Incest Trap by Custom

[Naina boss]

Without warning, Kishan's hands slipped to the string of her petticoat, tugging it down to reveal her firm, round buttocks. He stepped closer, pressing himself against her, his hardness evident. Divya felt a thrill of excitement and fear, but she didn't push him away. Instead, she turned to face him, her eyes meeting his.

Their kiss was explosive, a dance of tongues and teeth that spoke of their mutual hunger. His hands roamed her body, squeezing her breasts, pinching her nipples, and finally delving between her legs to find her wet and ready. Divya gasped into his mouth as he stroked her, her own hand finding its way to his zipper.

With a deft twist, she freed his engorged member, a thick, pulsing shaft that seemed to demand her attention. She sank to her knees, her eyes never leaving his as she took him into her mouth. The velvety warmth of her lips and the soft moan that vibrated against his shaft sent a shiver down Kishan's spine. He had never been with a woman so hungry, so willing to explore the depths of pleasure.

As Divya's mouth moved in rhythm with his hips, she reached back to untie the knot of her blouse, letting the fabric fall away to expose her voluptuous breasts. They bobbed with her movements, the nipples erect and begging for his touch. He cupped them in his hands, squeezing gently, feeling the weight of her desire in his palms. He could feel his own need growing, a beast that demanded release.
Kishan groaned, the sound a mix of pleasure and frustration. He needed to be inside her, to feel her warmth envelop him completely. He lifted her up, her legs wrapping around his waist, and carried her to the counter. The fabric of the blouse was no match for the strength of his passion as he tore it away, leaving her naked except for the thin petticoat.

Her skin glistened in the soft light, a canvas of beauty that he could not help but marvel at. Divya's eyes were dark with desire, her pupils dilated, and her breathing ragged. She watched him as he positioned himself between her thighs, his manhood poised at her entrance. Without a word, she spread her legs wider, inviting him in.

Kishan did not need further encouragement. He plunged into her, feeling her tightness grip him like a vise. She was wet, her body already betraying the depth of her need. He pushed in deep, eliciting a gasp from her that was music to his ears. Her nails dug into his shoulders, her hips rising to meet each of his thrusts.

Their union was frantic, a silent symphony of passion and need. The tailor's scissors and threads lay forgotten on the counter, forgotten in the face of their carnality. Divya's breasts bounced with each impact, her nipples hard and sensitive, brushing against Kishan's chest. His hands roamed her body, exploring every curve and dip, leaving trails of fire in their wake.

 

[Naina boss]

The sound of their lovemaking was muffled by the fabric that surrounded them, a secret shared only by the four walls of the tiny fitting room. Divya's moans grew louder as he found her spot, the one that made her toes curl and her eyes roll back in her head. She bit her bottom lip, trying to stifle the sounds that threatened to give them away, but it was a futile effort.

With every stroke, Kishan felt his control slipping away, the need to claim her fully overwhelming his senses. He leaned down to kiss her neck, his teeth grazing her sensitive skin as he suckled her earlobe. Her nails raked down his back, leaving trails of pleasure-pain that only served to drive him wilder.

"Harder," she whispered, her voice a breathless plea that sent shivers down his spine. He complied, his hips moving faster, his thrusts deeper. The counter creaked under their combined weight, but neither paid it any heed. The room grew hot, their bodies slick with sweat, the scent of sex permeating the air.

In that moment, as their bodies merged, the whispers of the village, the judgmental glances, the heavy burden of tradition - all faded away. They were just two people, lost in a world of sensation, of need that was as old as time itself. Kishan felt a primal urge to claim her, to leave his mark on this woman who had captivated the village with her beauty and defiance.
Divya's pussy was a tight, wet heaven that Kishan had only dreamt of. Her juices coated him, urging him to go deeper, to take her to the brink and beyond. He could feel her walls clench around him, her body begging for release. With each thrust, he grew more confident, more possessive. He knew he had to give her what she needed, what she deserved.

Her legs tightened around his waist, pulling him closer, urging him deeper. Divya's breaths grew ragged, her eyes locked onto his as if willing him to read the silent scream of pleasure that built within her. He felt the tension in her body, the tremble in her thighs, and knew she was close. With one final, powerful thrust, he sent her over the edge, her body convulsing around him as she climaxed with a muffled cry.

