I woke up late; the clock ticked 9:00 AM, and my body was heavy with the aftermath of last night’s fuck fest. The room reeked of raw sex, Mallika’s musky juices, my cum, and the sharp perfume of lube lingering in the air. She was gone, her hotness missing from my bed; however, her black thong still hung around my neck like a trophy. I brought it to my nose, taking a deep sniff. The scent of her pussy hit me like cocaine; it made my cock twitch. Her bra and silk nightgown were gone, and so was the condom. Mallika had cleaned up her tracks, but the bed was a mess of her sweat and our lust; the sheets screamed the evidence of our fucking. I moved my hand on it softly in pure admiration. Wow.

My dad, Sanjay, was now back. I could hear his low voice and Mallika’s softer tone. I got out of bed, the thong still around my neck. I took it off and quickly put it in my drawer, then freshened up. I threw on a t-shirt and jeans and headed to the living room.

Mallika stood there in a modest pink pyjama set, the loose fabric hiding her curves, but I could still picture her naked, her huge tits bouncing as she rode me. Sanjay, my dad, was sitting at the dining table, eating his breakfast, his middle-aged frame relaxed, his eyes scanning the room.

“Morning, Dad,” I said, my voice casual. Then I turned to Mallika.

“Morning…”

The word carried a hidden edge to our night.

“Morning, Vihaan,” she replied, her eyes blinking with a shared secret.

Sanjay smiled.

“How was the trip, Dad?” I asked, leaning against the counter, my gaze checking out Mallika’s ass.

“Great, son. Business went smoothly,” he said. Then he frowned, noticing the broken vase in the corner.

“What happened here?”

Mallika didn’t miss a beat.

“I tripped, Sanjay. I don’t know how. Might’ve bruised my hips a little bit. I’m gonna rest today.”

Her eyes searched mine, and our memory refreshed: our hallway collision, my cock pressing against her, the vase shattering as we laughed and fucked our way to my room. My dick throbbed at the memory, and I shifted to hide it.

I moved to help her with breakfast, chopping vegetables beside her, our hands brushing against each other deliberately as we worked. Sanjay watched us, his brow rising slightly.

“You two seem… different. What’d you do over the weekend?”

Mallika and I locked eyes, a flood of images flashing between us: her sucking my cock, me spitting on her asshole, her cumming six times as I pounded her, her swallowing my cum, us saying I love you. We burst out laughing, the sound too loud.

“We binge-watched Shameless all weekend,” I said, grinning.

She nodded, biting her lip to suppress a smirk.

“Oh yeah, so funny. Kept us up all night.”

Her voice dripped with secret, and my cock twitched in my shorts, knowing what she meant.

Sanjay chuckled, clearly left out but pleased.

“That’s great. You two are bonding. Nice. Very nice.”

He leaned back.

“How about dinner tonight? My treat.”

“No!” we said in unison. Then we laughed again, our shared secret binding us together.

Sanjay raised an eyebrow and smiled.

“What’s so funny?”

“We joined a gym together, Dad,” I said, my tone casual. “No junk food for us. Gotta stay fit.”

Mallika nodded, her voice playful.

“Yeah, we’re on a transformation journey, Sanjay. He needs it bad. I’m… well, I’m perfect, right?”

She smiled, but my dad jumped in, his voice warm with care.

“You’re perfect, Mal. Vihaan, yeah, you could use some bulk. You sure about this, Mal? Gym’s intense.”

She shrugged.

“I’m sure. I need to lose some belly fat. But maybe we’ll compromise tonight, salad, so we can still eat clean but enjoy a meal together.”

“Sounds good,” Sanjay said, impressed but clueless. I glanced at the clock. 10:30 AM. Shit, I was late for college.

“Fuck, I am late for college,” I said.

“Go get ready then,” my dad said.

“Honey, I’m off for a bath,” she said to my dad. I heard it from behind. I imagined her naked under the shower, water streaming over her full tits, her fingers slipping to her pussy, thinking of me.

