My Surrogate Dad
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by DesiDreamer · December 6, 2025

IN PICS: RAMYA | CONTRIBUTED BY: HEMANTH
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Some of my stories are loosely based on real-life incidents, but details are fictionalized. My stories involve unsafe sexual acts. I do not condone unprotected sex and recommend readers to always practice safe sex. The risk is not worth it. These are fantasies and meant for entertainment only. My stories are my hobby — an expression of my erotic side. I mean no disrespect to women featured in my stories. If you know the woman in the story, please write to me and the pictures will be taken down — no questions asked.
Happy reading!

I don’t know who to trust anymore — certainly not my dad or new mom. Not even my so-called best friend. So, I am turning to you for advice, dear reader.

You should probably know something about me before we get started. I’m Hemant, eighteen years old student, and I’m already feeling like life has beaten me to a pulp. Let’s face it, I’m a nerd and bookworm.

I wear glasses, have severe acne, and am skinny to put it mildly. It doesn’t help that I am perpetually horny and can’t help staring at girls who smirk and look at me with disgust. No surprise then that I have been the target of bullies throughout school and college.

I’d probably have been beaten to a pulp if not for Karan, my best friend since school. He’s always been there protecting me from bullies. He’s tall, dark, and handsome. As a member of the college weightlifting and wrestling teams, he is all muscle and built like a tank. Basically, he is the exact opposite of me.

Girls swoon over him and he’s told me many vivid stories of his conquests. There’s hardly a hot girl in college that he hasn’t seduced. When I hear these stories, I have to go home and jerk off, imagining it was me instead of him. Pathetic, I know. But I must be honest if you are going to advise me.

Speaking of home life, mom was my protector (from dad) while she was alive.

She was a sweet soul who always had a gentle smile and a kind word.

She was diagnosed with cancer four years ago. It was a brutal, painful battle that she lost after fighting for two long nightmarish years.

My dad is the strict one, the disciplinarian — my bully at home. He is a successful businessman, handsome even at the age of 50 and I am probably a disappointment to him.

He is stern, often cold, and rarely shows any affection. He was a workaholic even when mom was alive, but at least he was loyal to her…till he wasn’t.

So let me start the story from when mom was in hospital and dad betrayed her…

I learned much later about the first time dad was disloyal to mom. I wasn’t there to watch it, but I have imagined it so many times, it’s almost like I was there.

Mom had been in hospital for close to a month and was deteriorating fast. We were all fighting the demon called cancer in our own ways, though mom lived and succumbed to it. When dad wasn’t by her bedside, he had turned into a workaholic. He was hardly home, choosing to drown himself in work instead of facing his pain.

But he is human too and one night, he was sitting on the couch in his office, crying, when Maya walked in. She is one of the senior executives at dad’s company and had lost her husband a few months ago.

The shared pain had brought her close to our family. She had visited mom many times in the hospital, had even babysat me. She and dad had become friends and that night they took their friendship to bed… or rather couch.

Both were in pain, both were vulnerable and she was comforting him as he cried on her shoulder.

Her pallu slipped and dad forgot his sorrow in the swell of her cleavage.

I guess he decided her breasts were a better place for his head to rest than her shoulder.

One hand moved from her waist to cup her right breast, while his lips started kissing the other.

I suppose loneliness and hormones can be corrupting influences, because when she moaned instead of pushing him back, he reached behind her and untied her blouse and then unhooked her bra.

Her breasts — firm, full, not a hint of sag — sprang free, and he couldn’t resist the urge to bury his face between them. She gasped, arching her back, giving his mouth what it wanted.

He kneaded her breasts, sucking and licking them like a starved man. His other hand moved lower, to her stomach, her navel, and then her pussy, rubbing her over her sari as one nipple disappeared in his mouth.

Since his hands were busy, she helped out with the buckle of his pants and fished out his cock, stiff and ready for action.

Dad groaned when she started stroking him. He released her nipple and kissed her. She opened her mouth, allowing his tongue to enter, her hand working his cock faster. He moaned into her mouth, and she moaned right back.

Saree came off, then the petticoat, and finally her panties. She was racing him as she took off his shirt, his pants and underwear, beating him in the undressing race with their mouths stuck to each other and tongues fighting a different kind of battle.

