Misc. Erotica The Saint or the Scoundrel

[This story has a small connection with the Durga Puja festival that is celebrated in Bengal and Eastern India in October-November. It has been written to coincide with the festival season.]

Rudra was desperately trying to focus on the computer screen in front of him but the sound was far too loud to be contained by the walls of their tiny apartment. The sound of sex. The sound of his mother being fucked ..

Actually this was nothing new. Ever since he was child growing up with his single mother, having strangers in the house every now and then was not uncommon. Some of them were nice, they would give him sweets. Others would simply ignore him or even glare at him with impatience until his mother would get him out of the way with food or comic books.

Rudra had never known his father. He knew that he had died when he was even smaller and his world was that of he and his mother, Deepannita. Deepa, as she was widely known, worked as a security guard at an all-women's college in central Calcutta. Close proximity to young, college going girls had invested her with an appearance and an attitude that was way above the social milieu that she came from.

Hailing from the Sunderbans area of South Bengal, where many of Calcutta's maid servants come from, she was tall but dusky. But her face -- with large, limpid eyes, a slightly high cheekbone, pouted lips and a firm chin -- was something that few men could ever look away from. Which is why she had been whisked away in her early youth by the raging tides social disharmony and would have ended up in a red-light district of Sonagachi had it not been for an unexpected but fortunate dalliance with an unusual person who had left him with not just the infant Rudra but a toehold with her current employer.

It had been a precarious toehold. Jobs were scarce and she had had to use every resource at her command, including her obvious physical charms, to make sure that she was not dislodged by others. Of course she had other very useful abilities. She was smart, very smart and physically tough -- her ancestors were probably Maratha thugs, commonly known as Borgi, who used to terrorize Bengal but she had also attended martial arts classes -- and could stare down any hooligan who tried to enter the college premises. But the college girls liked her because even though she was twice their age, she would be touching 40 soon, she dressed like them in jeans and would enthusiastically help out with many of the extra-curricular activities in the college.

Her son Rudra was a little different. Shy and introvert, he had just finished school and entered college but he had hardly any friends. Lost in the world of books, computers and the internet -- the one big investment that his mother had made for him -- he was more of a thinker. He was a little tall for his age but rather thin and had a boyish grin that made him look younger than what he was at 18. As a child he had been rather sickly and even though he had outgrown that phase, Deepa was still very protective about him to the extent of having him in her bed till very recently! And it was on that very bed that his mother was being fucked ....

Rudra was old enough to know that there were people -- and that too important people, given the reverence with which his mother treated them -- who would regularly visit their flat and spend hours in his mother's bedroom. If it was not too late, Deepa would try to get Rudra out of the house but otherwise, as was usually the case, Rudra would engage himself with his books in the living room. It was not as if he did not understand what was happening behind the closed doors of his mother's bedroom -- some of these encounters were very noisy ones -- and initially Deepa had tried to rationalise matters. But with the passage of time both mother and son had reconciled themselves to the situation -- which as Deepa had explained, was something that was inevitable if she had to keep her job in the school and provide for a reasonable living for the two of them. Bengal was never a place of great opportunities.

Rudra had never had a bedroom of his own and unless he felt too sleepy and crashed out on the sagging sofa in the living room, he would wait for his mother's guests to leave and then he would get into the only bed in the house, the bed that he had been sharing with his mother ever since he had been infant. It was very natural of course when he was small but then as he grew up and started to read books and browse the internet it he had slowly started to connect the dots. Deepa should have read the signs but then a son is always a kid to his mother. But then again she might have subconsciously reached out to the only one source of love and happiness in that otherwise stressful household. Gradually, innocently and perhaps inevitably mother and son had drawn closer to each other and as Rudra grew older and bigger, Deepa would feel a sense of warmth and comfort when her son hugged her tight in bed -- his hands gently squeezing her tits and then his erection prodding her in her butt!

But today Rudra was desperately trying to focus on the computer screen in front of him but the sound was far too loud to be contained by the walls of their tiny apartment. The sound of sex. The sound of his mother being fucked ....

