In the throes of a monsoon downpour, a Bangla aunty, her sari drenched and clinging to her curves, seeks refuge in her husband's absence. Her dark, secluded room fills with the scent of wet earth and her own arousal. She fingers her nipples, pinching and pulling, as she remembers the feel of her son's innocent yet eager mouth. Her hand wanders lower, stroking her engorged clit, as she imagines his thick, young cock inside her. The storm outside rages on, mirroring the storm within, as she brings herself to a shuddering, guilty climax.