Then she turned slightly away from me, lifted the front of her saree and petticoat together, and slid her panty down her thick, fair thighs. She stepped out of the pale pink panty and quickly adjusted her saree back into place. The entire act was incredibly erotic -- she had removed her undergarments without taking off her saree or blouse.
She handed me the still-warm panty. The crotch area had a visible wet patch and carried the strong, musky scent of her arousal.
"Here..." she whispered, her voice shaky with shame and excitement. "Take them."
I took both items in my hands like sacred offerings. The bra was still carrying the faint perfume of her body and the heavy weight of her large breasts. The panty was damp and fragrant with her pussy juices.
Unable to control myself, I pulled my shorts down right there on the sofa, freeing my rock-hard cock. It was already leaking precum. I wrapped her warm bra around my shaft and used the crotch of her panty to rub against the sensitive head.
Right in front of my mother, I started stroking myself furiously, inhaling the scent of her used panty deeply.
Pallavi stood frozen for a moment, watching her son masturbate with her intimate garments. Her breathing grew heavier. Her nipples were visibly hard under her blouse. Her thighs pressed together tightly.
Seeing her reaction, I groaned, "Ma... look what you do to me... your smell is driving me crazy."
Her hand moved on its own. She sat back down on the sofa, slightly turned towards me, and slowly slid her hand under her saree. I could see the movement of her fingers rubbing her hairy pussy through the fabric as she watched me jerk off with her bra and panty.
Soft moans started escaping her lips. "Yash... this is so wrong... but I can't stop looking..."
Her fingers moved faster under the saree as she rubbed her clit. Her eyes were glued to my cock sliding through her bra. The room filled with the wet sounds of my stroking and her fingers working her wet cunt.
The sight was too much. Within minutes, I groaned loudly and came hard -- thick jets of cum shooting into her bra cups and soaking the fabric while I pressed her panty tightly against my nose.
Almost at the same time, Pallavi gasped, her body jerking as she brought herself to a quick, intense orgasm. Her eyes fluttered shut and a soft "Ahh... Yash..." escaped her lips.
We both sat there panting, looking at each other with raw lust and fresh guilt.
She quickly adjusted her saree and stood up on shaky legs. "This... this can never happen again until our wedding night," she said, though her voice lacked conviction.
I smiled, still holding her cum-soaked bra and panty. "Only two more days, my future wife."
Over the next two days, we prepared quietly. I bought a simple but beautiful gold mangalsutra with black beads -- one that looked traditional yet special. I also got a box of bright red sindoor. Mom, meanwhile, arranged everything else in secret: flowers, a small havan kund setup in the living room, and her old red bridal lehenga that she had kept from her own wedding, carefully preserved.
On the chosen evening -- the third night after the kiss -- the house was dimly lit with diyas and incense. Mom had spent hours getting ready in her room. When she finally stepped out, she caught my breath. She looked like a divine bride.
Pallavi was dressed in a rich red and gold bridal lehenga choli. The heavily embroidered lehenga hugged her wide 40-inch hips perfectly, the dupatta draped modestly over her head and shoulders. Her body had become bustier since her marriage. Her massive 36DD breasts were pushed up by the tight choli, creating deep cleavage that the mangalsutra (still the old one for now) rested in. Her long hair was styled with jasmine flowers, her face glowed with minimal bridal makeup -- kajal-lined eyes, red lipstick on her full lips, and a small bindi. She wore all her gold jewellery -- bangles, earrings, nose ring -- and her hands and feet were covered by intricate mehndi design. The vermillion she usually wore looked even more symbolic tonight.
She looked every bit the beautiful 45-year-old bride -- voluptuous, nervous, and breathtaking.
I was waiting in a simple cream kurta - pajama, with my heart pounding.
We performed a small, private ritual in the living room. No priest, just us. We exchanged garlands. I applied sindoor in her maang while she sat with her head bowed, tears silently falling. The red powder filled the parting of her hair -- a mark that she now belonged to me too. Then, with trembling hands, I removed her old mangalsutra and tied the new one around her neck. The black beads and gold pendant settled between her heavy breasts.
"From today... you are my wife, Pallavi," I whispered.
She looked up at me, eyes shining with emotion. "And you are my husband, Yash."
The simple words sent a surge of lust through me.
------------------------------------------------
The Wedding Night
We moved to the bedroom -- now "our" bedroom for the night. Pallavi had already decorated the bed with rose petals. She lit the scented candles on the side tables, their soft light along with the light from lamps made the room romantic and sacred at the same time.
Mom -- my bride -- stood near the bed, looking shy and anxious like a new bride on her suhaag raat. Her dupatta had slipped slightly, revealing more of her deep cleavage.
I walked to her slowly and lifted her chin. "You are the most beautiful bride I have ever seen, Ma.."
"Don't call me mom tonight. Call me Pallavi" she told putting her finger on my lips.
"I will keep that in mind, Pallavi," I responded looking straight into her lust filled eyes.
She blushed deeply. "This is so wrong... yet it feels so right in this moment."
