In the quiet hum of their suburban home, Ammu leaned against the kitchen counter, her sharp eyes locking onto her adult son, Arjun, as he returned from the gym. 'You've been flexing those muscles like you own the place, but I know that look—pure trouble,' she quipped with a sly grin. Arjun smirked, stepping closer. 'And you've been wearing that robe like it's armor, Ammu. What's got you so wound up tonight?' Their banter crackled with wit, each word layering tension thicker than the summer air. 'Wound up? Please, I'm just wondering if my big boy can handle a real woman who knows what she wants,' Ammu shot back, her voice husky yet commanding. She wasn't one to yield; she circled him like a predator, her fingers trailing his arm. Arjun's breath hitched. 'Horny much? I see your cock is already hard under those shorts.' Ammu laughed, bold and unapologetic. 'Damn right it is, and my pussy's wet and dripping just thinking about it. Care for a blowjob to start, or are you all talk?' The air grew electric as clothes shed, sweat beading on their skin. She pushed him onto the couch, straddling with fierce grace, her ass grinding against him. 'Panting already? Good—let's make this explosive.' Arjun groaned, hands gripping her hips as she took control, guiding his throbbing cock into her slick heat. They moved in rhythm, bodies slick with sweat, her witty moans mixing with his: 'Fuck, Ammu, you're so tight and wet.' She rode him harder, dripping with desire, until he came hard inside her, cum spilling as they both reached the peak, panting and intertwined in forbidden ecstasy.
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