat of his cum triggered her own climax; her pussy clamped down, milking every drop while her legs shook.
They stayed locked together, water cooling around them. Priya turned in his arms, kissing him lazily under the spray. "Five more nights," she whispered against his lips. "And every shower is ours."
Steam curled around them like a lover's embrace, the scent of jasmine and sex thick in the air.
The clock on the microwave blinked 12:47 AM when Priya's bare feet touched the cool marble of the kitchen floor. The house was silent except for the low hum of the fridge and the occasional drip from the monsoon-soaked balcony. She hadn't bothered with clothes—her skin still tingled from the shower, pussy tender and swollen, a slow trickle of Aryan's cum seeping down her inner thigh with every step.
She opened the fridge, the light spilling over her curves like a spotlight. Cold air kissed her nipples, hardening them instantly. A half-eaten mango sat on the middle shelf, its golden flesh glistening. *Perfect.*
Behind her, Aryan padded in, drawn by the glow. He wore nothing but shadows, cock heavy and half-erect, swaying as he approached. "Can't sleep, Mom?"
Priya didn't turn. She picked up the mango, sinking her teeth into it. Juice burst across her tongue, dripping down her chin and onto her chest. "Hungry," she said, voice low and syrupy. "For something sweet."
Aryan's eyes darkened. He stepped close, chest to her back, hands sliding around to cup her sticky breasts. "Let me feed you."
She turned in his arms, mango in hand. With deliberate slowness, she dragged the fruit across her lower lip, then down her throat, between her tits, leaving a glistening trail. Aryan followed it with his mouth—tongue lapping at the sweet nectar, teeth grazing her skin. When he reached her nipple, he sucked hard, drawing a moan from deep in her throat.
Priya set the mango on the counter, then hoisted herself up, legs spreading wide. The cold granite shocked her ass, but her pussy wept hotter, lips parting in invitation. "Your turn," she whispered.
Aryan dropped to his knees without hesitation. He took the mango, rubbing the juicy flesh against her clit in slow circles. The chill made her gasp, hips jerking. Then his mouth replaced the fruit—tongue swirling through the sticky mess, sucking her swollen bud until her thighs trembled.
"Inside," she begged, fingers tangling in his wet hair. "Taste how sweet Mommy is."
He pushed two fingers into her, curling, pumping slow while his tongue kept flicking. The squelch of her soaked cunt echoed in the quiet kitchen. Mango juice and her arousal coated his chin, dripping onto the floor.
Priya's head fell back, tits bouncing as she rode his face. "Don't stop—oh god, right there—"
Her orgasm crashed over her suddenly, pussy clenching around his fingers, squirting a mix of cum and mango nectar over his wrist. Aryan groaned, lapping it up like a man starved.
He stood, cock now fully hard, throbbing against her thigh. Priya wrapped her legs around his waist, guiding him in. One smooth thrust buried him to the root. The counter creaked under them as he began to move—slow, deep strokes that made her toes curl.
"Fuck me on the table," she gasped. "Like I'm your midnight feast."
Aryan lifted her easily, carrying her to the dining table. He laid her back among the scattered mail and fruit bowl, pushing her legs up until her knees touched her shoulders. The angle let him sink impossibly deep, his cock dragging along every ridge inside her.
Priya's nails raked his back. "Yes—stretch Mommy's cunt—make it remember you."
He fucked her steady and relentless, the table rocking with each thrust. Her tits jiggled wildly, mango-stained and glistening. When she came again, her pussy fluttered so hard he had to grit his teeth to keep from spilling.
"On your knees," he growled.
She slid down, mouth watering. Aryan fed her his cock—slick with her juices and mango sweetness. She sucked slow, savoring the taste of them both, tongue tracing every vein. When he was close, she pulled back, aiming him at her chest.
"Paint Mommy's tits."
Hot ropes of cum lashed across her skin, mixing with the sticky fruit. Priya rubbed it in, then licked her fingers clean, eyes locked on his.
They left the kitchen a mess—mango pulp smeared on the counter, cum drying on the table. Four more nights stretched ahead, each one ripe for devouring.