The tremors of her release set off his own, and Kishan's hips jerked, driving him deeper into her until he too found his peak. He groaned, the tension in his body dissipating in a rush of white-hot pleasure that left him trembling. For a moment, they stayed like that, entwined in a silent embrace, the only sound the harsh rasp of their breathing.

Finally, with a sigh, Kishan pulled out, setting Divya's legs gently on the floor. He took a step back, his chest heaving. Divya straightened her petticoat and began to re-tie the knot of her sari, her movements deft and practiced. She met his gaze in the mirror, her eyes filled with a mix of satisfaction and something else - something darker, more complex
"Thank you," she said softly. "Your stitching is as precise as your lovemaking."

Kishan flushed, fumbling with the buttons of his shirt. "It's... it's nothing, Divya."

"No," she corrected him, her voice firm yet tender. "It's everything."

With a nod, she stepped out of the fitting room, leaving Kishan to compose himself. The fabric of her sari fluttered around her, hinting at the passionate act that had just unfolded behind the curtain. The tailor couldn't help but watch as she walked away, her hips swaying in a way that suggested she was fully aware of the power she held over him. He felt a strange mix of elation and fear - elation at having tasted the forbidden fruit and fear of the consequences that could befall them both if their secret was discovered.

 

[Naina boss]

As the days rolled into weeks, the whispers grew louder. Divya's boldness in flaunting her sexuality had not gone unnoticed. Her visits to the tailor's shop had become more frequent, and the villagers began to piece together the puzzle of her mysterious late-night absences. Yet, she remained unfazed, her smile never dimming, her eyes never shying away from the accusatory glances.
Her affair with Kishan grew more intense, the stolen moments in the fitting room now a fiery escape from the cage of her new life. She had discovered a part of herself that had lain dormant for years, a hunger that could no longer be denied. Each encounter was a silent declaration of her freedom, a rebellion against the chains of widowhood that sought to bind her.

The whispers grew into a murmur, a constant hum that followed her wherever she went. Yet, Sarla remained blissfully oblivious, lost in her own grief and the responsibilities of running the household. Divya took advantage of her mother-in-law's distraction to indulge in her secret life, her nights now a whirlwind of passion and desire.

The evenings grew longer as the days grew shorter, and with each setting sun, Divya's anticipation grew. Her heart raced at the thought of seeing Salim again, the mysterious beggar whose touch had awakened a fire within her that she hadn't known existed. His rough, calloused hands had torn her apart, and yet she found herself craving the pain, the pleasure that came with each brutal thrust.

Her mother-in-law, Sarla, had noticed the change in her. Divya's eyes had taken on a new spark, a wildness that seemed to both alarm and intrigue the older woman. She watched as her daughter-in-law donned her nightclub attire, the short skirts and tight blouses that were as scandalous as they were alluring. The whispers grew to a murmur, and Sarla's curiosity could no longer be contained.

 

[Naina boss]

One night, as the village lay in the embrace of darkness, Sarla waited for the telltale sound of the back door opening, her heart racing. She had decided it was time to confront the truth, to uncover the secret that had transformed her once-docile daughter-in-law into a creature of the night. As the soft click of the lock echoed through the silent house, she waited, her eyes narrowed and her breath shallow.

The shadowy figure that emerged from Divya's room was not the one she had expected. Instead of her son Rishi, it was the beggar, Salim. His tall frame filled the doorway, his eyes gleaming with a predatory hunger that sent a shiver down Sarla's spine. Her suspicion grew into certainty, a cold knot forming in her stomach as she watched him sneak away into the night, the same way he had arrived.

Her hand trembled as she lit the candle by her bedside, the flickering flame casting eerie shadows across the room. The revelation was a dagger in her heart, a betrayal that cut deeper than any she had ever known. Divya, her daughter-in-law, her confidant, had been whoring herself with the village's lowest scum. The very thought made Sarla's blood boil.

The next morning, as the cockerels heralded the dawn, Sarla summoned Divya to the courtyard. The older woman's face was a mask of calm, but her eyes were stormy with rage. Divya walked in, her hips swaying with an unabashed sensuality that seemed to mock the sanctity of the household.

