My mom Reema was in her early sixties. She was an Indian woman with big breasts and well rounded and big ass. My mom was always loyal to my dad Ravi and was a good housewife for him. She was living in England but was a traditional Indian mother and housewife.

The only thing about my mother was that she liked to wear heavy makeup and low cleavage showing underneath her saree with her mangalsutra hanging down. I always thought my mom was showing too much cleavage and would feel embarrassed when customers would ogle at my mother’s breast. It would be partially exposed when she was bending over to pick up anything.

I noticed one man Steve would always ask for items from the bottom shelf. And when she bent over, he would stare pervertedly at her tits like she was a dirty slut. And then he would just chat with my mom. My dad never seemed to mind that she was showing so much cleavage even though she had big tits.

While we were working in the grocery shop, my mom was fussing over my dad. And John a white man in his 30s had tattoos and was a bit rough looking. He was a regular customer, remarked to my dad Ravi how my mom was such a good traditional housewife cooking him nice meals and looking after him.

I was shocked by what my dad said next as I hadn’t heard him talk like that before. He said to John that my mom was a good Indian housewife, cook in the kitchen and a whore in the bedroom.

John laughed while he was catching glimpses of my mom’s big tits and lusting after her like she was a dirty slut.