The Mas of Desire

10.1: The Regretful Plea

Hyderabad's morning sun sliced through the curtains, a cruel spotlight on Madhuri's restless form--her bedroom a prison of unspoken lust. She sat on the edge of her bed, fingers trembling over her phone.

Regret gnawed at her soul--she'd pushed the stalker away, craving Ishaan instead, only to drown in deprivation, her pussy aching for a brutal, raw fuck she couldn't dare demand.

Work was a blur--her corporate desk a graveyard of focus, her mind replaying Ishaan's thrusts, his spanks, his smirk as he'd claimed her under Ramesh's name.

She'd typed emails with shaking hands, her thighs clenching under her pants. "He did it first... blindfolded me, broke me and now left me," she muttered, yet, fear held her back--she couldn't ask him to fuck her, terrified he'd take advantage of it later, especially since he'd already taken her blindfolded once, a secret she couldn't confess to Ramesh without breaking his heart.

Her phone buzzed. Ramesh's voice came through, cheerful. "Landed babe. Work's chill here--I should've canceled this trip." He paused, his tone warming. "Ishaan sent me the pics. My colleagues would die of jealousy if they see them, such a bomb you are.. Muuah!"

Madhuri's heart skipped. "Which pics?" she asked, tense.

"Those in your emerald slip dress," he said. "I knew the boy got a good taste. God, I wanna come home soon."

Relief washed over her--Ishaan hadn't sent the others. She exhaled, steadying herself. "I'll be waiting too, honey" she replied.

That evening, she returned home late, drained. Ishaan greeted her at the door, his smile odd, suggestive. "Coming from a photoshoot, Aunty? You look... worked up. Haha, just kidding."

Her cheeks burned with embarrassment. She mumbled a greeting and hurried to her room, avoiding his gaze. In the living room, Abhi sat beside him, staring blankly at the TV, his poker face masking the turmoil of last night's memories.

That night, lost in her thoughts, Madhuri texted the stalker, her desperation spilling out: "I'm begging you, help me have Ishaan. I gave you a blowjob, and you ghosted me with nothing. You owe me this much--help me out."

After a long silence, the stalker replied: "Fine. Wait till morning." Madhuri was left in tormenting expectation.

10.2: The Magical Potion

The next morning, she woke to an open window, a sign of the stalker's entry. On her nightstand sat a small box containing a vial of green liquid labeled with a wolf, a pipette inside. A message popped up: "Memory eraser, the favor you asked. Use it on him--he'll forget the sex, no trouble for you."

She scoffed, texting back: "Don't play with me. How's this supposed to help?"

The stalker's reply was sharp: "Use your brain. Fuck him, and use it on him, he wont remember it. Test it if you don't believe me."

Perplexed, she shot back, "What's that supposed to mean?" Her uncertainty clear.

His reply came: "Test it yourself if you're skeptical. Oh, and it only affects men."

"How do I test it?" she typed, skeptical.

"Mix a few ml in his food or drink. He'll forget those last few hours--depends on the dose. Simple."

"Is this a drug? Is it safe?" she pressed.

"Yeah, but totally safe," he assured.

Hesitant but intrigued, Madhuri thanked him, her trust wavering. Unbeknownst to her, the potion was a ruse--Ishaan had bullied Abhi into playing along, and the pipette's readings were sent straight to Ishaan's phone whenever used.

She took a leave from work, her mind set. She rushed downstairs and announced, "I'm off today, making breakfast. What do you boys want?"

"Idlis, Ma!" Abhi said, eyes on TV.

"Me too, aunty" Ishaan said, his tone teasing. "Two soft, round, plumpy, white idlis." His smirk made her flush, catching his double entendre.

"Sure," she said, heading to the kitchen.

As she prepared the idlis, she pulled out the potion, measuring 35ml of the tasteless liquid and drizzling it over Ishaan's plate.

On a second thought, she decided to test it on Abhi first. She added less than 1ml to a small piece of idli and called him to the kitchen. "Taste this," she said, handing it to him.

Right as he's about to swallow, she pinched his thigh hard. Abhi yelped in pain but quickly masked it after gulping, eyes watering with discomfort, forcing a strained smile as he praised the idlis' flavor.

Madhuri's eyes widened--shocked, thrilled. She texted the stalker: "Thank you. It's working!"

The boys ate, thanking her for the breakfast. Ishaan, playing his part, blinked slowly, rubbing his temples. "Why do I feel strange? Is it morning already?"

"What's wrong, Ishaan? Can't remember anything? What's the last thing you recall?" she asked, feigning worry.

"We were at the photoshoot, and you looked incredible in that green dress," Ishaan said, keeping up the charade.