 

[Naina boss]

What is it, Sarla?" Divya asked, her voice carrying the hint of a yawn. She had returned from her rendezvous with Salim only hours ago, her body still thrumming with the aftershocks of pleasure.

Sarla's gaze was cold as ice. "What kind of woman are you, Divya?" she demanded, her voice low and tightly controlled. "You bring shame upon this house, cavorting with that... that beggar!"

Divya's eyes narrowed. "What do you know of the kind of woman I am?" she retorted, her voice steady. "You knew Ajay could never satisfy me, and now you expect me to live a life of celibacy?" The words hung in the air, a challenge thrown down like a gauntlet.

Sarla's face grew pale. "How dare you speak of such things!" she hissed. "You are a widow, a mother, a daughter-in-law!"

Divya's eyes flashed with anger. "How dare I?" she echoed. "How dare you force me into a life of misery and despair? Ajay was a good man, but our love life was...lacking," she said, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Salim showed me pleasure I never knew existed. And when he took me against my will," she paused, her voice shaking with emotion, "I found myself craving it. Craving him."

Sarla's hand flew to her mouth, her eyes wide with horror. "What are you saying?" she managed to choke out.

 

[Naina boss]

The truth," Divya said simply. "Ajay was a good man, a good husband in every way, but he could not satisfy me. Our intimate life was...less than ideal," she admitted, her voice thick with unshed tears. "When Salim came into my life, he showed me things that Ajay never could. He taught me what it is to truly live," she said, her eyes meeting Sarla's without shame.

Sarla stared at her, aghast. "You mean to say that you allowed that...that animal to defile you?" she spat.

"Allowed?" Divya's laugh was brittle. "He took what he wanted, and in the process, he gave me what Ajay never could. Pleasure," she said bluntly, her eyes never leaving Sarla's. "He didn't just fuck me; he made me feel alive."

Sarla's eyes filled with tears as Divya continued. "One day, it went too far. He was too rough, and I found myself pregnant.

The words hung heavy in the air, a confession that shook the very foundation of the household. Divya's voice grew softer, the anger in her eyes replaced by a haunted sadness. "I didn't want to bring a child into this world under such circumstances, so I did what I had to do," she whispered. "I aborted the baby."

Sarla felt as though she had been struck. Her world, her beliefs, the very fabric of her existence, had been torn asunder by Divya's revelation. "How could you?" she choked out, her voice trembling.

 

[Naina boss]

How could I not?" Divya countered, her voice rising. "You knew Ajay and I had not shared a bed in years. Did you think I would just wither away, never to know the touch of a man again?" Her eyes were fierce, the flames of her spirit burning brighter than ever.

Sarla was speechless, her hand shaking as she clutched the edge of her sari. She had never seen this side of Divya, never knew the depth of the pain she had been carrying. Divya took a step closer, her voice softer now, yet still filled with a quiet determination. "I had to find my own happiness, my own fulfillment. Ajay is dead, and I am not. I refuse to be buried with him in the name of tradition."

Her mother-in-law's eyes searched hers, looking for a glimpse of the girl she had known, the one who had entered this house as a bride full of hope and dreams. But all she saw was the woman standing before her now, a creature of fire and passion, unbroken by the weight of her past. "It was you," Divya said, her voice now a whisper, "you who introduced me to Rahim. You who insisted that I follow the custom of serving him, even in the most intimate ways."
Sarla's face crumpled like a piece of paper thrown into a bonfire. The truth burned her, but it was a truth she could no longer deny. She had hoped that by bringing Divya into the family fold, by giving her the affection and companionship of the men she had known and loved, she could ease her suffering. But in her desperation to uphold tradition, she had unleashed a tempest that now threatened to engulf them all.

Divya nodded, her gaze unwavering. "It was your idea," she said, her tone devoid of accusation, but filled with a quiet resolve. "You wanted me to be happy, to find peace in this new life. And so, I have. With Digvijay, with Inder, with Rishi, and yes, even with Rahim."

Sarla felt the ground shift beneath her feet as the truth of Divya's words sank in. It had been she who had pushed the young widow into the arms of the men in their family, thinking it was the right thing to do, the traditional thing. But now, as she saw the fire in Divya's eyes, she realized that she had unknowingly set a beast free from its cage.