The monsoon had returned in the early hours, a soft, steady patter against the balcony railing. Priya stood at the open sliding door, completely naked, skin kissed by cool droplets that drifted in on the breeze. The city lights below shimmered through the rain, but up here on the fifteenth floor, it felt like they were the only two people in the world.
Aryan watched her from the bed, cock already stirring at the sight: her silhouette framed by the storm, massive tits rising and falling with each breath, the curve of her ass glistening where raindrops slid down her spine. She crooked a finger without turning. "Come here, beta. Let the rain wash us clean… before we get filthy again."
He rose, padding across the room. The moment he stepped onto the balcony, the rain soaked him instantly, plastering his hair to his forehead, running in rivulets down his chest and over the thick length of his cock. Priya turned, pressing her wet body to his. Their mouths met in a slow, hungry kiss, tongues sliding like the rain itself.
She guided his hands to her breasts, letting him feel how the cold water made her nipples pebble-hard. Aryan groaned into her mouth, thumbs circling the stiff peaks until she whimpered. Then she sank to her knees on the damp tiles, uncaring of the puddle forming beneath her.
Rain streamed over her face as she took him in her mouth: slow, worshipful licks along the underside, tongue swirling around the head to taste the fresh water and the salt of his skin. Aryan's fingers threaded through her soaked hair, hips rocking gently as she sucked him deeper, cheeks hollowing.
"Mom… fuck, your mouth…" His voice was lost to the rain.
Priya pulled off with a wet pop, looking up at him through lashes heavy with droplets. "Stand me up. Take me against the railing."
He lifted her easily, spinning her to face the city. She braced her hands on the wet metal rail, arching her back so her ass jutted out, pussy lips swollen and glistening in the dim light. Aryan stepped behind her, cock sliding between her thighs, teasing her entrance.
"Slow," she breathed. "Let the rain fuck us too."
He pushed in gradually, inch by inch, the cool rain contrasting with the scorching heat of her cunt. When he was fully seated, they stayed still for a moment, just feeling: her walls fluttering around him, water cascading down their joined bodies, thunder rumbling low in the distance.
Then he began to move: long, deliberate strokes that made her tits swing with each thrust. Priya's moans mixed with the rain, head tipped back, mouth open to catch the drops. Aryan's hand slid around to cup her mound, fingers finding her clit and rubbing in tight, slippery circles.
"Harder now," she gasped. "Make Mommy scream into the storm."
He obliged, hips snapping faster, the slap of wet skin echoing off the building. Her pussy clenched rhythmically, juices mingling with the rain to drip down their thighs. When she came, it was with a sharp cry that cut through the night, her body shaking so hard the railing rattled.
Aryan followed seconds later, burying himself deep and spilling inside her in thick, pulsing waves. The rain washed their combined release down her legs in pale streaks.
They stayed locked together, panting, letting the storm cool their fevered skin. Priya turned in his arms, kissing him softly. "Three more nights," she whispered against his lips. "And every storm is ours."
Lightning flashed, illuminating their entwined bodies for a heartbeat before the darkness swallowed them again.
The storm hadn't let up. At 2:13 AM, a crack of thunder shook the building, and every light in the apartment snapped off with a soft *pop*. Darkness swallowed them, broken only by the flickering blue-white of lightning through the open balcony door.
Priya laughed low in her throat, the sound vibrating against Aryan's chest where they still stood pressed to the railing. "Looks like the city wants us blind tonight, beta."
Aryan's hands tightened on her hips, cock still half-buried inside her, twitching at the sudden blackout. "I don't need light to find you, Mom."
She pulled off him slowly, the wet drag making them both shiver. Cool rain still sheeted in, soaking the living room rug. Priya took his hand, guiding him inside by touch and memory. The darkness felt thicker, velvet-soft, every sense sharpened: the scent of wet earth and sex, the slick sound of her thighs brushing together, the heat radiating from his skin.
They found the couch by feel. Priya pushed him down, then straddled his lap facing away, her back to his chest. She reached between them, guiding his rigid length back into her soaked pussy with a slow, deliberate sink. The angle was deeper this way; she could feel every vein, every throb.
"Hold still," she whispered. "Let Mommy ride you in the dark."