Madhuri chuckled, convinced the potion had worked, oblivious to Abhi's deception and Ishaan's act cementing her confidence. "You must be exhausted, Ishaan, take some rest. By the way, speaking of the photoshoot, can I check out my photos?" she asked.

"I'm good, Aunty, thank you," Ishaan handed the camera over, then joined Abhi in a video game, lounging lazily.

On the couch, Madhuri scrolled through the camera, deleting every compromising image except a few in the emerald slip dress. "Did you copy these anywhere?" she asked, her voice tight.

Ishaan, eyes on the game, shrugged. "Just sent a few to Uncle. Nothing else."

She sighed, relieved, her fingers trembling as she clutched the camera, believing she'd outmaneuvered him--for now.

10.3: The Submission

Madhuri slipped into the kitchen, her mind buzzing with twisted possibilities for the potion. Her desire was a live wire, and she couldn't wait any longer to test her plan on Ishaan. She poured 3ml of the tasteless green liquid into a glass of juice, intending to give it to him after the act to erase his memory. Tucking the vial away, she steadied her trembling hands.

Taking a deep breath, she stepped out and called to Abhi. "Need some groceries, sweetie," she said, handing him a long list. "Can you go to the supermarket." Abhi nodded, feigning compliance, and left, leaving her alone with Ishaan.

Madhuri had changed into the maroon saree Ishaan picked, its fabric clinging to her curves. She sauntered into the living room, hips swaying seductively, and stood before him. Ishaan was engrossed in Valorant, lounging on the mat, his eyes on the screen. "Need any help, Aunty?" he asked.

She smirked, adjusting her saree to reveal her navel and midriff, tugging her blouse low to expose her V-line, mirroring his teasing from the changing room. "Yeah," she said, her voice low, suggestive.

He glanced at her, feigning shock, and set the controller down, standing. "What's it, Aunty? Tell me. Anything for you," he said, his eyes locking with hers, playing innocent.

Madhuri stepped closer, her smirk widening. "Don't you know what it is?"

He tilted his head, acting confused. "What do you mean? I don't understand."

She scoffed, closing the gap. "Don't play me like your high school girlfriends, I know you want it." Her voice was sharp, confident.

He stood there not moving an inch and asks, "Want what aunty?"

Stepping closer, she took his hand, placing it on her breast over the blouse. "Me. Am I wrong?" Her eyes blazed with lust.

Ishaan's hand stayed still, his face a mask of cluelessness. "Um... I don't know what you're saying, Aunty."

Madhuri's smirk deepened. "Then why's this hard?" Her hand slid to his bulge, rubbing slowly over his track pants.

Ishaan's lips twitched into a smirk. "Because there's a hot woman standing right in front of me."

Her breath grew heavy. "So... what do you wanna do to her?" She undid his belt buckle, her fingers deft.

"I don't know," he teased, his voice low. "You tell me. What does she want?"

"You're a tease, aren't you?" Madhuri replied, unzipping his pants, their eyes locked in a charged stare.

"You're confusing me, Aun--" Ishaan started, but she cut him off, pouncing onto him. "Fuck me!" she demanded, her voice raw.

"What!?" he exclaimed, his pants dropping to the floor, his act of surprise almost convincing.

Her hand stroked his hard dick through his boxers, her other hand's finger hushing his lips. "Ssh, don't shout. You heard me right." She pushed him onto the couch, his body sinking into the cushions.

Ishaan swallowed, still playing innocent. "But... you're my friend's mom. How can I?"

Madhuri leaned over him, her blouse slipping slightly, her voice thick with passion. "So what? Forget that. We're both adults. I like the man in you. From the first day you walked into this house, your charm gripped me. Every flirt, every glance--it made my heart race. I didn't think it'd take this long. Here I am, all for you." She tossed her pallu aside, her body trembling with desire, offering herself completely, her words a fiery confession of pent-up need.

Madhuri knelt before Ishaan, her eyes glinting with a mix of defiance and desire. "This is where you lit my spark, remember?" she said, tying her hair back, her voice low and teasing, hinting at the 3D Twister game they'd played weeks ago, her fingers grazing up his thighs.

"That other day, when you slipped your hand into my pocket..." She paused, her hand brushing his erect cock straining against his boxers. "I felt it then." Slowly, she tugged his underwear down, revealing his thick, raw cock--familiar from the stalker's photos but more imposing in the flesh, pulsing under the living room lights.

Her face lit with excitement as she locked eyes with him, fondling her breasts over her blouse. Holding his dick, she spat on it, stroking, her movements deliberate. "You guys like this?" she murmured, leaning in to lick the tip, then dragging her tongue up the shaft from the bottom like a lollipop, her gaze never leaving his.