I got into my bathroom. The cold shower sprayed over my body, and as I applied shower gel, my hands moved to my cock. As I rubbed my flaccid cock along with soap, memories of Mallika’s moans, those raw, desperate cries as she sucked my cock and swallowed my cum, flashed through my mind, making me rock-hard again. Her moans, the way her full lips stretched around my thickness, her pussy gushing around me… fuck, it was too much. My cock demanded release. A filthy idea sparked in my mind, so I grabbed my iPhone, heart pounding with reckless lust.

I opened FaceTime and called Mallika, knowing she was probably in her own bathroom, soaking in the tub. The call rang once, then cut off; she had hung up. I called again, a smirk playing on my lips. This time, she answered. Her face appeared on the screen, her eyes wide with a mix of caution and seriousness.

“No, Vihaan,” she whispered, her voice low, barely audible over the sound of her bathwater.

She was alone, the door locked, but Dad’s voice could be heard faintly from the living room; it was a danger sign. I didn’t show my face at all; instead, I angled the phone down, letting the camera capture my hard, soap-slicked cock under the shower’s spray, all veiny, oozing precum.

Mallika’s eyes were locked onto the screen, her lips parting in silent awe. She blushed as she stared at my throbbing dick. She muted her mic and speaker, her eyes not leaving the sight of my cock, knowing Dad could overhear any sound. So I brought the phone closer and blew a teasing kiss at the screen. Mallika bit her lip, suppressing a laugh, and she returned a playful flying kiss.

Then I propped the phone on a corner shelf, the front camera angled to show me perfectly in full: my lean, wet muscles, my cock standing. I grabbed the lube from the counter, squirting a thick stream onto my cock, the slickness mixing with the water, making a cocktail. And I started stroking, slow, my hand gliding from base to tip.

“Look at this cock, Mommy,” I mouthed silently, knowing she could read my lips.

On the other side, Mallika bit her lip, her body submerged in the warm bathwater, her 36D breasts floating just above the surface, showing her nipples as she watched me stroke. She was still aching between her legs from last night’s brutal fucking, but the sight of my lubed cock ignited a fresh wave of horniness. She couldn’t just sit there and watch; her pussy demanded attention, too.

She propped her phone against the tub’s edge, angling it to show her face and her spread legs, her shaved pussy under the water. Her fingers trailed down, brushing her swollen clit, still tender from last night’s sex. She rubbed herself slowly, her lustful eyes locked on my stroking hand.

I, on the other side, cupped my heavy balls with my other hand, massaging them as I pumped my cock. The sight made Mallika’s breath skip. She bit her lip harder, her fingers moving faster. She then went up close to the camera, showing only her pussy lips in a close-up shot, then pushed one finger inside her pussy, showing her pink inner walls to my full screen.

“Fuck,” I said softly.

If I had just kept watching this beautiful sight, her finger entering her hole- I would have cum without touching myself. I then also zoomed the camera in, showing my cock in close-up, making sure it showed my thick shaft moving up and down, and precum beading at the tip.

I held up one finger, signalling the start of our dirty fucking game. Mallika mirrored me, raising one finger, her own finger plunging deeper into her pussy, her hips moving subtly in the water.

Then we moved to two fingers. I was stroking faster, while Mallika added a second finger, stretching her sore pussy, her face contorting with pleasure and pain.

“Three, Mommy,” I mouthed, holding up three fingers, my cock throbbing as I was just about to cum.

Mallika matched me, pushing a third finger into her tight cunt, her lips parting in a silent moan, her body trembling as she fucked herself hard.

We then locked eyes through the screen; our silent connection was electric, and at the same moment, we came. I erupted, my thick strings of cum shooting onto the shower floor, which was immediately washed away by the water. Mallika’s pussy pulsed, her juices coating her three fingers as her body shook with the aftermath.

We stared at each other through the phone, panting silently, then kissed on the screen virtually. Mallika’s eyes smiled with love and lust, and I mouthed,

“You’re mine, baby,” she nodded, blowing another flying kiss before ending the call.

