Imran's eyes snapped to hers, the surprise evident in his gaze. "What do you mean?"

Farzana's smile grew even more knowing as she stood from the bed, smoothing her shalwar kameez.

"What I mean," she began, her eyes glinting with a hint of something wicked, "is that today was just a taste of what we could share." She took a step closer to him, her hand trailing along the bedframe. "But for now, I must go. Your mother will be home soon, and we wouldn't want her to catch us in such a compromising position."

Imran nodded, his mind still reeling from the experience. He watched as Farzana left the room, her hips swaying with a newfound confidence that sent his pulse racing. As he lay there, his body still humming with pleasure, he couldn't help but wonder what other secrets she had in store for them.

With trembling legs, he stumbled to the bathroom, his thoughts a jumbled mess of lust and bewilderment. He stepped into the shower, the hot water cascading over him. Every drop of water that hit him only served to rekindle the fire of desire that had been lit in his soul.

As the soap slid over his skin, he couldn't help but replay the encounter with Aunty Farzana in his mind. The way she had looked at him, the confidence in her touch, and the promise in her voice. It was as if she had unlocked a part of him that had been buried deep, yearning to be set free. He soaped his body, his hand lingering over his sensitive nipples and abs, tracing the path her eyes had taken earlier. He felt his cock stir again, eager for more.

Just as he was about to indulge in his thoughts, the sound of the front door closing jolted him back to reality. His mother was home. Panic surged through him as he quickly rinsed off and stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around his waist. He didn't want to risk her finding him in such a state. He hastily dried himself, trying to compose his breathing, the scent of his arousal still lingering in the steamy air.

As he made his way back to his room, he heard the muffled sounds of his mother and Aunty Farzana's laughter from the living room. His heart thudded in his chest at the thought of what they might be discussing. Had she told his mother? Imran's mind raced with the possibilities of their conversation.

But when he entered the room, their eyes met, and Farzana's smile was as warm and friendly as it had ever been. No hint of their earlier escapade lingered in her gaze. She looked at him as if she hadn't just brought him to the edge of pleasure and beyond.

"Hi Imran, long time no see," she called out, her eyes twinkling with a mischief that sent his pulse racing. "Your mother tells me you're doing so well at college. I'm so proud of you."

He swallowed hard, trying to ignore the way her words seemed to dance around the truth of what had just transpired. "Thanks, Aunty," he replied, his voice strained.

His mother looked at him, her eyes questioning. "Is everything okay, beta?"

Imran nodded, trying to ignore the throb in his loins. "Yes, Mum, just feeling a bit tired after college."

Farzana's eyes danced with amusement. "Why don't you go and rest, beta?" she suggested. "Your mother and I have some catching up to do."

Imran nodded, retreating to his room, his mind racing. He couldn't believe what had just happened. His masturbatory fantasy had come to life in the most unexpected way. He lay back down on the bed, the sheets still warm from his earlier exertion. He could still feel the echoes of Farzana's touch, and his cock began to swell again. He knew he wouldn't be able to get her out of his mind.

A few hours passed, and the smell of his mother's cooking wafted upstairs, mingling with the faint scent of his desire. The aroma of biryani and spiced chicken tikka filled the air, a siren's call to the dining table. Despite the tumult in his thoughts, his stomach rumbled with hunger. He took a deep breath and tried to compose himself. He couldn't let his mother see the turmoil that Farzana had stirred within him. He slipped on a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants, ensuring his arousal was well hidden.

Descending the stairs, he found his mum and dad chatting away in the kitchen, their voices a soothing balm to his frenzied thoughts. They looked up as he entered.

"Ah, there you are," his mother said, a warm smile on her face. "Are you feeling better now, beta?"

Imran nodded, trying to keep his composure. "Much better, thanks." He took a seat at the table, his eyes darting to the clock on the wall. He had just enough time to push the thoughts of Farzana's touch aside before dinner was served.

The meal was a delicious feast, the flavours of the biryani and chicken tikka a delightful distraction from the tumultuous storm raging in his mind. Just as he was about to take a mouthful of his mother’s tasty food, his mother spoke up.

"Imran, darling," she began, her voice as warm and comforting as the spices in the biryani. "Aunty Farzana called while you were resting. She needs a hand moving some furniture around tomorrow morning. Could you possibly go over and help her out?"

Imran's heart skipped a beat. "Of course, Mum," he managed to say, trying to keep his voice steady. "What time does she need me?"

"Oh, she said around 10 AM should be fine," his mother replied, dishing out more food onto his plate. "It won't take long, she's just rearranging some things in her living room."

Imran nodded, his mind racing with thoughts of what might happen when he saw Farzana again. Would they pretend like nothing had occurred? Would she touch him again? The anticipation was almost too much to bear.