And then another part of him besides his tongue was in her. She moaned in his mouth when he breached her fortress, unprotected.

He was desperate and she was needy. He was pounding her hard and deep in no time, his mouth taking turns between her mouth and her erect nipples.

In my imagination, she wrapped her legs around his waist, taking him in even deeper, her nails digging into his back, leaving marks. I can only imagine the sounds of their bodies slapping against each other, their moans and groans of pleasure as he fucked her.

I can almost smell the sex in the air, the scent of their pheromones filling the room, intoxicating and heady.

I wonder if she came first, or if he did. Maybe they both came together, their bodies shuddering in unison as they climaxed and dad thanked her from the bottom of his balls for being there for him — gifting her pussy a load of his cum.

In my imagination, she wasn’t satisfied with the thank you and wanted more. Of course, he obliged thanking her again and again, throughout the night, in her pussy, mouth and maybe even her ass.

When they woke up the next morning wrapped around each other, she regretted it all. She pushed him away, tears welling up in her eyes as she gathered her clothes, cursing herself for being so weak. I guess she had all the thanks she needed from dad — I know I am being mean, but hey, I am a horny 18 year old right?

Dad went back to being the caring husband for two months before mom passed away and he got a free pass to fuck whoever he wanted.

I started noticing when he would come home with lipstick stains on his shirt collar. Then I started paying more attention and started noticing women’s perfume on him.

He started going to the company’s farmhouse on weekends and I would often find used condoms or discarded panties in the car.

The different colored lipstick, the different perfume fragrances and the different sizes and styles of panties told me, he wasn’t fucking just one woman.

I guess any woman in the office that didn’t shun his advances was free game, and dad had turned into a player.

My suspicion was confirmed when I managed to crack his phone and saw all the steamy messages from various women in his office — from 20 year old interns to women older than him.

And then there were the pics and videos these women shared with him. I saw them all. I uploaded them all to my secret cloud account.

I had seen many of these women dressed and looking professional at the office and now I was seeing all their private parts — top, bottom, front, back.

I had found a goldmine of nudity and was in masturbation heaven, jerking off to their pics every day.

And then he decided to bring the hottest one home, for good.

It didn’t make any sense to me when he decided to marry Ramya.

Why would he give up a garden and bring home one flower?

I had met Ramya a few times when I visited dad in the office.

She was his secretary before getting promoted to becoming his wife.

She was all curves and boy did she have boobs!

Big, bouncy, and ready to spill out of the tight tops and t-shirts she wore. She was a complete opposite of mom — loud and flirty, even with me!!!

I was jerking off thinking about her even before I found her pics in dad’s phone. And now she was moving in as my new mom!

The marriage was lowkey and they were gone for a 10-day honeymoon to Mauritius. Of course, I imagined what they did on their honeymoon.

Want me to tell you what I imagined? Here goes…

The only thing they saw in Mauritius was the inside of their room and their private beach. I imagined them fucking like rabbits, all day and night.

I imagined her massive boobs bouncing while she rode dad’s cock. I imagined dad claiming all her three holes.

And as I imagined their honeymoon, I was having a private honeymoon in the bathroom multiple times a day with her pics stolen from dad’s phone, jerking off, imagining me instead of dad fucking her senseless.

When they returned, my daily torture moved into dad’s bedroom. The mystery of dad’s sudden marriage got solved on the day she moved in.

I was asked to help her unpack and readily agreed.

What horny 18-year-old wouldn’t want to be close to her — dressed in a short off-shoulder top, her pokies straining through, and denim shorts that put her curves on display.

And to top it all, the chance to handle her underwear in the guise of unpacking?

I picked up a set of lace panties, smelled them while my back was turned to her, and was placing them in her closet when something slipped out from between them and landed on the closet shelf.

It was a flash drive. I pocketed it immediately, expecting to find her private pics and videos.

That night, after I’d helped unpack everything and they were in their room, I plugged the flash drive into my laptop and copied the files over (I returned it to the hiding place between her panties the next day while she was in the shower).

There were folders upon folders of pictures and videos, all categorized by date. Most of them had pictures from her trips, with friends, at office events, honeymoon, and so on.

