“Okay, Mummy… remove the blouse completely.”
Shivering with excitement and arousal, Arjun’s voice cracked. His cock strained aggressively against his pants.
Meera slid the blouse off her shoulders and let it drop to the floor. She stood with her hands at her sides, breasts proudly exposed to the cool air of the living room. Her nipples were rock hard, begging for attention. Arjun zoomed in mercilessly, capturing extreme close-ups of her areolas and even the tiny opening at the tip of her nipples in stunning detail. These photos were going straight to his private collection.
Meera’s breathing was ragged now, her sexy red lips parted invitingly.
“Mummy, put your index finger in your mouth.”
She raised her right hand and slid her index finger between her lips.
“Close your lips around it and suck on it.”
Meera obeyed, sucking seductively on her own finger while maintaining eye contact with her son through half-lidded eyes. The sight was almost enough to make Arjun cum in his pants. He took photo after photo, imagining it was his cock sliding between those glossy lips.
“Mummy, hold your breasts with both hands.”
She released her finger with a wet pop and cupped her bare breasts, squeezing them firmly. Her head fell back against the wall, eyes closed in pleasure as she kneaded her own soft flesh, thumbs brushing over her sensitive nipples. She was clearly enjoying pleasuring herself in front of her son.
Arjun captured it all—hundreds of stills of his topless mother squeezing and playing with her breasts.
“Okay, Mummy. Enough… you pose very nicely,” he complimented, trying to maintain some control.
“You think so? And how are the pictures turning out?” Meera asked seductively, flicking one of her own nipples teasingly with her fingers.
“Mummy, the pictures are coming out great. I think we have to try some new poses,” Arjun announced, voice thick with lust.
“Okay.”
“Mummy, first remove your locket.”
Meera lifted the mangalsutra over her head and set it aside. She was now completely topless, wearing only the dangerously low green chiffon sari, waist chain, bangles, and sindoor. It was a dream come true. Arjun still couldn’t fully believe his beautiful, 41-year-old mother was standing half-naked in front of him.
“Okay, Mummy… lift the hem of your sari like earlier, but with both hands this time.”
Meera grasped the hem of the sheer sari with both hands and slowly lifted it all the way up to her mid-thighs. Her naked legs were a masterpiece—smooth, thick, perfectly curved thighs that Arjun wanted to kiss, worship, spread, and fuck. The chiffon bunched around her hips, the black panties now clearly visible underneath the transparent fabric.
Arjun’s hands shook as he photographed her from every angle, zooming in on the soft inner thighs and the way her black panties hugged her mound. The sexual tension had reached a boiling point. Meera’s body trembled slightly, her nipples diamond-hard, her breathing shallow and needy.
The photoshoot was no longer about choosing a sari for the reception. It had become something far more intimate, dangerous, and addictive.