Mahalaya, that heralds the start of the Durga Puja fortnight, had just got over yesterday and today Mastan was back. Mastan, was a particular lecherous character, who had just won a local election and by virtue of his political clout was appointed as the Chairman of the Governing Body of the College where Deepa worked. His initial idea was to flirt with the young students but he soon realised that you don't mess with the daughters of influential people. After being repeatedly snubbed by the students he discovered that the college security guard was was just as attractive and a lot less protected! Fortunately, Mastan was more often than not busy with his criminal activities in Jharkhand but whenever he was in Calcutta, Deepa had to keep him happy!

What was worse however was that whenever he visited, Deepa seemed rather tensed and distraught. In the past, Rudra had got used to see his freshly fucked mother bidding a polite goodbye to her 'friends' but in the case of Mastan she always seemed too shell shocked and even later when her son would cuddle up to, her useful cheerfulness was always missing.

Mastan was a very noisy fucker, his grunts and groans and cuss words could easily be heard but on that day he seemed to have gone berserk. Deepa had recently bought a new computer with a broadband connection -- something that Rudra had been begging for -- but even then Rudra could not focus on the screen in front as screams and shrieks rang out through the bedroom door. But what was more ominous today was his mother's voice that was almost bordering on alarm.

"Help, help, please help." This was a cry that Rudra could not ignore any longer. He rushed to the bedroom door and kicked it open and what he saw left him stunned in cold horror!

Deepa was hanging in the air. Her arms were tied with ropes that were suspended from the ceiling and her feet were barely touching the floor. Her face was contorted with fear and tears were flowing down her cheeks. Two heavy weights were hanging from clips attached to her nipples making her breasts sag low and a small bottle plastic bottle was protruding out of the thick bush of her pubic hair. But what was most devastating was the a number of red weals that criss-crossed her body where Mastan -- himself stark naked as well -- had slashed her with a whip.

Rudra was paralysed but only for a second. With a bellow of pure rage, he jumped across to the lecher and gave him a solid blow on his chin.

"You get out of this room, you son of a whore." Mastan roared but being drunk out of his wits, Rudra had no difficulty in silencing him with a solid kick on his belly.

After kicking the fellow out the house, Rudra's mind was in a whirl. What if he came back with his thuggish cronies but perhaps he would not be in a state to do so. He rushed back to his mother's room and quickly took her down from the ropes, unclipped the weights from her nipples and gently pulled the plastic bottle out of his mother's cunt. Deepa collapsed on the bed too shaken to even put on her clothes.

"Ma, let me get some lotion for your bruises." Rudra quickly grabbed a wad of cotton, wetted it with Dettol, and started applying it on her wounds. Deepa whimpered in pain as the antiseptic bit into her broken skin and then slowly calmed down as it took effect. Next, he ran to the kitchen and warmed a bowl of milk, poured it into a glass tumbler and came back.

Deepa was lying spread eagled on the bed with a glazed look on her face. Rudra got into the bed and pulled her into his arms, laying her head on his chest and placed the milk on her lips.

"Ma. Please have this milk."

"I am sorry, Rudra." she whispered.

"There is nothing to be sorry about, I understand."

"This fellow will now make my life miserable."

"That is for tomorrow. Tonight you are safe in my arms." Rudra petted his mother with extreme tenderness and slowly, ever so slowly, as she drank the milk that he had brought, he noticed that the tension was draining out her body.

Now that the immediate crisis was over, Rudra cuddled his mother on his chest. Even in the past, they had lain together like this but this was different, she was in the nude and in the dim light of the room Rudra's eyes and then his hands caressed her face, her throat, her chest, her breasts all the way down to her tummy, her navel and then her pubic mound. He did not want to do it but the raw sensuality of circumstances found his fingers feeling their way through the curls of her pubic bush and pressing into the crevice of her cunt. Deepa shivered and a tiny moan slipped out of her lips as she cuddled closer to her son and saviour.