Ishaan's cock twitched, and her smirk widened. One hand slipped under her petticoat, rubbing her coochie as she worked him.

Unknown to her, Abhi hadn't gone to the market. He lurked in the backyard, peering through the window, hidden in the shadows, his shorts tenting with a hard boner as he watched, torn between shame and a secret thrill.

Madhuri opened her mouth, taking Ishaan's cock in slowly, her lips wrapping around it, teeth carefully tucked away. She went deeper, his length poking her throat, her muffled breaths filling the air. Ishaan groaned, falling back onto the couch, his hands soon finding her head, pushing her down harder.

She gagged softly, her muffled noises mixing with pleasure as she reveled in his dominance, her pussy growing wetter at the thought of him inside her. The technique she'd honed with the stalker in the backyard fueled her, driving her to please him.

After a few minutes, she pulled back, breathless, and stood, unhooking her blouse and letting it fall. Her petticoat followed, leaving her in just her bra and panties.

Ishaan mirrored her, ripping his shirt off in one swift motion, his muscular frame sending a shiver through her. She climbed onto the couch, straddling him, her legs framing his body, her hands around his neck, her wet pussy hovering just above his throbbing cock.

Their eyes locked. Ishaan tugged one bra cup down, grabbing her breast, his other hand slipping inside her panties to squeeze her ass.

Madhuri flipped her hair to the side, grinding slowly against him, his warm breath grazing her neck, her hard nipples brushing his chest. "You want this, don't you?" she whispered, her voice thick with need, her wet spot rubbing his dick, aching for something wild and deep.

Abhi, outside, muttered to himself, "It's happening," his boner straining, a twisted urge to join them flickering in his mind.

10.4: Feasty Show

Ishaan took control, clicking a button on the couch that flattened it into a bed.

He threw Madhuri onto the soft cushions, landing on top of her, spreading her legs and pinning her hands down. Her breath hitched as he tore her bra off in one rough pull. She instinctively covered her breasts, but he brushed his fingers into her soaked panties, dragging them aside.

Coating his fingers with saliva, he eased them inside her, drawing a moan from her lips.

He pulled his fingers out, unfolding her hands from her breasts and pinning them to the cushion. His cock brushed her clit, pausing for a heartbeat--her body naked, exposed in her own living room, no blindfold, no pretense. "Give it to me," she gasped, her voice raw.

Ishaan thrust into her, hard and deep, her eyes squeezing shut as a loud moan escaped. He fucked her like a beast in missionary, his cock plunging into her pussy, each thrust making wet, sticky sounds that filled the room.

Her body arched, consumed by the raw intensity, as he pounded her relentlessly, no hesitation, no restraint.

Abhi stood frozen outside the living room door, his hand trembling on the knob, an empty shopping bag dangling uselessly at his side. His heart pounded so loudly he was sure it would give him away.

His fear had kept him at bay, but curiosity, or something darker, had finally won. He turned the spare key in the lock, the click loud in his ears, and pushed the door open.

The sight hit him like a punch. His mother, was sprawled on the couch, her body trembling with pleasure, her voice a low, desperate moan. "Don't stop, Ishaan, please..." she gasped, her head thrown back.

Madhuri's eyes flicked toward the door, and she froze, her face draining of color. "Abhi!" she shrieked, shoving Ishaan off her. She scrambled to cover herself, snatching two small throw pillows to shield her chest and lap.

Her cheeks burned red, her gaze dropping to the floor in shame. "What... what are you doing here?"

Abhi slammed the door shut behind him, his voice shaking with feigned anger. "What the hell is going on, Mom? What is this?" He gestured wildly at the scene, his eyes darting between her and Ishaan, who was still lounging on the couch, unbothered.

Madhuri's voice was small, trembling. "Why didn't you go to the supermarket? You said you were going!"

"I forgot my wallet!" Abhi snapped, holding up the spare key like evidence. "I didn't think I'd walk in on... on this!"

Ishaan stood, completely naked, his movements casual, almost mocking. "Relax, Aunty," he said, his voice smooth as he sauntered toward Abhi. He stopped inches away, his eyes glinting with something dangerous.

"You say a word about this to anyone, Abhi, and I'll tell your mom your little secret." He grabbed Abhi's collar, yanking him closer to the couch where Madhuri sat, mortified. "Sit there," Ishaan ordered, pointing to a chair across from them. "And watch."

Madhuri's breath hitched, her hands clutching the pillows tighter. "Ishaan, no," she whispered, her voice cracking. "This is... I can't do this with him here. It's wrong."

