Mother Son Sex Story – My name’s Meena, a 40-year-old single mother from a modest home in Bhopal. I’m still a looker—long black hair streaked with gray, warm brown skin, big heavy breasts that sag beautifully in my nighties, a thick waist from years of motherhood, and a plump ass that jiggles when I move. My son, Ravi, is 19, a college boy—tall, lean, with messy hair and a body that’s hardened from cricket practice, his youthful energy a stark contrast to my maturity. My husband died a decade ago, and Ravi’s been my world—too close, maybe. I’d let him sleep in my bed sometimes, a habit from his childhood, thinking nothing of it. But on April 20, 2025, letting my jawan beta sleep with me turned into a night of forbidden, hardcore fucking that changed everything.
It was a sticky night, the power out, no fan to cut the heat. Ravi came to my room, shirtless in his boxers, sweat gleaming on his chest. “Ma, it’s too hot in my room, can I sleep here?” he asked, voice low, eyes flicking to my thin cotton nightie—sleeveless, clinging to my big breasts, my nipples faintly visible. I sighed, “Okay, beta, just for tonight,” patting the bed beside me, my motherly instincts blind to the danger. He slid in, too close, his bare leg brushing mine, his breath warm on my neck. I tried to sleep, but my pussy tingled—his presence, his heat, stirring something I’d buried for years.
The clock ticked past midnight, the room dark save for moonlight through the window. I shifted, my nightie riding up, exposing my thighs, my big breasts spilling sideways. “Ma, you’re so soft,” Ravi murmured, half-asleep, his hand landing on my hip—innocent, then not, sliding up to my waist. My heart raced— “Ravi, beta, what are you doing?” I whispered, voice shaky, nipples hardening. He opened his eyes, staring into mine, “I can’t stop, Ma. You’re so fucking hot.” My breath caught—my son, so bold, his words Indian-taboo raw.
I should’ve stopped him, but his hand moved—under my nightie, cupping my big breast, squeezing hard. “Fuck, Ma, these tits are huge,” he growled, voice thick with lust, pulling the nightie off. My breasts bounced free—no bra, heavy, nipples dark and stiff from neglect. He sucked one—hard, biting it—while his hand kneaded the other, rough like a lover, not a son. “Ahh, Ravi, beta, don’t!” I moaned, but my body arched, pussy soaking my panties, a mature woman’s need breaking free. “I have to fuck you, Ma,” he panted, ripping my panties down—my hairy pussy wet, my plump ass trembling under his gaze.
He shed his boxers—his cock sprang out, long, thick, 7 inches of jawan power, pulsing for me. “Shit, Ravi, your cock’s so big,” I gasped, my motherly shock fading into lust. He pushed me flat—legs spread, my pussy dripping, a mother’s forbidden gift. “You’re mine tonight, Ma,” he growled, rubbing his cock against my pussy lips, teasing my clit. “Fuck me, beta, take me!” I begged, voice raw, throwing shame out the window. He thrust in—deep, brutal, filling my tight pussy with one stroke. “Ahh, fuck, it’s stretching me!” I screamed, my walls gripping him, burning with pleasure.
He fucked me—hard, fast, the bed creaking, my big breasts bouncing wildly, my plump ass jiggling. “Take it, Ma, you’re my slut now!” he grunted, pounding me, his balls slapping my thighs. “Ohh, Ravi, fuck your Ma’s pussy, make me young again!” I moaned, nails clawing his back, my Indian motherly moans loud and shameless. He flipped me—doggy-style, my ass up, plump and ripe. “This ass—fuck, it’s perfect,” he said, spanking me—hard, red welts blooming, a son claiming his mother. “Fuck my ass too, beta!” I pleaded, lost in heat.
He spat on my asshole—hot, slick—shoving his cock in, slow then savage. “Fuck, Ma, your ass is tight!” he groaned, fucking me raw, my screams echoing— “Ahh, Ravi, rip my ass apart!” Pain turned to ecstasy, my ass gripping him, his hands grabbing my big breasts, pinching my nipples as I shook beneath him. The room turned into a fuck den—hours of taboo Indian sex. He pulled me to the floor—missionary, legs over his shoulders, pussy pounded deep— “You’re my woman now, Ma,” he panted, my breasts swaying. “Fuck me, beta, I’m yours!” I cried, my body his playground.
We fucked everywhere—kitchen, me bent over the counter, nightie shredded, pussy pounded; bathroom, shower sex, ass fucked under cold water; verandah, me riding him under stars, breasts bouncing— “Fuck me, Ravi, don’t stop!” I screamed. I came—shaking, pussy squirting— “Ohh, beta, I’m cumming!”—he fucked me through it, relentless, then growled, “Where’s my cum, Ma?” “Everywhere—my pussy, my ass, my tits!” I gasped. He erupted—cum flooding my pussy, then my ass cheeks, finally spraying my big breasts, rubbing it in.
We collapsed, sweaty, my body marked—his mother, his lover. “Ma, you’re the best fuck,” he whispered, kissing me. “Ravi, beta, we can’t stop now,” I replied, pussy still throbbing. Power back, parents home, we sneak—quick fucks in my bed, his cock in my pussy, my ass, my mouth—proof a jawan beta shouldn’t sleep with his Ma.