I stepped out of the shower, my body still tingling from the sexy FaceTime with Mallika. I threw on a t-shirt and jeans, opened my drawer for a notebook, and spotted her black thong among my things. I grabbed it, inhaling deeply one more time, then stuffed it into my pocket, a dirty secret to carry with me. I headed out for college.

***

At lunch hour, my phone buzzed in my pocket. It was Mallika.

Mallika: Hi, you there?

Me: Yeah, just chilling at college. You good?

Mallika: Yes. Had your lunch?

Me: Not yet, thinking Subway. What about you?

Mallika: Yeah, we had lunch. Your dad’s hovering, you know.

Mallika: What should you wear to dinner tonight?

Me: Something skimpy, please

Mallika: Haha, you know I can’t, naughty boy.

Me: Then whatever you want, but you know what? Wear that red thong.

Mallika: Uhm… ok.

Mallika: I’m missing you, baby.

Me: I’ll be back by 4. Can’t wait to see you.

Mallika: Ok

Me: What are you wearing now?

Mallika: Just regular stuff. Your dad’s home, you know.

Me: Show me.

A few minutes passed, and my phone lit up with a photo. Mallika’s selfie showed her hand slipped under her pyjama top, cupping one of her 36D breasts, the outline of her nipple teasing through the fabric. My cock stirred instantly, straining against my jeans.

Me: What the fuck. I’m in college, and you’re sending me this?

Mallika: Haha, it’s NSFW-safe, baby.

Another photo landed: her thick ass in those loose pyjamas, the curve of her round ass cheeks taunting me. My dick was rock-hard now, throbbing in my pants.

Me: You’re fucking killing me, you tease.

Then came another image: her hand inside her pyjama bottoms, cupping her pussy, the fabric stretched tight over her fingers. My pulse raced; my cock begged for release.

Me: You’re so fucking dirty, Mommy. Teasing me in public like that.

I couldn’t take it. I rushed to the college restroom, locking myself in a stall, my heart pounding with a mix of fear and excitement. I unzipped my jeans, freeing my cock, and snapped a quick pic of its hard, veiny length, then sent it to her.

Me: Look where my naughty Mommy got me.

Mallika: Haha, my bad boy, jerking off in a bathroom stall?

Mallika: Wanna see more?

Me: Fuck yes, baby.

Another photo came through. Mallika had tucked her top up, revealing the creamy underboob; her pyjamas pulled down to show her panty line, just enough to catch a glimpse of her covered pussy. My cock throbbed harder, precum beading at the tip, and I started stroking.

Me: Fuck, Mommy, I’m so hard. If you keep sending shit like that, I’m gonna ditch class to cum all day.

I sent her a close-up of my dick, hard and glistening, precum oozing out, my hand wrapped around it.

Mallika: I don’t care, you horny boy.

Her next photo hit like a punch in my gut. Her naked ass: she had pulled her panties down, her juicy cheeks spread to show her unbothered curve, trying to hide the slick lips of her pussy. My breath skipped, and I started stroking harder; the thrill of being in a public stall made it dirtier.

Me: Oh, damn it, you’re so filthy, baby. Showing me that ass? I’m stroking so fucking hard right now.

Another image loaded: Mallika topless, her hands cupping her massive tits, hiding her nipples in a teasing hand-bra, her cleavage deep and inviting. My cock pulsed in my hand, and her black thong now fell out of my pocket.

Me: Oh fucking God, Mommy, I’m gonna fuck those tits so hard someday.

I picked up the thong from the floor immediately and hung it on my cock like a hook, the fabric still scented with her dry pussy juice. I snapped a pic and sent it.

Me: Remember this, you naughty bitch?

Mallika: What the fuck, you took my thong to college? You’re such a dirty boy, Vihaan!

Her next photo was pure sin: Mallika sucking her own nipple, her tongue touching over the pink bud, her eyes locked on the camera with raw hunger. My hand moved faster; the thong’s lace rubbed my cock, intensifying every stroke.