Rudra was in a tizzy. On one hand, this was his mother and on the other she was a beautiful woman lying naked and helpless in his arms. Like a pendulum he swayed between his morals and his hormones but was in no position curb the gigantic erection that was tenting his pajamas. His head bent forward and as his lips were about to touch his mother's, she suddenly opened her mouth and murmured, "My braveheart, my sweetheart."

The dam was broken. Suddenly mother and son were locked in a kiss, that went on and on as they tasted and teased each other with their tongue.

"You OK, ma?"

"Yes kiddo and only because you were here to save me."

"What else could I do? I could not ignore your cry for help."

"Since I cannot thank you for that, I will do something else that you will like," and suddenly she slipped her hands into his pajamas and started stroking his erect prick!

Rudra's world went for a toss as he suddenly found himself kissing his mother with greater urgency, his hand fondling her breasts and her suddenly hardening nipples. He felt his mother's fists shaking and stroking his engorged penis and then with a groan he spurted his cum through her fist and on her tummy and thighs.

"Oh Ma, what have I done?" Suddenly there was a genuine remorse in his voice.

"Look kid, when you and I have only each other to look after, this was bound to happen."

"But is this right? What will people say?"

"This is between us. We couldn't care less about what others say."

"You are my mother, I will go by what you say."

"If you go by what I say, will you promise me something?"

"Anything."

"Then promise not to ever fuck me. Do not penetrate my cunt with your prick. I would beg of you."

"Why beg? Your wish is my command. But may I know why?"

"You may, but not today."

"Then why do you allow these lecherous fuckers to come and fuck you every night."

"I do not have much of a choice and then I do not want to equate them with you, my braveheart."

"But he will be back again and I have to hear you scream while being fucked."

"If you are with me, we will put a stop to that."

"Tell me what to do?"

"Rudra, you know that I have Maratha blood in my veins." There was a sudden hardening in the tone of her voice.

"I have heard you talk about that Borgi ancestor of ours, but why tonight."

"If read the The History of India by the Hon Mountstuart Elphinstone you would know that A Maratha thinks of nothing but the result, and cares little for the means, if he can attain his object. For this purpose he will strain his wits, renounce his pleasures, and hazard his person." [ Chapter IX, the Deccan ]

"So."

"This bastard has screwed me enough and I want to make sure that he regrets it till the end of his life."

That night, mother and son, both naked in each others arms and with the son's semen smeared across his mother's body, hatched a plan to take revenge.

"Where do we start?"

"Did you notice that heavy gold talisman that Mastan wears around his neck?"

"Yes I did. What does it mean?"

"He is very possessive about that. Claims that it is his PranaBhomra, the key to his life."

"What does that mean?"

"From what I have gathered, it contains the passwords to all his secret banking accounts, where he has stashed all the money that he extorts from people or takes as bribes."

"So if we take it away he loses all that money."

"That will kill him, because he runs his empire on money. His thugs don't care for him at all."

"How can we steal it away from him."

"Have you seen the Bangla movie Gandu."

"That pornographic movie ..."

"So you have seen it," Deepa smiled indulgently. "Do you remember the scene where the boy steals money from the purse of the guy who is fucking his mother?"

"You want me to try that next time! But does he ever take it off from his neck?"

"You are right, we need to think this through."

"But will he come back here? After the way I kicked him today?"

"It is not the kick on his balls .. it is the kick on his massive ego that I am scared of."

"So what do we do?"

"I think I will have to go back to him and apologise profusely on your behalf."

"I can come along if you want to. I would not want you to bear his insults."

"Thank you, kiddo but let me try first. I will go to his place tomorrow."

Next evening, when Deepa reached home, Rudra found her to be rather downcast.

"Did you get to meet Mastan?"

"Yes."

"And what did he say? Will he come?"

"Actually he made a counter offer. He wants us to go to his country home during the Pujas."

"Us? I thought he was interested in only you."

