Esma busied herself in the small kitchen, the sizzling of the dinner ingredients providing a comforting rhythm to her movements. She could feel Murat's gaze on her from the living room, a familiar mix of laziness and mischief emanating from him.
"Mama, your ass looks great in that skirt," he called out, a smirk in his voice. Esma felt her cheeks grow warm, her hands trembling momentarily as she stirred the pot. She muttered "tövbe tövbe" under her breath, trying to shake off the unexpected wave of desire that washed over her.
Murat chuckled, clearly enjoying his mother's discomfort. "Relax, Mama, I'm just messing with you," he said, but his words did little to alleviate the tension in the room.
Esma tried to focus on the dinner, but her mind kept drifting back to Murat's crude remark. She could feel her nipples hardening under her conservative dress, a stark contrast to the heat that was building up between her legs.
Murat got up from the couch, his movements deliberate and calculated. He approached Esma, his eyes locked on her face. "You know you like it, Mama," he whispered in her ear, his breath hot against her skin.
Esma tried to pull away, but Murat's grip was firm. She could feel his erection pressing against her hips, a reminder of the forbidden desires that were bubbling to the surface.
"Stop it, Murat," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. But there was a hint of a smile on her face, a small sign that she was enjoying the attention.
Murat took this as a sign and started to grind against Esma's hips. She tried to pull away again, but Murat's hands were now exploring her body. He cupped her breasts, his thumbs brushing against her nipples through the fabric of her dress.
Esma moaned softly, her resolve crumbling under the onslaught of pleasure. She turned around to face Murat, her hands reaching up to tangle in his hair.
Murat took this as a sign and started to kiss Esma passionately. She responded with equal fervor, her hands exploring his body. Murat's hands were now undoing the buttons of her dress, his movements quick and determined.
Esma helped him, her hands shaking with anticipation. Once she was naked, Murat took a moment to appreciate her body. He complimented her, but Esma knew it was a lie. She joked about his dick size, trying to lighten the mood.
Murat, amused by his mother's joke, started to undress. Esma watched him, her eyes lingering on his muscular body. She felt a pang of desire, her body aching for him.
Once Murat was naked, Esma reached for his dick, hoping to lessen the penetration time. She applied lubrication, her hands shaking. Murat, seeing this, smirked and pulled Esma closer.
Murat, positioning himself, started to enter Esma. She winced at the pain, but Murat didn't stop. He started to pump, his hips moving at a fast pace.
Esma, quiet sobbing with pain, tried to endure it. She muttered "ayy Allah" under her breath, her hands gripping the sheets. Murat, hearing this, started to moan "Annem, Annem" in response.
Esma, feeling the familiar pleasure building up, started to moan "ohhh Oglum Oglum Aslanim". She wrapped her legs around Murat's waist, pulling him closer. Murat, feeling Esma's orgasm, increased his pace, his own orgasm building up.
As they reached their climax, the tension in the room dissipated, replaced by a sense of satisfaction and contentment. Esma and Murat lay in each other's arms, their bodies slick with sweat and pleasure.
End of Chapter One.
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