"You are no longer a widow, Divya," she said, her voice trembling. "You are a wife to Digvijay and a wifeto Inder. And as for Rishi," she swallowed hard, "you are a...wife to him."

Divya's gaze was unflinching. "I know," she said, her voice gentle but firm. "And it was you, Sarla, who encouraged me to find happiness with them. Who told me that it was the way of our tradition?"

 

[Naina boss]

Sarla nodded, her eyes brimming with tears. "Yes," she murmured, her voice barely audible. "But I never imagined..."

Divya reached out, placing a gentle hand on Sarla's shoulder. "It's alright," she assured her. "I know you had good intentions. But now we must move forward. I am not a widow, I am a wife, a wife to Digvijay, to Inder, to Rishi," she said, her voice clear and strong, "and to you, as your husband's wife."

Sarla's eyes searched Divya's, looking for any sign of anger or resentment. Instead, she found understanding, a depth of emotion that she hadn't seen in the young woman since the day she had become a widow. "You must accept your role, Divya," she said finally, her voice shaky. "You must fulfill your duty as a wife to all of us."

Divya nodded solemnly. "I will," she promised. "But know this, Sarla. I will not be a possession, to be used and discarded. I will be a partner, a lover, an equal in every way."

Sarla searched her eyes, looking for any sign of deceit, but all she saw was the truth. She took a deep breath, the weight of her decision settling heavily upon her shoulders. "I understand," she said, her voice barely more than a whisper. "You will share your bed with all three of them, as is our custom."

Divya nodded, her eyes shimmering with determination. "I will," she agreed. "But remember, Sarla, it is not just my body that I am sharing, but my heart, my soul. They will be my partners in every sense of the word."

 

[Naina boss]

Divya's hand paused mid-chop, the blade of the knife glinting in the light. She turned to face him, her heart racing. "Rishi, what are you talking about?" she asked, her voice shaking.

He stepped closer, his eyes dark with lust. "I know what you've been doing, Mother," he whispered, his voice low and dangerous. "I've heard the whispers, seen the way you look at me."

Divya's heart pounded in her chest as she took a step back, her eyes wide with fear. "Rishi, no," she begged, her hand coming up to ward him off. "You're my son. This isn't right."

But Rishi's hunger was not to be denied. His eyes gleamed with a desperate need as he closed the distance between them, his strong hands gripping her shoulders, pulling her towards him. His mouth crushed hers in a bruising kiss that stole her breath. Divya felt the room spin as his tongue invaded her mouth, tasting the sweetness she had always reserved for her husband, for her lovers.

Her initial protests turned into whimpers of shock as his hands roamed over her body, tearing at the fabric of her blouse. His touch was rough, claiming her in a way that both terrified and excited her. The kitchen, a place of warmth and comfort, had become a battleground of passion and power, the aroma of spices mixing with the scent of their
desire.

 

[Naina boss]

Sarla, standing in the doorway, watched the scene unfold with a mix of horror and fascination. Her voice, usually so commanding, was now a mere whisper as she urged Rishi on, her words a dark echo of what she had hoped would never come to pass. "Do it," she murmured, her eyes glazed with a mix of anger and resignation. "Make her your own."

Rishi, driven by his own desperate need and fueled by his mother's unexpected command, ignored Divya's protests. He pushed her down onto the cold stone floor of the kitchen, the sound of her bare skin meeting the surface echoing through the room. Divya's eyes widened with fear and arousal as Rishi's rough hands tore at her clothes, revealing her nakedness to the unforgiving light. His eyes devoured her, the hunger in them unmistakable.

Sarla's words hung in the air like a dark incantation. "Rishi," she said, her voice a harsh whisper, "you must claim her. Make her your own." The fury in her eyes was matched only by the resignation that weighed down her voice.

Rishi's grip tightened on Divya's wrists as he pinned her to the floor, his body pressing down on hers. He looked at her, his eyes a tempest of conflicting emotions - anger, lust, and confusion. Divya's protests grew weaker as she felt the unmistakable heat between her legs, a traitorous response to the situation she found herself in. She had never wanted this, never dreamed that her own son would desire her in this way