"I know, but there is something that I just can't place my fingers on .. there is something fishy."

"Like what?"

"Like I thought that he would be mad at you and demand an apology. But instead he wanted to invite you as well."

"Which is nice. Fun for me, safety for you."

"But these thugs never make things easy for anyone. I am sure there is a catch."

"So do you think that we should stay away?"

"That is not possible and I don't want to. A Maratha-Borgi does not give up so fast," she smiled.

"When do we have to leave?"

"On Ashtami, by the Lalmati Express that leaves Howrah in the morning and reaches Chandil in the afternoon."

"That is less than four days away!"

"I know ... and I have things to do before we leave."

"Do what?"

"Get ourself some insurance." Deepa was at her enigmatic best.

It was just past two in the afternoon when Deepa and Rudra alighted from the Lalmati Express at Chandil. The natural scenery in and around Chandil is unique and enchanting. The tiny town is surrounded by green mountains, hills, streams and rivers on all sides as is the case for most of the Chotanagpur plateau in Jharkhand. Some people say that once upon a time there was a famous temple dedicated to Devi Chandi somewhere in the vicinity but no one seems to know anything about it today.

Mastan had sent a Tata Sumo to pick them up at the station and they followed a rough and dusty road that went past the Chandil Dam on the Subarnarekha River and meandered up the Ghat Roads through the dense deciduous forests that were a part of the Dalma Wildlife sanctuary.

Deepa tried to engage the driver in some conversation, to find something more about the place, but the thuggish fellow would hardly utter a word. She gave up when Rudra quietly pointed out the butt of a handgun that was peeping out of the bag that the driver had by his side. Good God! What had they let themselves into?

After more than two hours of really bumpy roads they came to clearing in the dense forest and turned into a walled compound that had armed guards at the gate. The first shock was that there was hardly any welcome! Two thugs told them to pick up their bags and start walking across the compound.

Deepa looked around and realised that they were in the valley between two hills and the land sloped down towards the the setting sun in the west. The large compound had a number of small huts and buildings where more of these thuggish types were either sitting or loitering around. Deepa and Rudra followed their guide to a small room near the wall with windows that opened out into what were obviously Mastan's private quarters! Through the windows, they could see manicured lawns and water bodies -- perhaps Japanese Gardens -- and a beautiful colonial style bungalow with wide verandahs. Behind the bungalow the land seemed to fall away into the deepest jungle.

"Please freshen up quickly in these bathrooms here. Mastan-ji is waiting for you." The order was a tad too curt for a guest but Deepa and Rudra complied.

The next command was devastating. "Just remove all your clothes and keep them in this bag!"

"What do you mean? You want us to go in naked?"

"That is exactly what Mastan-ji has said and that is what you will do."

"I want to speak to him, right now." The anger in her voice was showing through.

"Shut up and don't ever raise your voice here. You do just what you are told." The menace in the voice was overwhelming and Deepa and Rudra had no option but to obey meekly.

"Give me some privacy at least, I am a woman."

"It is only whores who go in here ... and whores need no privacy." The menace was becoming more and more ugly.

"Ma, I think we do not have a choice."

"Oh, so it is mother and son today," smirked one of the guards but he was silenced by a murderous look from the other.

Rudra was the first to strip naked, giving up his shirt, trousers, shorts and shoes to the first thug who put them into a bag. Deepa followed, pulling off her shirt and jeans and hoping that that her panties and bra will be spared. But there was no such luck.

"Remove all that," the guard pointed at her crotch and her breasts, "and also all you bangles, rings, earrings and hairclips. Everything."

Deepa pulled off her bra and stepped out her panties to reveal a thick bush of pubic hair. She pulled out her bangles and removed the clips from her long hair allowing it to fall across her firm breasts. She placed her hands over her pubic bush.

"Raise your hands above your heads."

Then the senior guard started feeling her body, starting with her head. He ran his fingers through her hair looking for any hidden objects and then, even though, there could not have been anything hidden, he passed his hands over her naked body, feeling her breasts, squeezing her tits, patting her stomach and started groping her cunt. Deepa shrank back.