She began to move: slow, rolling circles of her hips, grinding her clit against his base. The blackout stripped away sight, leaving only sensation: the slap of her ass against his thighs, the wet squelch of her cunt swallowing him, the way her tits bounced heavy and free in the cool air.
Aryan's hands roamed blind: one cupping a breast, thumb flicking the nipple; the other sliding down to where they joined, fingers spreading her lips wider so he could feel himself sliding in and out. "Fuck, Mom… you're so hot inside. Soaked."
Lightning flashed again, freezing them in a strobe: Priya's head thrown back, mouth open in a silent scream; Aryan's face buried in her wet hair, teeth grazing her shoulder. Then darkness reclaimed them.
She sped up gradually, the couch creaking beneath them. Her pussy fluttered, another orgasm building slow and relentless. "Touch me everywhere," she gasped. "I want to feel you in the dark."
His hands obeyed: one sliding up to wrap gently around her throat, feeling her pulse race; the other dipping lower to circle her clit in tight, slippery strokes. The storm outside matched their rhythm: thunder rolling as she came with a broken cry, pussy clamping down so hard Aryan had to grit his teeth to keep from spilling.
When the aftershocks faded, she turned in his lap, facing him now. The darkness made their kiss clumsy at first—noses bumping, teeth clacking—then perfect: slow, filthy, tongues sliding like they had all the time in the world.
Priya rose just enough to realign them, then sank down again, taking him to the root. She rode him face-to-face, breasts pressed to his chest, foreheads touching. "Two more nights," she breathed against his lips. "And every blackout is ours."
Somewhere in the building, a generator hummed to life, but neither of them noticed. The dark was theirs alone.
The first hint of dawn crept in through the rain-streaked windows, a bruised lavender light that softened the edges of the living room. Power was still out; the apartment lay hushed except for the steady drum of water on the balcony and the low crackle of a single beeswax candle Priya had found in a drawer.
She'd placed it on the coffee table, its flame dancing gold across her skin as she knelt on the thick rug. Aryan sat on the couch, legs spread, cock jutting proud and glistening from her earlier mouth. The candlelight painted shadows under her heavy breasts, turned the slow drip of her arousal into liquid amber between her thighs.
Priya crawled forward, slow as a panther, eyes locked on his. When she reached him, she didn't speak; she simply took the candle, tilted it carefully, and let a single drop of warm wax fall onto the swell of her left breast.
The hiss of her inhale was sharp, delicious. The wax cooled instantly, a pale teardrop against her skin. Aryan's cock jerked; he reached for her, but she caught his wrists, guiding his hands to the couch cushions.
"Watch, beta," she murmured. "Mommy's going to paint herself for you."
Another drop—this one on her right nipple. She arched, a low moan vibrating in her throat as the heat bloomed and faded. A third traced a slow path down her belly, stopping just above her mound. Each bead hardened into a tiny monument to her hunger.
When the wax formed a delicate trail from breast to navel, she set the candle back on the table. Then she straddled him again, guiding his cock to her entrance. The wax cracked softly as her body moved, flakes falling like snow onto his thighs.
She sank down in one languid motion, pussy swallowing him whole. The heat of her cunt melted the last traces of wax against her skin; the faint scent of honey and beeswax mingled with their sex. Priya rolled her hips in slow, hypnotic figure-eights, tits swaying, candlelight flickering over the ruined artwork on her chest.
Aryan's hands found her ass, kneading the plump flesh, pulling her down harder onto each grind. "Mom… you're glowing," he rasped, voice raw from hours of use.
She leaned in, letting him taste the wax-sweetened skin of her neck. "Light me up, baby. Fuck me until the sun rises."
He thrust up to meet her, slow and deliberate, the slap of their bodies muffled by the rain. The candle burned lower, shadows stretching long across the walls. Priya's pussy fluttered, then clamped—her climax rolling through her in gentle waves rather than a storm, drawing his own release in quiet, pulsing surges deep inside her.
They stayed joined as the flame guttered, dawn bleeding rose-gold through the windows. One more night, Priya thought, resting her forehead against his. One more night to burn the world down.