The charade of a motherly kiss was finally over.Their hands explored each other’s bodies. Yvette had ended up sitting on a kitchen bench, with him s...anding between her legs, grinding himself against her. She could feel his hard-on pressing against her, and Yvette could still remember how wet her vagina had been. She had undone her blouse and then put her son’s hands on her bra covered breasts, encouraging him to squeeze them and play with her nipples through the lacy material of her bra. When. After he was done, he would say to her, “Maja aagaya.” (I enjoyed it).My father was a sex addict. He would come home from work and tell my mom to suck his dick. He would watch item songs of south Indian movies and make my mom masturbate him. Sometimes, he would take an oil massage for his dick. He used to go to the red-light district at times too.He would flirt with waitresses at hotels and take their numbers. But if my mom even spoke to our male neighbour, he would be angry at her. My mom was. More

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