Indian mom's humiliation

[FuckMyIndianMom]

Would love help developing the idea, particularly how she's manipulated, dub con type and humiliated.

Indu, a 45-year-old married Indian housewife, projects a shy, conservative facade as the dutiful wife. Yet beneath her simple and cultured exterior lies a slutty core, craving forbidden pleasure she suppresses for her family’s sake.

She visits a small tailoring shop on a secluded road to get a blouse stitched, where a young, charming tailor greets her alone in the shop. As he takes measurements, his fingers linger on her curves, brushing her breasts and hips, sparking an immediate, wet heat in Indu’s eager pussy. She bites her lip, her body arching into his touch, her slutty nature stirring.

The tailor, sensing her hunger, manipulates her with flirty praise, suggesting her saree needs to be removed for perfect measurements to showcase her hot body. Driven by her suppressed lust, Indu eagerly complies, unwrapping her saree.

Unbeknownst to her, a passerby across the secluded road watches through the shop’s window. The tailor’s flirting intensifies, his hands groping her tits and ass freely as he compliments her figure.

He bends her over the table, lifting her skirt and fucks her while the voyer watches

 

[KindredFlame]

Would love help developing the idea, particularly how she's manipulated, dub con type and humiliated.

Indu, a 45-year-old married Indian housewife, projects a shy, conservative facade as the dutiful wife. Yet beneath her simple and cultured exterior lies a slutty core, craving forbidden pleasure she suppresses for her family’s sake.

She visits a small tailoring shop on a secluded road to get a blouse stitched, where a young, charming tailor greets her alone in the shop. As he takes measurements, his fingers linger on her curves, brushing her breasts and hips, sparking an immediate, wet heat in Indu’s eager pussy. She bites her lip, her body arching into his touch, her slutty nature stirring.

The tailor, sensing her hunger, manipulates her with flirty praise, suggesting her saree needs to be removed for perfect measurements to showcase her hot body. Driven by her suppressed lust, Indu eagerly complies, unwrapping her saree.

Unbeknownst to her, a passerby across the secluded road watches through the shop’s window. The tailor’s flirting intensifies, his hands groping her tits and ass freely as he compliments her figure.

He bends her over the table, lifting her skirt and fucks her while the voyer watches

I don’t know much about Indian culture but this sounds like a fantastic idea and I haven’t seen a story that would use culture like this. I would love to see it finished.

 

[Rob_Royale]

I don't see any humiliation and for me, that's a good thing. Seeing a woman embrace her true nature without humiliation is the best and biggest turn-on. She carries on a affair with the tailor and loves every second. When the voyeur approaches her with photos, she's happy to have another cock and doubles down on her new debaucherous lifestyle. Seeing how enthusiastic she is, the voyeur is happy to delete his photos.

 

[Carnevil9]

It all starts when he asks her to measure his inseam.

 

[FuckMyIndianMom]

It all starts when he asks her to measure his inseam.

My mom's not the tailor, why will she measure his inseam

 

[FuckMyIndianMom]

I don't see any humiliation and for me, that's a good thing. Seeing a woman embrace her true nature without humiliation is the best and biggest turn-on. She carries on a affair with the tailor and loves every second. When the voyeur approaches her with photos, she's happy to have another cock and doubles down on her new debaucherous lifestyle. Seeing how enthusiastic she is, the voyeur is happy to delete his photos.

The idea is, humiliation is a turn on for the mom, she gets off on it

 

[KindredFlame]

How dose something like this sound, as a start?

My mom is 45 she is 5’4 or something like that she has a good figure and has always made me horny when I think of her having sex.

My father is a traditional Indian who is very proud of his heritage, and my mother is very loyal to him. Although we all know she runs the house, she always makes him feel like he is in charge.

My mom wears casual Indian style clothing around the house but is more westernised when she is out wearing skirts and blouses that you would see on any English street.

Anyway, this day started as any did in our household with my father leaving for work after being served his breakfast by his dutiful wife, clearing up before she began her day. With a wedding coming up, she was looking to get a new Salwar Kameez, a comfortable formal Indian dress worn on such occasions by women.

She asked me to escort her into town as my mother was never at ease visiting the working district of the town, as most would be in a lower caste than her family.

I agreed and I looked forward to witnessing her discomfort once more.