"What are you doing to my mother?" Rudra had the temerity to ask and was rewarded with an instant slap on his face.

"Keep quiet, Rudra. It is no use." Deepa muttered under her breath, but she was scared stiff as well, especially when the guard poked her in the cunt and then after making her turn around slid his hand through the crack between her butts.

She gave an imperceptible sigh of relief when the thugs were done poking and prodding her naked body and turned to pick up her clothes.

"Hey, who asked to touch anything. You will now go straight as you are into Mastan-ji's house." They opened a door and gestured at them to go out in the garden.

Deepa and Rudra walked out into the finely mown Japanese Grass in the lawn outside and waited for the thugs to join them, but they were already closing the door.

"Our luck ends here," one of them smiled, at last. "You two go to the building and then up to the verandah on the first floor."

"Then waits for Mastan-sir's instructions. Only he and he alone lives there."

Deepa and Rudra almost tiptoed towards the house, not knowing what to do. In fact, Deepa's gait was so stiff that Rudra thought that she must be really scared.

"Ma, have we walked into a trap?"

"Don't worry, we will figure a way out of this." She could barely hide the panic in her voice.

The garden path through which they walked to the house was totally deserted so their state of complete nudity was not yet embarrassing but no sooner did they reach the house when this comfort was removed. Mastan was waiting for them in the verandah.

"Come in, come in. Come into my humble hovel." Mastan was at his sarcastic best. He was wearing a loose, knee length Bermuda-style short but his body was bare. For the first time, Rudra noticed that Mastan's well built torso was covered with a thick mat of body hair and in his hand he was carrying a hunter whip! "God, this is going to be rough tonight." He said to himself.

"This may be your humble hovel, Mastan-ji, but the location is fantastic! What a view of the hills and the forest. Wish I could stay here forever." Deepa was trying to lighten the mood.

"So you like what you see," smiled Mastan, "and so do I, so do I." He ran his hand across her cheeks, down her neck, pushed her long hair that she had carefully arranged on her breasts and tweaked her nipples.

"This are still so soft, we need them to harden soon." He was almost salivating, "and this needs to harden as well," he was fondling Rudra's penis and balls. Involuntarily Rudra step back but was rewarded with a smart tap with the handle of the whip!

"Let us go, we have a lot of things planned for the evening." Mastan put an arm around Deepa's shoulder and led her into the building. The whip in his other hand was gently tapping on Rudra's naked buttocks!

The building was small but opulent and had been evidently furnished by an expensive interior decorator around an erotic theme. A short flight of stairs led them into a private lounge with a bar and a set of comfortable sofas spread around the edge. But what was breathtaking in its imagination were the giant picture posters of a dozen well known Bombay and Tollygunge actresses -- all in the nude and engaged in explicit sex right there in the same lounge itself!

"You will soon be in exalted company, Deepa." Mastan smirked.

"It will indeed be my pleasure to be at your pleasure in these wonderful circumstances." Deepa was trying to play along.

"But you will not be at my pleasure at all!" Mastan sat down on a sofa and pulled Deepa down beside him.

"Then who would it be?"

"Who is the only other person in this room who has a shaft that can be inserted into your lovely cunt?" and he stretched out his legs and started tapping on Rudra's balls with his toes.

"But he is my son!"

"Oh cut the crap ... as if I don't know that he sleeps with you."

"Mastan-ji, please. We have just one bed in just one room but believe me ..."

"That this eighteen year old stud does not push his rod into your warm pussy!"

"What can I say?" Deepa folded her hands in prayer. Her eyes were glistening. Rudra was stunned.

"Well either he is impotent and cannot ejaculate or like my good friend Mohandas he is pretending to experiment with truth -- both of which are very unlikely."

"Please Mastan-ji, stripping my mother in front of me is bad enough. Please do not ask me to dishonour my mother any further."