After dinner, he found himself sitting with his father, a man who was as stoic and strong as an oak tree, yet gentle in his own way. They talked about college, his father inquiring about his studies and the new friends he'd made. Yet, Imran's thoughts remained fixated on the seductive woman who had brought him such intense pleasure. His father's words blurred into a distant buzz as he replayed Farzana's touch in his mind.

As the night grew darker, the house grew quieter. He knew he needed to escape the suffocating thoughts that consumed him. He glanced at the clock and saw it was approaching 10 PM. "I'm going to bed," he announced, his voice strained. His parents looked up from their own musings, his mother's eyes filled with a knowing smile. "Good night, beta," she said, in her loving voice.

Imran retreated to his room, his mind a whirlwind of emotions. He lay in bed, his thoughts racing as he replayed every moment of his encounter with Farzana. The way she had looked at him, the sound of her breath in his ear, her hand around his cock—it was all too much to bear. His body grew tense with arousal once more, his cock stiffening against the fabric of his pants.

Just then, his phone buzzed on the nightstand, pulling him from his thoughts. He reached over to grab it, his heart pounding in his chest. The screen lit up with a message from Farzana. He swiped open the notification, his eyes scanning the text with a mix of excitement and fear.

"Thinking of our little secret, beta?" it read.

Imran's heart skipped a beat, and his cock twitched at the memory of her voice. He replied, his thumbs trembling slightly. "Yes, Aunty. Can't stop."

There was a pause, and he could almost hear the smirk in her response. "I know, beta. What are you wearing right now?"

He bit his lower lip, his heart racing.

"Just some jogging bottoms and a t-shirt," he typed back, his cock growing harder with every passing moment.

"Take them off for me," she texted, the command in her tone unmistakable.

Imran's breath hitched as he sat up in bed, his hand hovering over his phone. He couldn't believe she was taking this so far, so openly. But the excitement in his veins overrode any shred of doubt. He slipped off his jogging bottoms and t-shirt, his cock springing free, standing at full attention.

"Now what?" he replied, his voice shaking slightly.

"Take a picture," she texted, "and send it to me."

Imran's pulse raced as he held his phone in one hand, his cock in the other. He snapped a quick photo, making sure the lighting cast shadows in all the right places. With trembling fingers, he sent it to Farzana. The anticipation was almost too much to handle.

His phone vibrated again almost immediately. "Magnificent," her text read, followed by a string of kissing emojis. "Now stroke your cock for me, and tell me what you’re thinking ."

Imran felt a thrill run through him as he took his cock in hand, the image of Farzana's beautiful face swimming in his mind. He began to stroke, slowly at first, feeling the heat build in his groin. "I'm thinking about you, Aunty," he typed out, his eyes glazed with lust. "How your hand felt on me earlier."

Farzana's response was swift. "Tell me more," she urged. "I want to know what you liked. What do you want me to do to you?"

Imran's hand moved faster, his breaths growing shallower. "I liked everything," he replied. "The way you touched me, talked to me. It was so... intense."

Her next message was a simple question, but it was loaded with a seductive challenge. "What else do you want, beta?"

Imran's mind raced with the possibilities, his imagination a wildfire of kinks and desires. "I want you to... to suck me," he replied, feeling a blush spread across his cheeks despite the darkness of his room.

"Mm," Farzana texted back, her digital voice a purr. "I'd love that. Tell me, beta, have you ever had a woman's mouth on your cock before?"

Imran's heart thudded against his ribs as he read the words. He had only ever tasted his own pleasure, but the thought of Farzana's lips wrapped around him was more intoxicating than any fantasy he had ever conjured. "No, Aunty," he replied, his voice a mere breath. "But I want it. I want to feel your mouth."

Farzana's response was a teasing smile, sent through the digital medium of a text. "Good boy," she typed. "Now, keep stroking and imagine it's me."

Imran did as he was told, his hand moving with increased vigour. He closed his eyes, picturing Farzana's lips parting as she took him into her mouth. Her eyes locked on his, watching him intently as she sucked and licked, her tongue swirling around the sensitive head of his cock. He could almost feel the warmth, the wetness, the softness of her mouth as he pumped his fist.

"How does that feel, beta?" her text came through, snapping him out of his reverie.

Imran's breath was coming in ragged gasps now, his hand a blur of motion. "It feels... amazing," he replied, his voice strained. "Just like I imagined."

STOP STROKING IT, Farzana's message came through in bold, capital letters. The abruptness of the command was like a slap across the face, jolting him out of his fantasy. His hand froze mid-stroke, his cock pulsing with need.

But Aunty, he protested, his thumb hovering over the screen.

"I know it feels good, beta," she texted back. "But I want to save that for tomorrow. I want you to come to me desperate for release. Think of this as a little teaser of what’s to come.*

Imran’s hand reluctantly left his cock, his body protesting the sudden loss of stimulation. He took a deep breath and composed himself, his thoughts racing. "Okay, Aunty. I’ll try my best."

Farzana’s response was swift. "Good boy. Remember, I’ll be thinking of you. Dream of me."