One was called “Private” and it had a treasure trove of her nude selfies. Then I noticed another one called “Utpal” – dad’s name. I felt a rush of adrenaline and guilt as I clicked on it. There were a few pics and a few videos.

I recognized the bedroom in the farmhouse when I played the first video. The camera must have been attached to the ceiling fan.

Ramya was bouncing on top of dad, who lay on his back, his eyes closed and face contorted in an expression of pleasure. Her massive tits were swinging and bouncing, mesmerizing me. Her eyes were closed, her mouth open, and she was moaning, her hands on her tits, squeezing and pinching her nipples. Too bad, there was no sound.

Want to guess what my first reaction was? No, it wasn’t that she had secretly recorded the videos. Not even close. My first reaction was taking my cock out of my shorts and stroking it while watching her ride my dad. My eyes were glued to the screen watching her fuck dad. I came all over my laptop when her body started shaking and she convulsed before collapsing on top of dad.

It was only when I was laying in bed after watching half a dozen videos that it came to me.

She had recorded herself with dad and tricked him into marrying her. She had blackmailed him.

I was angry, but I was also thrilled. Clearly, they didn’t marry out of love. So maybe she would be ok to cheat on him with his son. I knew it was wrong, but my dick didn’t care.

The sounds of moaning and groaning coming from across the wall didn’t help either. While my dad fucked her in the next room, I was imagining her massive tits in my face, her moans as I fucked her, her hands guiding me as I plunged into her.

My cock was already hard and I was rubbing it through my shorts, thinking about her.

They went quiet after screaming together long before I clamped a hand on my mouth and messed my shorts.

How is a guy supposed to concentrate on studies when he starts hearing sounds of flesh slapping against flesh, sloppy moans and dirty talk through the wall?

Could I have used music and headphones to drown them out?

Sure, but I was horny, not stupid.

My study time went down, and masturbation time went up. They insisted I call her mummy, so that’s what I will do from now on in this story.

I turned into a thief, stealing mummy’s soiled panties from the laundry basket every day, and return them the next day after they took a few loads of my cum in them.

The sounds from the master bedroom became my masturbation breaks from study — sometimes multiple times a day. I would play one of the videos from the flash drive.

The sounds from the next room providing the necessary sound effects.

I would grab the stolen panties and go to town on myself, smelling and licking them before shooting my load in them.

One day, I was rummaging in the laundry basket when mummy was in the shower and found lace panties with fresh cum stains in it from their morning sex — jackpot.

I breathed in the scent of her pussy and liked the combination of her and dad’s cum.

I dropped my shorts to my knees and wrapped her panties around my cock. I was already leaking precum, and I used it to lube up the soft fabric, groaning at the sensation. I stroked myself slowly, my eyes closed.

I was so lost in pleasure that I didn’t hear the shower stop or the bathroom door open. Suddenly, a hand grabbed the panties (and my cock by extension), stopping me mid-stroke.

I opened my eyes to see mummy standing there, her towel wrapped around her, water dripping off her hair and body, my panty clad cock in her hand.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she hissed, but there wasn’t shock or anger in her eyes. What I saw there was lust.

I froze, my heart pounding in my chest. I was completely busted, and there was no denying it. I tried to pull away, but she held on tight.

“I… I’m sorry, mummy,” I stammered, my face turning red with embarrassment. “I didn’t mean to… I was just…”

“That’s not a nice thing to do,” she said taking her panties off my cock and tossing them in the laundry basket, but her hand didn’t leave my cock, “I understand you are just 18 and these feelings are natural at this age. But if you need help relieving the tension in your balls, you can ask mummy, you know.”

My jaw dropped and so did she… on her knees. I watched my cock disappear in her mouth. I watched her head move back and forth. I felt her hands cup my balls and then I saw her drop the towel.

My eyes widened as I took in her glistening, naked body. Her huge, creamy tits were right in front of me, the nipples already hardening.

“Oh FUCKKKKK!!!” I groaned and shot my load in her mouth. She kept stroking me, milking my cock and swallowing every drop.

“There, that’s better,” she said patting my cock when it went limp, “but this won’t be happening again, ok? If you want to fuck mummy, you better put on some muscle on those bones and build up some stamina.”