Me: Stop it, Mommy, I can’t fucking take it. I’m gonna cum right here.

Her final image was a knockout: her face close to the camera, eyes screaming with slutty desire, her tongue lolling out like a pornstar begging for a load, her massive tits pushed up to show her deep cleavage.

Mallika: Come on, baby, cum for me. Cum on Mommy’s face. Give me that fucking money shot.

I lost it. My cock erupted, thick ropes of cum splattering the stall door, the thong still wrapped around my shaft like a pussy gripping me tight. I snapped a quick pic of the mess dripping down the door and sent it as proof.

Me: Look at that, Mommy. Your slutty face made me cum all over this stall.

Mallika: Good job, you dirty boy.

Mallika: Leave it like that. Let someone find your cum.

Me: Fuck, you’re nasty. Done.

I cleaned my cock with toilet paper, the thong still damp with her scent and my cum. Then a dirtier idea hit. I wanted her with me always, so I carefully wrapped the thong around my semi-hard cock like a string, not too tight, just enough, letting it hug my shaft like a cock ring. I pulled up my boxers, the black lace a secret against my skin, and snapped a pic of my cock nested in her thong.

Me: Look, baby. I’m gonna keep you with me, always.

Mallika: WTF, you kinky fucker, wearing a thong like that?

Me: I love you.

Mallika: I love you too, baby.

I zipped up the thong’s lace, a constant reminder of her; my cock twitched at the thought of her pussy as I headed back to class, our forbidden connection burning hotter than ever.

***

I got home around 4:00 PM. Sanjay, my dad, was already there, resting on the couch, flipping through his phone.

“Hey, son,” he greeted, oblivious to the thoughts racing through my mind: Mallika’s pussy, her cum-soaked thong, her slutty selfies. I nodded a quick hello and crashed in my room for a couple of hours. The scent of her still lingered in my bed, her thong wrapped around my cock, twitching every time I shifted.

By 6:00 PM, Mallika and I headed to the gym. She wore tight black gym shorts that hugged her thick thighs and juicy ass like a second skin, her sports bra barely containing her 36D tits. In the car, she was pure sex, acting like a naughty girlfriend. She grabbed my hand, intermingling her fingers with mine as I drove.

“You’re gonna love watching me work out, right?” she purred, her voice low and teasing.

I grinned, my grip tightening on the wheel.

“Fuck, don’t start. I’m already horny just looking at you.”

She laughed, leaning over to brush her lips against my ear, her breath hot.

“Good. Keep that dick ready for me.”

At the gym, Mallika was a goddamn vision, every move calculated to drive me wild. She squatted in front of me, her ass pushing out, the leggings outlining every curve, as she screamed,

“Like the view, baby?”

She caught my eye in the mirror as she did butterfly presses, her hands spread, her breasts pushing out of her sports bra. During side leg raises, her hips lifted, her abs flexing, sweat shining on her cleavage, dripping down her chubby tummy. I knew for a fact that her sweaty, curvy body was pure porn.

On the drive back, she teased me mercilessly, her hand resting on my thigh, close to my crotch.

“You must be so fucking hard right now, huh, baby?” she said, her voice sultry, her fingers brushing my bulge.

I shook my head, laughing to cover the heat in my body.

“Don’t remind me. Stop. You’re gonna kill me.”

She smirked, leaning closer.

“Are you still wearing my thong, you dirty boy?”

“Always,” I growled, my cock throbbing at the thought of her pussy-scented lace hugging my shaft.

She bit her lip, and I knew we were both counting the minutes to steal another moment.

Dinner with my dad was lame, just the three of us at a quiet restaurant, eating salads to stick to our “gym diet.” But Mallika kept the fire burning. She “accidentally” dropped her fork, bending over right in front of me to pick it up, her low-rise jeans slipping just enough to reveal the whale tail of her red thong, which I asked her to wear.

I now realise that I shouldn’t have done that.

As the...