Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Any similarities to persons living or dead is coincidental. All persons depicted in sexual acts are at least 18 years of age and consenting adults. This story involves incest. If you are not comfortable, Please stop reading now. Or else, happy reading :)
English is not my native language, please bear with me.
I'm Kani, from a little dot called Soothupatti, nestled where Kerala's green kisses Tamil Nadu's edge--paddy fields rolling endless, mountains standing guard. Years ago, Father packed me off to America, tearing me from Ma, Patti, my three elder akkas, and four athais when I was just a scrawny kid, too small to argue. Ten years he kept me there--no visits, no homecoming--till their faces blurred into nothing, Ma's most of all, a ghost in my head I couldn't hold. Then COVID-19 crashed in, the world choking on panic, and Father moved fast--embassy calls, a private jet humming, dragging me back to India. Fourteen days I rotted in a Chennai quarantine, sweat and walls closing in, till he fetched me, piling me into a car, the road stretching long through fields shimmering under a brutal sun, pulling me home.
My mind drifted slow, heavy, back to America--school days in a boys-only prison, trapped at Uncle Kumar's place, him an investigative journalist always chasing shadows, leaving me alone in his cold house. One thing kept me breathing--Ms. Cassie. He'd call her over when he vanished, and she'd come, a walking fever I couldn't shake. Afro-American, 5'2" of thick, dusky flesh--curly hair wild like a monsoon storm, skin dark as burnt coffee, glistening with sweat that made my throat catch. She was a mountain of heat--big boobs spilling out, a humongous rear wobbling with every step, a round tummy rolling soft over her waist, all stuffed into house dresses too thin, too tight, hiding nothing. Bra 38K, panties 8XL--I knew every inch because I'd beg to help her--laundry, cooking, gardening--anything to hover close, to watch her nipples poke through, dark and hard, her ass rippling when she climbed a ladder, a steamy sway that burned into my skull.
Her face--broad, full cheeks sagging soft, thick lips parted just enough to tease, eyes sharp but quiet--sat above a neck buried in doughy rolls, sweat pooling there, trickling slow down to that chest. Those boobs--God, massive, sagging heavy--two plump mounds stretching her dress till it groaned, areolas wide and dark peeking when it clung wet, nipples thick as my thumb, jutting out, daring me to stare. Her tummy spilled forward, a plump slab of flesh, dimpled and slick, quivering with every breath, the navel a deep, shadowy pit I ached to sink my tongue into. Hips flared wide, meaty thighs rubbing loud--a wet, horny whisper--leading to that ass, a colossal throne of flesh, two sweaty cheeks wobbling, crack so deep her panties wedged in, outlining every steamy inch. Her scent slammed me--musk, sweat, a ripe tang like overripe mango--choking the air, driving me wild, a twenty-year-old with hormones raging, no girls my age to cool it, just her, clueless to the wreck she made me.
One day, she was in the kitchen, back aching, her voice soft but firm. "Kani, check the laundry basket, na--put my clothes in the machine." That basket--my secret obsession--sat there, a steamy treasure chest I'd never dared touch till now. I stumbled over, heart hammering, legs shaky, peering in--sweaty bras, pungent panties, a lewd hoard of her heat. My fingers trembled, lifting a black bra--38K, damp with her sweat--pressing it to my nose, inhaling deep, her musky scent slamming me, my dick hardening fast, a horny beast waking up. Then a blue panty--8XL, stained--went to my other hand, the sharp whiff of sweat and her ripe vagina aroma dizzying me, my head spinning, gripping the machine to stand. I unbuckled my belt, slow, fumbling, shorts loosening, my six-inch dick springing free--hard, throbbing, desperate. I wrapped the bra around it, soft and slick, inhaling the panty's steamy tang, stroking slow--savouring it, my first taste of a woman's heat, cum building thick, eyes watering, pleasure so raw it hurt.
She walked in--silent, sudden--catching me, bra on my dick, panty to my face. Her curly hair framed her, dress clinging wet, boobs spilling out--cleavage a deep, sweaty trench I drowned in. She stepped closer, ass wobbling, skirt tight, no words, just her heat choking the room. My eyes locked on that massive rear--two meaty globes swaying, a steamy promise--and I lost it, cum spewing hard, soaking the bra, a hot mess dripping as she turned, oblivious, her boobs brushing the doorframe.