"You don't have choice kid. You should not have stepped into the room that night."

"I am sorry."

"You kicked and punched me ... and now," he slashed him with one huge crack of the whip. Rudra turned away and took the blow on his thighs ... and it hurt like hell.

"And if you think you can fight me, think again. One little signal and my sidekicks will be here to tear you apart ... and a body thrown into that jungle," he gestured towards the back of the house, "is never seen or heard of again."

"Ok, Mastan-ji, we will do what you want," Deepa chipped in very quietly.

"Ma, I can not do this to you ..." Rudra was still indignant but another sharp crack of whip across his chest cut him off sharply.

"Shut up Rudra. Just do what Mastan-ji wants. Just do it."

"What? Fuck you? in front of him?"

"Oh ho, not so fast. You need to do it slow and easy ... so that I can get into my mood for my fuck!"

"So that is the game plan," said Deepa to herself. "Mastan-ji, please forgive my son. He will do exactly what you tell him to."

"The first thing that I want to see is his erection. Come, come closer to me." Rudra inched forward and Mastan took started feeling his shrivelled balls with his palms.

"This will not do, Rudra babu ... this will never slide into your mother's cunt." He stroked Rudra's penis but given the kind of tension that the boy was under, it remained flaccid.

"Please Mastan-ji, that boy is scared. He is terrified."

"Then it is up to you, his mother, to give him some comfort. Make that dead frog at his crotch jump up again."

"Come here Rudra," she gestured and made him kneel on the ground in front of him, "and put you face here." She held her son's head and pushed it gently into her pubic bush. "Now start licking me there ... first slowly .. slowly and then faster."

"Hang on, hang on. This give me an idea. I don't like all that hair on your cunt. We need to first shave it clean."

"I will ask Rudra to do it for you." There was a little urgency in Deepa's voice.

"Good. Go and get the shaving stuff from the bathroom."

"You want me to shave here! Will it not cause a mess."

"No, no, no .. it will be fun, watching your son shaving your hairy cunt."

Rudra got all the equipment, including a mug of water and lathered up Deepa pubic area and she lay down on the floor. Then very gently and carefully Rudra started to shave his mother's pubis. Mastan watched him closely and gave specific directions. Finally, after Rudra had washed off all the mess and patted the pubis dry with a towel, Mastan called Deepa in front of him and ran his hands over the smooth swell of her mons pubis. A very slight shiver rippled through Deepa's body and Mastan-ji caught on right away.

"Ah ha .. that must be feeling good. Now turn around and bend over." He ran his finger into the puckered hole of her anus and jiggled it. Deepa jumped away and coyly turned around. "Please Mastan-ji, come to bed with me."

"I will, I will but first I need your son to get my cock up .. hard and stiff but for that you have to get his cock up ... hard and stiff first. Get going." He ordered.

"Sure, let me get him on his back first." She pushed her son on the ground until he was flat on his back, spread his legs and placed her face in his crotch. Rudra's balls were not too small but his penis had really shrivelled up until it was just big as one of his toes -- and just as inert.

Deepa took it between her fingers and pulled back the foreskin until the glans or the helmet was visible and flicked her tongue along the slit. Rudra body jerked as he felt a pulse of pleasure and a tiny moan escaped from his lips.

"Your mother is an excellent cock-sucker, kid." Mastan-ji opined.

Deepa was now working hard on her son's genitals. Lying on her belly on the floor between his legs, she was now kneading his balls while sucking and licking the shaft of the penis ... and this was having the desired effect. She felt a slight but sudden hardening of the organ and shouted out an encouragement. "You are getting bigger and bigger, Rudra."

But was Rudra listening? Perhaps he was, because his chest had started to heave but then again perhaps he was too embarrassed to have his penis licked by his mother in public! The guilt, the shame and the fear were negating whatever sexual excitement his mother was trying to build up in him.

"Come on Rudra, come on .. you will have to fuck me now, fuck me, fuck your mother." Deepa exhorted her son.