She stood up, her tits swaying in front of me as she wiped her lips with the towel.

“You know what, that gives me an idea. I’ve been getting bored at home and was wondering what to do to kill time. I think I will start a Yoga studio and you can be my first student. Let’s turn you into a hunk ok?”

She stunned me again, when she kissed my lips — just a peck — before wrapping the towel around herself and leaving, my eyes locked on the sway of her hips.

Project Yoga Studio started the following week, and the studio opened a month later. At first, I was her only student and she was a slavedriver. The suffering of doing Yoga was rewarded by the heavenly sight of her sweat-soaked body — her cleavage, poky nipples straining a sweat-soaked sports bra, her delightful camel toe in her yoga pants. I don’t know if my muscles hurt more from the yoga or my balls from the sight of her.

Slowly other students started joining and soon she was taking multiple classes during the day.

One day, when I left for college after yoga, I forgot my lunch box in the studio. I went red in the face when I saw her walking up to me during lunch hour, my lunch box swinging from her arms.

She was still in her sweaty yoga outfit, every curve highlighted, every valley outlined. I looked around and saw the guys literally salivating.

They were eye-fucking her, whispering to each other, and making lewd gestures. Many were adjusting their obvious erections in their pants. I knew exactly what they were thinking, because I thought the same things — everyday.

“Hey, sweetie,” she said, handing me my lunch box. “I thought you might be hungry.”

“Yeah, thanks, mummy,” I muttered, my face still red. I wanted to turn and run, but my legs wouldn’t cooperate.

“No problem, sweetie,” she replied, ruffling my hair. She planted a kiss on my cheeks before settling down on the chair next to me. The guys were around us like vultures, trying to catch a glimpse of her cleavage.

“Hi Boys,” she said smiling sweetly, not minding that they didn’t look up from her cleavage, “I am Hemant’s mummy, and you are?”

One by one, they introduced themselves, saying they were my friends, when they were anything but. I could see them undressing her with their eyes, her hand staying in theirs a little too long when they shook her hand.

“Nice to meet you all,” she said, her voice dripping with sweetness and sex appeal. “I’m Ramya. I run the new yoga studio around the corner.”

She stood up, swinging her hips slightly as she did, giving the guys a show. Her nipple pokies were visible through her tight sports bra or yoga top or whatever it is called. I saw a few of them gulp, eyes wide and mouths open. I knew exactly how they felt.

“You should all come and check it out,” she continued, her voice a purr.

She winked at me before walking away, hips swaying and ass jiggling slightly. I could see the guys ogling her ass, and I couldn’t blame them. But I knew I was in trouble. They would be merciless the moment she was out of sight — and they were.

“Shit, man, that’s your mother? Does she feed you milk from those tankers?” one of them asked.

“What a MILF,” another said, thrusting his hips back and forth.

“I’d tap that in a heartbeat.” another said.

“I am joining her class, dude. Does she just teach Yoga or other things too?” another said, moving his fist back and forth, the classical motion of jerking off.

“Do you sleep on those two pillows at night?” another said, cupping his hands around his chest.

I wanted to disappear. I wanted the ground to swallow me whole. I wanted to die of embarrassment, but I knew I was stuck in this hell. I could see all the guys in the cafeteria watching us. I could feel their smirks and their sneers.

“Pick on someone your own size,” I heard Karan’s voice from behind me. I turned to see him standing there, his muscular frame towering over the others. He pushed his way through until he was standing between me and them. “Back off, you idiots,” he growled.

The guys backed off, but not before a few of them mumbled insults under their breath. I saw one of them make a crude gesture with his hands, mimicking sucking on nipples. Karan glared at him until he dropped his gaze to the floor.

“Assholes,” Karan spat. He turned to me, his expression softening. “You okay, man?”

I nodded, feeling a mix of relief and humiliation. “Yeah, thanks man.”

Karan clapped me on the back, his voice low and stern.

“You don’t need to listen to those fucktards, you know? Don’t take what they say and do to your heart, dude.”

I nodded, but I knew it was easier said than done. Karan was my best friend, and I appreciated him standing up for me.

“They may be crass, but they aren’t wrong you know,” he said after a beat.

