FuckMyIndianMom
Experienced
- Joined
- Dec 16, 2024
- Posts
- 55
Inspired by a real incident, i came across was a photo of my mom with a movie star.
At least, that’s what I thought—until my friend, who had taken the picture, smirked and said, If you knew the story behind it, i’d never look at it the same way again.
My friend was well-connected in the industry, organizing elite events where the rich and famous let loose behind closed doors. This particular event had been an exclusive promotional party, with the biggest name in Bollywood as the chief guest.
I had been invited but was too busy to attend, so I sent my parents instead. My father, always the businessman, spent the evening networking. My mother, the reserved, soft-spoken woman who had spent her life playing by the rules, had no idea that tonight, she would be tested.
It started subtly a lingering glance, a teasing smirk, the lightest touch on her waist. The star, known for his effortless charm, was flirting. At first, my mother had laughed nervously, clearly unused to such attention. She wasn’t the type to indulge in such things. But the way her fingers fidgeted with her top the way her eyes darted toward him when she thought no one was looking… there was something there.
Then came the moment. She asked my father to take a picture of her with him. My father, oblivious, agreed, stepping back with the phone to frame the shot.
From the front, the photo was perfect his arm lightly draped around her waist, her smile shy, his presence commanding.
But behind her…his hand slid lower.
Lower.
Until his palm was cupping the soft curve of her ass.
My mother’s body stiffened, but she didn’t step away.
Instead, she held her pose, her fingers subtly tightening around his waist. My father snapped the picture, asking them to hold still for another, adjusting the focus. And in those fleeting seconds, the star grew bolder.
His fingers kneaded her through the thin fabric. A slow, deliberate squeeze.
Behind them, people noticed. A waiter, a few staff members, some of the industry insiders. Their murmurs were hushed, their eyes flicking between them, watching the way her body responded.
And then, just before the final click of the camera
A quick smack
A sharp, barely audible slap against her backside. A claiming touch.
From where my father stood, everything looked proper. To anyone looking at the photo later, it would appear like nothing more than an innocent pose.
But to those behind them? Yhey saw everything.
After the picture, the star leaned in, whispering something into her ear—
And then he took a step back, flashing his signature smirk before casually gesturing toward his vanity van—a silent, unmistakable invitation.
At least, that’s what I thought—until my friend, who had taken the picture, smirked and said, If you knew the story behind it, i’d never look at it the same way again.
My friend was well-connected in the industry, organizing elite events where the rich and famous let loose behind closed doors. This particular event had been an exclusive promotional party, with the biggest name in Bollywood as the chief guest.
I had been invited but was too busy to attend, so I sent my parents instead. My father, always the businessman, spent the evening networking. My mother, the reserved, soft-spoken woman who had spent her life playing by the rules, had no idea that tonight, she would be tested.
It started subtly a lingering glance, a teasing smirk, the lightest touch on her waist. The star, known for his effortless charm, was flirting. At first, my mother had laughed nervously, clearly unused to such attention. She wasn’t the type to indulge in such things. But the way her fingers fidgeted with her top the way her eyes darted toward him when she thought no one was looking… there was something there.
Then came the moment. She asked my father to take a picture of her with him. My father, oblivious, agreed, stepping back with the phone to frame the shot.
From the front, the photo was perfect his arm lightly draped around her waist, her smile shy, his presence commanding.
But behind her…his hand slid lower.
Lower.
Until his palm was cupping the soft curve of her ass.
My mother’s body stiffened, but she didn’t step away.
Instead, she held her pose, her fingers subtly tightening around his waist. My father snapped the picture, asking them to hold still for another, adjusting the focus. And in those fleeting seconds, the star grew bolder.
His fingers kneaded her through the thin fabric. A slow, deliberate squeeze.
Behind them, people noticed. A waiter, a few staff members, some of the industry insiders. Their murmurs were hushed, their eyes flicking between them, watching the way her body responded.
And then, just before the final click of the camera
A quick smack
A sharp, barely audible slap against her backside. A claiming touch.
From where my father stood, everything looked proper. To anyone looking at the photo later, it would appear like nothing more than an innocent pose.
But to those behind them? Yhey saw everything.
After the picture, the star leaned in, whispering something into her ear—
And then he took a step back, flashing his signature smirk before casually gesturing toward his vanity van—a silent, unmistakable invitation.