"I can't Ma, I can't .. don't you remember what you made me promise."

"Don't worry about that promise! Come on ... relax. Have fun."

"No Ma .. I cannot do it." and suddenly he turned sideways and pulled his penis away from his mother's face. "I cannot have sex with you like this."

"Then you will have this whip." Mastan's hand rose and fell and Rudra felt a slash across his body. He could have tolerated more of this but the next slash fell across Deepa's bare back and she gave a howl of pain.

"Please, please Mastan-ji, don't whip us ... I will have my son fuck me in front of you very soon."

"No you won't mother."

"You just shut up," thundered Deepa. Then she turned to Mastan. "Mastan-ji, can we use a bed?"

"Yes, why?"

"If it is a little more comfortable, it will be easier to get my son into the right mood."

"OK. Let us go into that room. There is a bed in there."

The lounge opened out into a lovely boudoir and had it not been for the dire straits that they were in, Deepa would have been delighted to be there. Large windows opened out on two sides and the sun was setting behind the darkening hills. But mother and son had no time to enjoy the scenery. They quickly located the huge four poster bed with its white satin sheets and climbed in.

Mastan poured himself a large peg from an expensive looking bottle of whisky and settled himself into a deep sofa to enjoy the evening.

"Don't panic kiddo," Deepa comforted her son. "Forget about me as your mother. Think that I am your girlfriend."

"Never really had one," Rudra smiled weakly.

"Then think of me as Priyanaka Chopra or Vidya Balan .. who is naked in the bed with you."

"Thats better."

"I can see that, and feel it ... as well." Deepa was playing with her son's prick and it was hardening in her hands.

"Ma, do I have to really fuck you?"

"Kid, when there really is no alternative, why don't you just lie back and enjoy a damn good fuck." She had to loosen him up.

"How would you want to do it?"

"You like back on the bed and let me climb up upon you."

"Ah the woman on top style. That is good." Mastan chipped in.

Deepa pushed Rudra on his back, spread his legs, raised his knees and sat on her haunches between his legs. Then she bent down and started licking his navel. Rudra shivered.

"Come on my stud," Deepa whispered and slowly started moving her lips up his body, across his belly, his chest, his neck, his lips. She kissed his lips, pressed her tongue into his mouth and then moved her lips to his ears.

"You need to distract him, now," her whisper was barely audible. "Start groaning and use some choicest abuses."

"I can't."

"You have to," she hissed!

"Ahh aaa ...." Rudra moaned loudly and Deepa replied with her own squeal.

Suddenly Rudra grabbed his mother hair and pressed her face into his own. "Ma, you are a whore, let me fuck you your cunt."

"Yes, sonny, let me have your prick in my pussy." Deepa jerked up and stretched her body backward. She was sitting on her son's crotch and jerking up and down, making her big tits bounce and dance. Rudra reached forward and grabbed her tits, squeezing them again and again.

"Fuck you Ma, fuck you my whore, I shall fuck you like my father never did." Rudra screamed.

"Give me you prick, push it into my cunt." Deepa answered and started bobbing up and down on her haunches. Her hands were at her crotch pressing her son's penis into her but then something else happened.

Neither of the men in the room, titillated as they were with the sights and sounds of sex, noticed it but in one of the bounces a little white object slid out of Deepa's vagina and before anyone could know of it she had hidden it among the bed sheets of the giant bed.

It all happened in a jiffy but even then Deepa gave a loud squeal of pleasure and crashed down on her son. For the next couple of minutes mother and son thrashed around on each other's naked bodies shouting obscenities laced with grunts, groans, squeals and shouts as Deepa crushed her pelvis into her son's crotch.

Rudra was by now genuinely excited -- and who wouldn't be if a naked woman was pressing her boobs into your face! Deepa too could feel the pressure of his erection poking and prodding into her cunt. She felt her son's hand on her tits, squeezing them as they bounced and jiggled in front of his face and she reached down at her crotch and pulled his penis until it was poised at the entrance of her vagina. It was stiff, hard, thick and wet with her own cunt juice and as she played with it she heard Mastan scream. "Shove it in you whore."