“What do you mean?”

“I saw her leaving and it’s no surprise they reacted the way they did. You have to admit, she’s smoking hot. And you get to feast on that body every day and maybe you will get lucky someday. You come out the winner here, dude.”

Clearly, he was turned on by her too. Who could blame him? If only he knew what I did thinking about her every single day or our one encounter in the laundry room. I wasn’t about to tell him.

Little did I know that my torment was going to get worse.

The bullies showed up at the Yoga studio the next day and every single one of them signed up. I heard one or two of them asking if she took private classes.

“Not yet,” she said acting as if the innuendo was lost on her, “just don’t have time, as fast as the student base is growing.”

Now I got to hear the boys whisper the nastiest things about her while she taught. I got to see their gestures while her back was turned. And they picked on me after class.

One day, I broke down and told Karan about what was happening in the Yoga classes and he was furious.

“I am going to join the class too. Let’s see them try their stunts then. Besides, who wouldn’t want to be around your mummy every day?” Karan said with a mischievous grin.

The following week, Karan started attending classes. He joined the advanced class, and I was relegated to the beginner’s class. I was a little relieved, though. I didn’t want to watch him ogling her while I was stuck in the same room.

Karan started helping us out with chores around the studio, especially anything that needed muscle and heavy lifting. He became a regular at the studio, even after class. It was a new studio and there was always something to fix or put together.

He helped out with the heavy lifting, and I could see the way she looked at him, the way she smiled when he was around.

It was fucking infuriating. I wanted to be the one making her smile, making her knees weak. But I was just her nerdy stepson, and he was the strong, muscular jock.

Sometimes, after the chores, they would sit and talk.

One day, I heard Mummy ask him about his girlfriends. I was in the back, cleaning the mats, but I could hear their conversation.

“So, Karan,” she said, her voice a soft purr, “Any girlfriends? I have seen the way the girls look at you.”

“No Aunty,” he said, looking embarrassed, “I feel awkward around them. I don’t know what they want, I am scared of not being able to make them happy.” — The LIAR! I thought.

“You’re a sweet boy, Karan,” she said, reaching out and placing her hand on his thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze. “If I can help you navigate your way around girls in any way, you just have to ask.”

“Thank you, Aunty, you are too sweet,” he said, his eyes locked on hers.

Another day, I heard her telling him about how dad is never home, how he travels for work all the time and when he is home, he is either working or sleeping.

“I am so lonely, Karan. I am a grown woman with needs, and he doesn’t even look at me. I married him thinking he was a good man, but off late, I am wondering if he is cheating on me.” — Both of them were fucking liars!!!

As days turned into weeks and then months, they seemed to hit it off. I would notice touches and hugs, lingering wistful stares, blushing unspoken exchanges with their eyes doing all the talking.

The sexual tension between them was palpable and it was driving me fucking crazy. I didn’t know who to be jealous of, her flirting with him, or him flirting with her?

One day, after college, Karan asked if he could stop by our place and fill up his water bottle. When we got home, mummy was curled on the couch, bawling. She was snotty and red-eyed, her mascara running, and her hair was a mess. I’d never seen her like this before. I was scared, not knowing what to do. Karan, on the other hand, seemed to know exactly what to do. He sat next to her and pulled her into his arms.

“What’s wrong, Aunty?” he murmured, stroking her hair. “It’s ok, Aunty, you can tell us.”

She cried harder, her body shaking with sobs. Karan just held her, letting her cry. I watched his hand slide off her shoulder down her back, while she sobbed on his shoulder. Watched him press her boobs against his chest when he held her. I even saw his hand go all the way down to her ass and cup her butt cheek. He winked at me with a grin on his face when he noticed me staring.

Eventually, her sobs started subsiding and she pulled back, wiping her nose with the back of her hand.

“I’m sorry, boys,” she sniffled. “I don’t know what came over me.”

Karan handed her a tissue from the box on the coffee table. “Nothing to be sorry about, Aunty,” he said softly, placing his hand on her thigh, way too close to her pussy bulge. “We’re here for you. Want to tell us what happened?”

She dabbed at her eyes and blew her nose before looking at me and saying. “It’s your father, Hemant,” she said, her voice shaking. “I caught him cheating on me today.”

