We stood at the doorway, equally exposed, our soaked safas clinging transparently to our hips before slipping away entirely under the weight of water and arousal. Nothing hid our erections now—thick, throbbing cocks standing proud, veins pulsing, tips already glistening with pre-cum in the phone lights. The sight of her like this, vulnerable yet radiant, hit us like a drug. Time stretched, heavy and silent except for our breathing.
Himashu moved first, as if pulled by an invisible string. His eyes were dark with lust, body lean and muscled from college gym sessions, water dripping from his chest hair. He stepped forward slowly, barefoot on the cool tiles, his hardness swaying with each step. Mummy’s gaze dropped to it immediately—wide eyes tracing the length, then flicking away in shame, only to return, peeking through lowered lashes. He reached her gently, one hand brushing her wrist, lifting her arm away from her breasts with tender insistence. She didn’t resist. Her breath hitched as his fingers trailed up her arm, over her shoulder, then down to cup one heavy breast fully—thumb circling the hardened nipple slowly, teasingly. His other hand slid to the small of her bare back, pulling her closer until their bodies touched, wet skin on wet skin. She gasped softly, head tilting back, but her lips parted as he leaned in. The kiss started soft—tentative lips brushing—then deepened hungrily, tongues meeting in a wet, urgent dance. A low moan escaped her throat, vibrating against him.
Pawan was next, unable to hold back. Taller, broader, his body more defined from manual engineering projects, he approached from her other side, phone dropped forgotten on a desk (the flash still cutting a beam across them). His hands went straight to her waist, fingers splaying across her hips, pulling her into him while Himashu continued devouring her mouth. He kissed her exposed neck, trailing hot lips down to her collarbone, then lower—taking the free breast into his mouth, sucking greedily on the nipple while his hand kneaded the other, pinching lightly. Mummy’s body arched between them, a soft whimper turning into a throaty purr. Her hands, which had been limp at her sides, came alive—one tangling in Himashu’s wet hair, pulling him deeper into the kiss; the other reaching back to grip Pawan’s thigh, nails digging in as encouragement.
They explored her like worshippers at a forbidden altar, hands and fingers everywhere. Himashu’s free hand slid down her stomach, tracing the soft curve, then lower—fingers parting her thighs gently, finding the slick heat between. He stroked her folds slowly at first, teasing the swollen clit with feather-light circles, then dipping one finger inside her wetness. She bucked against him, breaking the kiss to gasp his name—”Himashu…”—voice husky, needy. Pawan’s hands joined the assault: one sliding between her ass cheeks from behind, a finger tracing her tight rear entrance while the other pinched and rolled her nipples harder. Two sets of fingers now—Himashu’s plunging deeper, curling to hit that sensitive spot inside; Pawan’s teasing her clit from the front when Himashu shifted. She was soaking, not just from the water—her arousal coating their fingers, the wet sounds of exploration filling the room alongside her escalating moans.