She did. With one big downward thrust she pressed her son's engorged penis into her vagina and Rudra gave a shout of pleasure as he felt his stiffness sliding into the slippery warmth of his mother's womb! Now it was his turn to to buck and thrust. As his mother bounced on his belly, he could feel his rock hard penis sliding in and out .. and suddenly he felt a tightening of his balls as his body prepared for the inevitable ejaculation.

"I am coming ..." he yelled and just as Deepa was preparing to have her innards sprayed with her son's cum, she heard a bellow from Mastan, "No you will not."

Deepa suddenly found herself being grabbed by her armpits and pulled away so that Rudra's erection slid out of her cunt.

"What the fuck?" she sputtered and saw that Mastan was in a terrific state of excitement. He was naked, his eyes were bloodshot from the whisky that he had been drinking and his erection seemed to be as massive as Subway foot-long sandwich!

"Enough of pleasure for that mother fucker," he roared, "Now I will fuck you, you bitch."

"Yes, yes .." muttered Deepa trying to gather her wits around her. "Get off the bed," she yelled at Rudra.

"Yes get out of the room, you bastard," yelled Mastan and a terrified Rudra was only too happy to oblige. With his rapidly shrinking penis, he quietly climbed out of the bed and ran out to the lounge leaving his naked mother Deepa alone with the naked Mastan on the bed.

Mastan pushed Deepa on the bed and climbed on top of her and Deepa watched in horror as his massive penis pushed against her clean shaven pussy. But big as it was, it was unfortunately not stiff enough to actually push into her cunt. Mastan cursed and grunted but his erect penis was bent and twisted around and would not go in. He bellowed with rage.

"Mastan-ji, may I please help you," Deepa suggested fearfully.

"I want to fuck you, you whore," thundered Mastan but the whisky slurred his tongue.

"Relax Mastan-ji, just relax on the bed and let me climb on top of you."

"OK." Grunted the rascal.

Deepa wriggled out from beneath that hulk and gently pushed the drunken maniac on his back on the bed. Then she climbed on top of his belly. Once again, she felt his giant but by now flaccid penis pushing against her cunt.

"Look at me, my sher, my lion," she said in her most seductive dulcet. She tossed her mane of hair and pressed her own breasts. "Will you not squeeze these for me."

"Of course I will," screamed Mastan and reached out to catch the hanging globes and Deepa obligingly bent forward to press them into his arms. She felt his penis harden with excitement and she reached down to align it against her cunt. Then she quickly pressed down and pulled that giant member into her body. Slowly she started moving up and down and felt Mastan's erection sliding and in out of her cunt. Mastan was screaming with pleasure.

Deepa lips were now on Mastan's lips, her tongue sliding into his mouth. She could feel the taste of whisky on her lips but her hands were now under his pillow and searching for that little gadget that she had smuggled in, in her cunt!

For a moment she panicked as her fingers groped around in emptiness and then her right hand closed around it and she pulled it out .... and it was a cellphone!

Mastan's penis was still embedded inside Deepa and her constant bouncing had made it hard and erect. He was gurgling incoherently with pleasure as he too could feel the pressure building up in his groin. On his chest, he could see the lovely Deepa, with her powerful body all wet with sweat, heaving and thrashing in total abandon. On his face he could feel her lips, her tongue slobbering him with her saliva and of course he could feel the grip that her vagina had on his erect penis ... but what he did not see or could not see was that the cellphone in her right hand had clicked open into a knife with a vicious 6 inch blade ...

What he did not see either was how Deepa powerful arm muscles, the ones that she had honed to perfection in her martial arts classes, were tightening with anger and loathing into a mighty scythe that in the very next unleashed itself in a swinging arc that flashed across his startled field of vision and sliced through the muscles of his neck!!

He started to scream ... but was cut off after that first second as blood started gurgling out of his slashed neck!​