“No way Auntie! How could anyone cheat on a wife as gorgeous as you?” Karan said, his hand still on her thigh, inching closer to the apex.

She looked at him, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I shouldn’t have gone to his office today. I should have just stayed home. At least I should have called him before showing up.” She sniffled, her voice choked with emotion.

“What happened, Auntie?” Karan asked.

She looked at him, her eyes filled with hurt and humiliation. “I walked in on him fucking his secretary in his office,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. “I saw him with his pants down and her skirt raised. He was inside her, he was fucking her…” She buried her face in her hands, her body shaking with silent sobs.

Karan moved closer, his arm wrapping around her. “Shhh, Aunty,” he murmured, his voice soft and soothing.

“Don’t cry, it’s gonna be okay. I’m here for you.”

His hand slid further up her thigh, brushing against her pussy over her yoga pants before going around her and holding her in an embrace, pressing her breasts against his chest.

I couldn’t help the boner I had. I wanted to be the one holding her. I wanted her boobs against my chest.

I wanted her body shaking in my arms. But Karan was there, and I was just the awkward, nerdy stepson. I felt like an intruder, like I was invading their space.

I should have left them alone, but I couldn’t. Nor could I help jerking off later that day, imagining Karan fucking mummy.

The scent of new wood filled the air as we worked, the polished floors of the yoga studio creaking softly beneath our feet. Mummy had decided to expand the studio’s offerings, adding a small gym area to cater to the fitness enthusiasts among her students. Karan and I were helping her set up the new equipment, a task that required more brawn than brains.

Karan, ever the strongman, was effortlessly lifting and assembling the bulky machines. I, on the other hand, was the designated tool fetcher, constantly scurrying about, trying to keep up with his pace.

And Mummy was the director and spectator — her eyes reserved for Karan’s flexing muscles. She would walk around, adjusting equipment, and “accidentally” brush against him, her hands lingering. I couldn’t take my eyes off her, or those swaying hips, or the way her tits bounced.

As we finished up, Mummy clapped her hands together. “Great job, boys! You deserve a reward.” She walked over to the mini-fridge in the corner and grabbed three bottles of water. “Here, have a drink. You both worked hard today.”

Karan downed his water in one go, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Thanks, Aunty,” he said, his voice hoarse. “I should head home now. See you tomorrow, Hemant.” He turned to leave but was stopped by her.

“Karan,” she said, her voice soft but with a hint of urgency. “Could you do me a favor before you go?”

“Sure, Aunty. What do you need?” he asked, turning back to face her.

She looked around the studio, “I’ve been having some… plumbing issues back there.” She said pointing towards the bathroom at the back. “I need you to check it out for me. Maybe you can fix it?”

Karan’s eyes gleamed with mischief. “Of course, Aunty. Happy to help. Come on champ,” he said to me heading towards the bathroom.

“He can go home, Karan,” she said, “Uncle will be coming home soon and Hemant has a test coming up. I can help you with whatever you need.”

I tried to protest and offered to stay and help, but she was having none of it. I finally gave in and left the studio, closing the door behind me. I must have walked less than 30 seconds when I realized I’d left my backpack behind. I turned around and trudged back.

As I entered the studio, I was greeted by the sound of conversation from the back and made my way there.

“I see nothing wrong Aunty,” I heard Karan’s voice, “the water’s flowing fine, nothing’s clogged.”

“It’s my plumbing that needs fixed Karan,” she said her voice a husky whisper and I froze in my tracks.

“I’ve seen how you look at me. You were the only one there for me when I caught Uncle cheating on me.”

Her voice had dropped to a sultry whisper, filled with lust and longing. I heard a rustling sound and realized she was removing her clothes.

“You’re the only one who understands me,” she continued, her voice breathless. “You’re the only one who can make me feel wanted again.”

I heard the sound of something soft slithering and landing the floor, and I knew it was her clothes. I was scared and excited at the same time.

I didn’t know what to do. Should I run? Should I stay? I tiptoed and peered around the open door.

I saw her pull him close to her… saw him bend forward as she rose on tiptoes… saw their mouths fuse and heard them moan together.