Ishaan grinned, leaning closer to her. "Oh, come on, Madhuri. You can if he agrees to it, right?" He turned to Abhi, his tone sharp. "What do you say, Abhi? Should I spill your secret?"

Abhi's heart thundered, his mind racing. He knew what Ishaan was threatening to reveal--the nights he'd lingered outside the door, listening, watching through the curtains, too ashamed to admit what it did to him. "No," he stammered, his voice barely audible. "I'm sorry, I'll... I'll watch."

Madhuri's eyes widened, her breath catching in her throat. "Abhi, what?" she whispered, her voice laced with disbelief. She looked at him, her son, sitting there with fear in his eyes, and her heart sank. "Poor kid," she thought. "He's being blackmailed."

But another thought gnawed at her--"What secret could he be hiding? And why did I always get interrupted when I was so close to losing myself in the moment?"

Ishaan chuckled, turning back to Madhuri. "Problem solved." He fixed Abhi with a stare. "You do exactly what I say, got it? Keep your eyes only on her. Don't look anywhere else, or I'll make sure she knows everything."

Abhi opened his mouth to protest, but Ishaan cut him off. "Shh. Silently watch me fuck your beautiful mom." He reached out, snatching the pillows from Madhuri's grasp, leaving her exposed. Her cheeks flushed crimson, her hands hovering uselessly as she tried to cover herself.

"God," Madhuri whispered, her voice trembling with shame. "Where have I gotten myself stuck?" But a small, desperate part of her clung to the thought: "At least I know a way to erase their memories." But that was later. This was now.

Ishaan leaned in, his breath hot against her ear. "You really want to stop?" he murmured. "If you stop now, you stop forever."

Madhuri's eyes met his, her mind a storm of confusion. She wanted to run away, but her body betrayed her, still tingling from constant let offs. Before she could answer, Ishaan pushed her back onto the couch, pinning her hands to the cushion, his lips finding her nipple, sucking hard. She gasped, torn between the pleasure coursing through her and the duty screaming in her head.

"Look at this," Ishaan said, his voice mocking as he glanced at Abhi. "See how hard your mom's nipples are? That's how much she likes me."

"Stop," Madhuri moaned, but her voice broke, half protest, half plea. Ishaan ignored her, flipping her onto her knees. He pinned her head down to the couch, her hands held to her back with his grip, positioning her in a way that made her face her son.

Her cheek pressed against the fabric, her eyes locked on Abhi's. Then he entered her, hard and unrelenting, each thrust pulling a moan from her lips.

Madhuri's voice was a broken whisper. "Abhi, please... close your... ahh... eyes. Look away."

Ishaan's hand tightened in her hair. "No, Abhi. Look closely. Don't blink. Don't look anywhere else, or I'll tell her everything."

In his mind, Abhi silently thanked Ishaan while giving himself a mental pat on the back.

He'd taken the daring step to open that door, and now he was here, caught in this surreal moment. "I'm sorry, Mom," he said, his voice shaking. "I can't... I have to watch."

Ishaan's pace quickened, Madhuri melted into the pleasure, toes curled, her moans growing louder, her eyes closed, drowning in shame. "My son is watching me," she thought, her heart wrenching as her body gave in, while Abhi silently observed her body move with each thrust.

"Hands off your crotch, Abhi," Ishaan barked, noticing the boy's subtle movements. Abhi hesitated, then obeyed, revealing a small tent in his shorts.

Madhuri's eyes opened wide, a pang of guilt hitting her. "My poor boy, struggling so much," she thought, her heart aching for him, trapped in this nightmare.

Ishaan then turned Madhuri, her ass now facing abhi, spreading her legs and then the cheeks. His hand came down hard, a sharp spank that made her moan, her knees buckling inward. Her skin flushed red, her body trembling as her juices glistened in the dim light.

"Fuck," Abhi muttered under his breath, his eyes locked on the sight of his mother's ass, juices flowing out of her pussy, the way her flesh jiggled with each strike.

Ishaan caught the word, grinning. "You like that, huh?" He leaned closer to Abhi, his voice low. "Spank her."

Abhi froze, his hands clenching. "No, I... I can't."

Ishaan's eyes narrowed, his expression darkening. "Do it, or I spill."

Abhi swallowed hard, his throat dry. He stood, his legs shaking, and approached the couch. His hand hovered over Madhuri's bare skin for the first time, the heat radiating from her body.

Slowly, he pressed his palm against her, feeling the softness, the forbidden warmth. Then, with a trembling hand, he spanked her, the sound sharp in the quiet room.