I pulled her into my arms and kissed her deeply, not like the hesitant restaurant kiss, but a hungry, claiming kiss. Our tongues danced in each other's mouth as my hands roamed over her back, feeling the softness of her waist. She moaned softly into my mouth, her hands clutching my kurta.
I gently unwrapped her dupatta, letting it fall. Then I untied the strings of her choli, revealing her magnificent breasts. They were even more beautiful up close, heavy, slightly sagging with age but full and creamy, with large dark brown erect nipples. I cupped both her boobs in my hands reverently, with my thumbs circling the nipples.
"Ohh... Yash..." she gasped, arching into my touch.
I lowered my head and took one nipple into my mouth, sucking gently at first and then harder. Her hands tangled in my hair as soft moans escaped her. "Beta... ahh... slowly..."
While sucking her breasts, I untied her lehenga. It pooled at her feet, leaving her in just a red petticoat and panty. I pushed the petticoat down too. Now my mother-bride stood almost naked before me covered only by a tiny red lace panty covering thick bush over her pussy.
"I never have worn fancy panties. I bought this red lace panty specially for you Yash, to gift wrap my woman hood and give it you as a present." The words came out of Pallavi's mouth, nearly naked in front of me.
"This is the best present ever, mom." I knelt and slowly pulled the panty down her thick thighs.
Pallavi lied there completely naked before me in all her enchanting glory, adorned with the sacred symbols of our forbidden marriage. Her new mangalsutra rested between her full, heaving breasts, its gold pendant nestled in her deep cleavage, which was a constant reminder that she now belonged to me as my wife. Kajal applied to her eyes, red lipstick over her lips, earrings and nose ring with a small bindi over her forehead made her face look seductive. A fresh, bright streak of red vermilion (sindoor) marked the parting of her hair on her forehead, was glowing like a seal of our union. Her wrists decorated with the red bangles that chimed softly with every trembling breath she took. Her hands and feet were beautifully covered in intricate dark henna patterns, that looked even more erotic against her fair skin as she lied exposed, vulnerable, and breathtakingly beautiful on the very marital bed she shared with my father.
As she parted her thighs, her hairy pussy came into view, the same thick black curly hair I had spied on so many nights, now glistening with arousal. The outer lips of her mature cunt were swollen and slightly parted.
I kissed her soft belly, dipped my tongue into her deep navel, then moved lower. Spreading her milky thighs gently, I buried my face between her legs into her pussy. The musky, tangy scent of her cunt filled my senses. I licked her pussy lips first, tasting her wetness, and then started sucking on her clit.
Pallavi's legs trembled. "Yash... oh God... what are you doing... ahhh... it feels so good..."
Her hands pressed my head deeper as I licked and sucked her hairy pussy with devotion. Within minutes, her body shuddered violently. She came hard on my tongue, moaning my name loudly -- "Yash... my husband... I'm cumming!"
I stood up, removed my clothes, and let her see my rock-hard cock. Pallavi stared at it the same way she had seen it the first time in the hall, with a mix of fear and hunger words came out of her mouth, "Your manhood is thicker and longer than your father's." With trembling hands, she held my dick for the first time as if she was trying to measure it. The sight of her delicate hand with mehndi holding my erection gave me goosebumps. She gave a small peck to my hard dick with her wet lips.
"Go ahead Yash. let's consummate our marriage." With these words she laid herself down on the flower-covered bed and wide opened her thighs to welcome my dick into her pussy. I climbed between her thick thighs, and rubbed my cockhead against her wet, hairy entrance.
"Are you ready, my wife?" I asked, looking into her eyes.
She nodded, biting her lip, fresh tears of guilt and desire mixing. "Make me yours completely, Yash... fill your mother's womb tonight."
With one slow, powerful thrust, I entered her. Her warm, wet, velvety pussy swallowed my cock inch by inch. She was tighter than I expected for a 45-year-old mother of two. We both groaned loudly as I bottomed out inside her, my balls resting against her ass.
I started moving with slow, deep strokes at first, savoring every moment of finally fucking my own mother. Her big breasts bounced with each thrust. I leaned down to kiss her passionately while pounding her hairy cunt.
"Pallavi... you feel so good... so tight around my cock," I growled.
She wrapped her legs around my waist, pulling me deeper. "Loved to hear it, beta... ahh... fuck your mother harder... make me forget everything else!"
Our bodies moved in perfect rhythm. The sound of skin slapping, her moans, and my grunts filled the room. I sucked her breasts, bit her neck gently, and fucked her with increasing speed.
When I felt my orgasm building, I whispered, "I'm going to cum inside you, mom... ohh sorry, my wife..."
"Yes... cum inside me... fill your mother's pussy with your seed!" she cried, her own climax hitting her again.
With a loud groan, I buried myself deep and exploded with my thick hot cum flooding her womb. She clenched her pussy around my cock, milking every drop of cum from it as she too hit her orgasm with me. We collapsed together, sweating and panting.
She kissed my forehead tenderly, even as fresh guilt crept into her eyes. "We are married now... in our own way. But God... what have we done?"
I held her close, my cock still twitching inside her cum-filled pussy. "This is only the beginning, my beautiful wife."