She was down to her bra and panties, and his tracks were hanging by his knees, his cock in her hand. I watched in awe as her hand stroked him up and down, her fingers barely wrapping around his girth. He was massive compared to me — almost twice my size and width. She looked up at him, her eyes filled with lust and longing.

“I need you, Karan,” she whispered, her voice filled with desperation. “I need you inside me. I need to feel alive again.”

“Oh Aunty,” he mumbled in her mouth, before reaching around her and unhooking her bra. It fell to the floor and her massive tits sprang free, the nipples already hard. He cupped them, his thumbs brushing against her nipples, making her moan even louder.

“Fuck, Aunty, you are amazing,” he groaned, burying his face between them, licking and nipping.

“Mmmm, yes, suck them, Karan, there’s a surprise for you in them.” she cooed, her hands going to his hair, holding his head against her chest. He sucked hard, the sound of wet slurping filling the room.

“Oh Fuck Aunty,” Karan gasped standing upright, his eyes wide. I saw milk trickle down the side of his mouth.

“Surprise!!!” she said pulling his head back to her breast.

He latched on to her nipple, sucking harder, his cock throbbing in her hand. She moaned, her other hand going to his hair, holding him in place.

“Oh fuck, yes, drink it all,” she hissed, arching her back, pushing her breasts further into his mouth. His hands reached behind her and disappeared inside her panties, cupping her ass cheeks.

I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Karan was sucking on her tits like a baby while she stroked his massive cock. She was moaning and cooing like a fucking pornstar. I wanted to be in his place, but I was stuck in the corner, frozen like a deer in headlights.

“Oh Fuck Aunty! You are so sweet,” Karan said taking a break for air and licking his lips before taking the other nipple in his mouth. I could see milk trickle out of the nipple he had been sucking on.

I was transfixed, watching her do a number on his cock, while he milked her. Then she started taking slow steps backwards till she reached the mattress — what was a mattress doing in the bathroom? I didn’t care.

I watched her lay down on the mattress. Remarkably, his mouth never let go of her nipple and he was now on top of her. I watched her slide her panties down and kick them off. She spread her legs and guided his hardness towards her opening.

He groaned into her nipple when he entered her. She gasped, her back arching as she took him in, her pussy stretching to accommodate his size. I saw his enormity disappear inside her.

I heard her moan, a deep, guttural sound, and I felt my own cock twitch in my hand at the sight. I don’t know when I dropped my pants and started stroking myself.

Karan began to move, slowly at first, his massive cock sliding in and out of her with a wet, smacking sound. Finally he released her nipple and they began to kiss passionately, their tongues intertwined.

They were making animal sounds in each others’ mouths as their tongues wrestled, his tempo picking up gradually.

“You better empty the other one too,” she said guiding her other nipple in his mouth when they broke the kiss.

With an animal growl he started sucking and milking it, I saw milk trickle out of his mouth and down her breast. He was drilling her hard now.

He was both milking and fucking her, driving her wild. Her moans turned into screams – desperate, primal screams that rang in the room.

Her tits bounced wildly as he pounded into her, the mattress creaking and groaning beneath their weight.

I could see the sweat on her body, shining under the soft lighting of the bathroom, glistening like diamonds. I could see his muscles flexing with each thrust.

“Yes, yes, yes, oh God, yes Karan, I am so close,” she was screaming, her fingers digging into his back, her legs wrapped around his waist.

“Me too Aunty,” he said letting her nipple go. “Cum with me Aunty.”

I was fascinated by the sight of his massive cock disappearing inside her, stretching her pussy. I was jerking off hard and fast, my precum leaking all over my hand.

“Harder Karan, harder,” she moaned and he responded, moving like a machine in high gear.

“Oh yes, yes, yes, fuck me harder, Karan. I am going to cum, aaaahhhh…. yessssss.” she screamed, her body convulsing, her pussy clamping down on his cock, her eyes rolling back into her head, her toes curling behind Karan’s back.

At the same time, Karan let out a roar and his back arched, he slammed all the way into her and stiffened, his body jerking as he came, his cock shooting jets of hot cum inside her.

I couldn’t take it any longer either and came spraying my cum all over the doorway. I was moaning, but they were so into their fucking, they didn’t notice.

