Timmy #21: Prisha's Desire

Prisha’s Desire

The Plan

As we discussed the “hows” of Prisha getting her son between her legs, my cock grew hard again. I picked her up and carried the Indian MILF upstairs to her shower. I had her pressed into the corner of her glass, and white-marble stall, her legs around my sides with her breasts level with my mouth. She dug her fingers into my shoulders for balance, and I sucked her dark nipples between my lips, licking and chewing on her thick nubs as if I could magick some milk out of them.

“Mmm, so, how—ooh—are we going to get my son to fuck me?” Prisha moaned. “I need some incest so much.”

Fuck me.

My cock was on the rise, thickening, swelling, and lengthening, my shaft a bit sore after already coming twice in the day. After catching one of Prisha’s nipples between my teeth and hearing her gasp when I stretched the rubbery nub outward, my cock said, fuck it, and pointed straight up beneath the wet folds of her slippery twat. I lowered her body, letting her crescents of tender flesh graze my knob. I shuddered, she shivered, and her silky folds parted to give my crown a warm, wet kiss made from MILF-lust.

“You gonna fuck me again?” Prisha pouted. “Fuck me while we talk about my son?”

“Maybe,” I said, teasing her hole with my tip. “Does your son know you want to fuck him?” I could have called him “Justin’, but I knew what this MILF wanted to hear.

“I don’t know,” Prisha said. “Maybe. Don’t all of you boys know what we want?”

I rowed her body back and forth, her pussy crease slipping along the tip of my prick. I shivered and squirted a drop of pre-cum into her pink well.

“Maybe,” I said. “With those bikinis you wear at our private mother/son parties.”

Prisha smiled, crimson adding a warm layer to her honey-gold cheeks. “You boys like those?”

I eased Prisha’s pussy over half of my knob.

“Uh,” she moaned, staring me in the eye. “I guess you—uh—do.”

“Whose idea was it to wear the bikinis?”

“We were drinking,” Prisha panted. “It was a dare. The idea belongs to all of us, some of us. I don’t know which mom suggested it first. Mmm, your dick feels good. I don’t—uh—remember.”

I had the head and neck of my hard cock inside her twat while the rest of my shaft swelled with a hot, all-to-stiff ache that needed soothing. Even with the water running over us, I was sure I could feel the runnels of her cunny juices flowing down my shaft.

“Your bikinis are all we talk about at the parties,” I said. “We talk about them at school, fuck, at practice.”

“We see—mmm—you boys staring at our cunts,” Prisha said, panting. “Our cameltoes. It makes us wet.” She bit her lip as another inch of stiffness slid into her muff. “We get drunk and talk—mmm, fuck me—about how much we—oh—want your dicks inside us.”

I moaned and pumped my hips upward, fucking half of my throbbing rod into Prisha’s defenseless pussy. She grunted at the sudden invasion of fuck-meat into her little, warm hole.

“Have you tried to seduce your son yet?” I asked, my cock slipping and sloshing through the bulging lips between Prisha’s inner thighs.

“Mmm,” Prisha said, turning her head and moaning, then looking back at me with a trembling face as I fed her my dick. “I wear—uh—tiny clothes.” She gasped as I pulled her pussy down on my cock hard. “I—uh—hug and kiss him a lot! I try to—uh, uh, uh—get him to cuddle with—oh—me!”

She closed her eyes. I held her by her ass and piston-fucked my prick into her for half a dozen strokes, grunting the entire time, her body shaking from my thrusts. When I backed off, I lifted her so that her cunny lips kissed the tip of my prick again.

“What else?” I asked. “What else do you fucking do?”

“I wear small skirts and no panties while his father is home,” she whispered. “Tight shorts that hug my pussy—they show off my cameltoe. I tease him without letting his father see me doing it.” She shook her head as I slowly pushed my cock back into her until our pubic mounds pressed together. As my cock came to rest in her warm guts, she grunted. “Fuck, I bet you’re bigger than my son.”

“Does it matter?”

“No,” Prisha gasped, shaking her head. “But don’t—fuck—show off in front of him if you are. Please?”

“Never,” I said, heat warming my cheeks. “Does your son notice how you dress?”

Prisha nodded. “He blushes and has a difficult time talking to me when my nipples are hard, or my pussy is showing for him.”

I pulled out of her cunny and pumped back in, the hot water against my skin relaxing my muscles as the heat between Prisha’s legs soothed the ache in my shaft. I fucked her slowly, pushing all the way in and turning my hips in a circle, rubbing her cunny from different angles, before I pulled out and then went back in. Prisha’s breath came quicker and heavier, a soft panting that matched the throbbing pussy hugs across the length of my shaft.

“Has he ever tried to touch you?” I asked, starting to breathe heavily. “Fuck, your pussy is so fucking hot, momma.”

“He hasn’t,” Prisha said. “But after—oh, yeah—the tanning with your—mother!—he doesn’t flinch when I kiss him on the lips goodnight anymore. Oh, fuck, fuck me with that big dick.”