“Your turn to guess, beta,” she whispered, voice hoarse. “Did Mummy guess right?”
I couldn’t answer. My hands shook with the effort of not grabbing her right then.
The game paused—charged, trembling on the brink. Rain roared outside. Inside, four bodies pulsed with the same unspoken question: who would break first?
The towel slipped from Mummy’s torso the Mummyent Ajay and Sanjay closed in, the knot undone by eager fingers that trembled as much as mine did. Rainwater still beaded on her skin like forbidden pearls; candlelight licked over her heavy breasts, casting golden shadows that accentuated their full, pendulous sway, nipples swollen and dark from their earlier attention, the faint red marks of teeth blooming like forbidden roses across the olive expanse. She knelt in the center of the rug, naked, magnificent, breathing fast—her chest rising and falling in rhythmic heaves that made her breasts quiver softly, the subtle tremor traveling down her toned belly to the dark, trimmed curls framing her glistening pussy lips, already parted slightly from arousal, a single drop of her slickness tracing a slow path down her inner thigh. The blindfold stayed off this time—her choice. Her eyes found mine across the circle and held, steady, burning with a mix of maternal tenderness and the ancient, primal hunger that had been simmering between us for years.
Sanjay spun the bottle one last time. It pointed at me again.
“Dare,” Ajay said before I could speak, voice rough with lust. “Sit there, boxers off, stroke yourself slow—but no coming. Not until Aunty comes from our mouths on her tits. Watch every second.”
Mummy’s lips parted, full and plush, a soft gasp escaping as her tongue darted out to wet them unconsciously. For a heartbeat I thought she’d stop it, her hand twitching as if to cover herself. Instead she looked straight into my eyes—deep, searching, maternal love braided tight with something ancient and hungry—and whispered, “Is this what you want for your birthday, beta? Then I’ll give it to you. But promise—no telling Papady. Ever.”
The words were a vow and a knife, slicing through my chest to expose the raw, possessive core beneath. I nodded, throat raw and constricted, and shoved my boxers down in one jerky motion, the fabric catching briefly on my throbbing cock before it sprang free, veiny and flushed, pre-cum already pearling at the slit like a tear of desperate need. I wrapped my fist around it, the heat of my shaft searing my palm, and began slow strokes as ordered—base to tip, twisting slightly at the head, while jealousy and devotion warred in my chest, making my balls ache with unspent tension.
Ajay and Sanjay moved in like wolves granted permission, their eyes glazed with rum-fueled lust, cocks straining against their wet boxers as they knelt on either side of her, bodies lean and taut from youth, muscles flexing under sweat-slicked skin.
They knelt on either side of her, hands reverent now, almost worshipful, as if approaching a sacred altar. Ajay cupped her left breast from below, his long fingers splaying across the underside, lifting the heavy weight to his mouth with a low, reverent groan, his thumb brushing the sensitive curve where breast met ribcage. His tongue circled the nipple in slow, wet spirals, tracing the pebbled areola with deliberate flicks that made her skin pucker further, before sucking it deep into the hot cavern of his mouth, cheeks hollowing as he nursed with rhythmic pulls, the wet suckling sounds filling the room like obscene music. Sanjay mirrored him on the right—his rougher hands kneading the soft flesh until milk-white fingerprints bloomed on olive skin, teeth grazing the nipple lightly at first, sending a visible shiver through her body, her back arching involuntarily to press more into his mouth, then soothing with long, languid licks that flattened his tongue against the hardened peak, saliva dripping down in thin strings to pool in her navel.