As Karan’s body relaxed, he collapsed on top of her, both of them breathing heavily, still joined. He kissed her passionately and she caressed his hair, their hips still moving slowly, his cock still inside her.

“WOW Aunty!” Karan exclaimed, his body still shuddering with the aftershocks of his orgasm. “That was fucking insane!”

“You were amazing Karan, I haven’t cum this hard in ages. I think I need to upgrade you to private classes now.” she said to him, her voice a purr, running her fingers through his hair.

He looked up at her, his eyes filled with lust. “I’ll do anything you want, Aunty. As long as I get to drink your milk and fuck you like that again.”

“Anytime you are hungry sweety,” she said as I started cleaning my mess off the door.

I could hear their sloppy kisses and moans.

“Can I have one more drink Aunty?” I heard, followed by a giggle and “sure honey.” Then I heard hungry sucking, followed by, “So fast! How can you go hard again so fast Karan? I can feel you growing inside me.”, and then I heard, “keep feeding me that sweet milk Aunty and I will keep going hard,” followed by “Really? Let’s see how many times you can get it up tonight.”

I had seen and heard enough. I picked up my backpack and left quietly.

It was 5 am when I heard the main door open. They had fucked all night long! I felt betrayed by my best friend and decided to confront him when we met at college.

I cornered him in the empty library, my heart pounding in my chest like a drum.

“You came back? You saw?” He asked, his voice more amused than anything after I gave him a tongue-lashing.

“I saw everything, you fucking asshole!” I hissed, my voice echoing in the empty library. “I saw you fucking her, you bastard! I saw you drinking her milk, I saw you cum inside her. I saw it all!”

“Sweetest milk ever,” he said, his voice sounding dreamy.

“Besides the point, Karan, you fucked her!!!”

“Five times dude! I’ve never been able to get it up more than twice in a day. She made me cum in her pussy five times.” Karan said smiling, his eyes glazed over as if he was reliving the moment.

“I don’t believe you!” I said defiantly.

“I thought you said you watched it all,” Karan challenged, a smirk playing on his lips.

“I did, but I left after you came in her the first time. There’s no way you could have…”

“Done it five times? Six, actually,” he interrupted, his smirk growing wider. “I forgot the time I came in her mouth. And I didn’t just fuck her, Hemant. I ate her out too, and she squirted all over my face. It was fucking insane.”

I felt my face flush with a mix of anger, humiliation, and something else – something dark and twisted that I couldn’t quite understand. I gripped the back of the chair I was standing next to, my knuckles turning white.

“You’re fucking lying,” I spat, my voice barely above a whisper. But even I could hear the crack in my voice, the tremor of arousal and jealousy.

Karan took a step closer to me, his voice low and seductive. “You can stay and keep watching next time, if you want. I am meeting her in the studio again tonight.”

She didn’t know… or maybe she did when I watched them fuck again that night… and the night after… and the night after that.

I was addicted to the show that was better than any porn movie ever.

When dad went overseas for work, she invited him home — so she knew I knew.

She let me watch him fuck her in dad’s bed. She even took me in her mouth when I came, while he drilled her pussy.

The inevitable had to happen sooner or later. It came as no surprise to me when mummy announced she was pregnant at the dinner table one day.

Dad was overjoyed and started dancing, “you will have a brother or sister soon, Hemu” he said, his eyes shining with delight, picking me up and swinging me around like I was a kid. I tried to hide my disgust, but I couldn’t stop the sneer.

It’s not like dad wasn’t fucking her. When he was home, I got to hear one show from my bedroom at home, and watch another at the studio. They were both fucking her insane, and she took it all. She was just insatiable.

So, technically, either of them could have knocked her up. But being a nerd has its moments. Math is my thing, and it didn’t take me long to work it out. She said she was four weeks pregnant when she announced it.

Counting backwards, the day she conceived would have been in the last week while dad was overseas for three weeks, maybe the day before or days before his return.

Karan is going to be the dad of my brother or sister… my surrogate dad.

So, here’s my question for you, dear readers — should I tell dad? Should I destroy the family? Or should I keep my mouth shut, watch Karan slide into dad’s role in the bedroom when he is away and accept my best friend as my new surrogate dad?

Any suggestions?