With those words, Imran felt a shiver of anticipation run down his spine. He knew that the night ahead would be a restless one, filled with the tantalizing promise of what the following morning held. Despite his body's protest, he put his boxer’s back on and lay down on his bed, his mind racing with images of Farzana’s skilled hands and lips on him.

The next morning dawned with a fiery passion that seemed to mirror his own. He woke up with the sunrise, his body tense and ready, his mind reeling from the vivid dreams that had plagued his sleep. He had dreamt of Farzana's seductive whispers and the feel of her soft skin against his own. His cock was rock-hard and begging for release, but he knew he had to wait.

He dragged himself out of bed, the promise of the day weighing heavily on his mind. His body felt alive with the anticipation of what was to come, his every movement suffused with a newfound purpose. He walked into the bathroom, the cool tiles a stark contrast to the heat of his desires. He turned on the shower, letting the hot water wash away the sticky residue of his lustful dreams.

The steaming water cascaded down his body, the heat enveloping him like a warm embrace. He reached for the shaving gel and a fresh blade, feeling a thrill of excitement at the thought of what he was about to do. This was a step further than he had ever taken before, a sign of his complete surrender to the seductive power of Aunty Farzana.

He applied the gel to his cock and balls, the coolness of it a stark contrast to the fire burning within. Carefully, with trembling hands, he began to shave his pubic hair, the razor gliding over his sensitive skin. Each stroke brought him closer to the woman who had claimed him, marked him as hers in a way no one else ever had.

After what felt like an eternity, he emerged from the shower, feeling both vulnerable and strangely powerful. He dried himself off and dressed in a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. He didn’t want to be too obvious, but he needed to be prepared for whatever Farzana had in store for him.

When he arrived at her house, the door was open, and the sound of her laughter filled the air. She was in the living room, surrounded by a mountain of cushions and blankets. She looked up as he entered, her eyes lingering on the bulge in his shorts before she gave him a knowing smile.

"Ah, just in time," she said, her voice a sultry purr. "Let's get to work, shall we?"

Imran's heart raced as he stepped into the room, his eyes drinking in the sight of Farzana. She looked like a goddess amidst the plush pillows and soft fabrics, her eyes gleaming with a mischievous glint. He knew that she had set the scene deliberately, creating a playground for their illicit desires.

"First things first," she said, her eyes never leaving his. She held out her hand, palm up. "Your phone, beta."

Imran's eyes widened for a brief second before he handed it over. She took it, her fingers brushing against his for a brief, electric moment, and placed it on the coffee table. "We don't want any distractions, do we?"

He nodded, his voice catching in his throat. "No, Aunty."

Farzana's smile grew wider as she began to unbutton her kameez, revealing a crimson red lace bra that barely contained her ample breasts. "Good," she said, her voice low and sultry. "Because today is all about us and our little secret."

Imran's eyes widened as he took in the sight before him. Farzana's body was a masterpiece of feminine allure, her curves more intoxicating than any he had ever seen. His cock strained against his shorts, desperate for the touch of the woman who had so easily captured his imagination.

Her hand was warm and firm in his, guiding him through the house. Each step they took up the stairs brought them closer to the moment he had been dreaming of since their encounter in his room. The anticipation was like a drug, making his heart race and his palms sweat.

When they reached the top landing, she led him into a bedroom that smelled faintly of jasmine and musk. The curtains were drawn, casting a soft, sensual light over the rumpled bed, and the sound of a sultry Bollywood tune played softly from a nearby speaker. The room was a testament to her desires, the air thick with the promise of passion.

Farzana released his hand and turned to face him, her eyes smoldering with lust. "Now, beta," she whispered, "it's time to show me how much you've thought about me."

Imran's knees felt like jelly as he stepped closer, his eyes locked onto hers. He reached for her, his hands trembling slightly, and traced the curve of her waist. She gasped softly as his fingertips grazed her bare skin, sending waves of pleasure through her body.

"Can I take it off," he murmured, his voice thick with need.

Farzana's smile grew more wicked, and she nodded.

Imran's hands trembled with excitement as he reached for the hooks of her bra. With a gentle touch, he unclasped it, and the garment fell away, revealing her perfect breasts. Her nipples were hard, begging for his touch, and he didn't disappoint. He cupped them in his palms, feeling their weight, the tips of his fingers grazing the sensitive flesh. Farzana's breath hitched, her eyes never leaving his as she felt his thumbs circle her areolae.

"Mm, that's it," she whispered, leaning into his touch. "Just like that."

Imran's heart raced as he bent down to capture one of her nipples with his mouth, his tongue flicking over the sensitive bud. Farzana's gasp of pleasure was music to his ears as she tangled her hands in his hair, pushing him closer. Her skin was like silk under his lips, her scent intoxicating him, making his cock throb painfully against the fabric of his shorts.

He took her nipple between his...