Incest/Taboo Long Lost Son Returns Home to Amma

Another mother-son incest story. I have tried to add some panty fetish as well. All the situations are made up. None of this would happen in real life. A lot of taboo, obscene sex. Comments are welcome. Thanks

Shankar and Meena knew the importance of a good education and instilled this in their children. The older daughter, Rani, was the smart one and got good grades and managed to get admitted to the nursing college in the next town. The younger one, Raja, though, was a rebel. He did the things that naughty boys did. He threatened to run away from home if his parents pressured him too much to study, but they laughed at this.

But reality struck hard. Raja's high school results were disastrous, and he could not even manage admission into the local college. He made good on his threats and ran away from home. His parents were devastated. It seemed that the whole town was looking and searching for Raja, but after getting no news for about six months, Shankar and Meena resigned themselves to the fact that their younger son was lost to them forever.

But all was not lost really. With help from some loyal friends and his own resourcefulness, Raja managed to get into the army, though at first only at the lowest of the lowest level. But with hard work and dedication, he was stable enough in his work in about a year, and looked forward to a bright future in the army.

He thought about his parents often, regretting what he put them through when he ran away. He missed his mother. Her food and love, but mostly her presence in his life that he had taken for granted. After about a year, he sent a letter home through some friends of friends.

His parents were elated and overjoyed. Their son was safe and sound! There was much rejoicing all around. After that, Raja sent letters back home, though not on a regular basis. But that was enough for Meena, knowing that he was alive and well. Raja's letters were infrequent but they were enough to keep Meena's hopes that one day her son would come back home to her.

Raja proved himself to be a worthy and able soldier. He made his way up the ranks and in about five years he was sent to accompany an elite band to a remote coastal and border area to handle dangerous separatists and suspected terrorists. The secret nature of the assignment made it difficult for him to send letters back home.

His people were crestfallen on not getting any communication from Raja. Months became a year, and one year followed the other and then they had no more hope of seeing Raja. Life went on as usual in their town. They got their daughter married, and a grandson followed within a year. Festivals were celebrated. Rituals and anniversaries observed. With no news from Raja.

But Raja was a survivor. He drudged through another half a dozen years in the Army. What kept him going was the memory of his home. Of late, he thought of them often. Especially his amma. He missed her the most. He was now senior enough to get a posting in the army cantonment and would be offered accommodations if he was married. He decided that was what he wanted. He had a two week leave coming up.

He decided to come back home.

Shankar and Meena could not believe their eyes. Raja, their long lost son had returned! It was impossible to digest. They thanked the many, many gods they had prayed to. They threw a big feast for their friends and relatives. If there had been a celebration and rejoicing bigger than the one they had on Raja's return, no one had yet to see it. For two days, there was an endless procession of family and friends coming and going. Only after that did they have some time to themselves.

But between all this, Meena had a queasy feeling the last few days. Seeing her son after more than ten years made him seem almost like a stranger to her. It was a weird feeling, no doubt, and she could not explain it to herself. There were a lot of changes in him. She remembered him as a very thin, gawky, awkward teenager and that was how she pictured him in her mind all these years. But now he was a fully grown, mature man. The years in the Army, the regular food and work had made him into a handsome and healthy young man. He was much taller than all the males in the family. The change in his body structure, the way he carried himself - so erect and straight and confident, his mannerisms, his way of talking and laughing, all were so new to her.

It felt as if she was seeing him for the first time. An unknown newcomer. Someone she passed by on the road, or a person she observed standing at a bus stop, who piqued her interest because of his stature, posture, build, looks, youth, attractiveness, novelty, smile. He was like a breath of fresh air to her. She involuntarily and automatically distanced herself from the role of his mother while looking and admiring him. It felt surreal to her, but she kind of liked the sensation.

Shankar had arranged a private trip to the temple of their family deity the next day. Raja suddenly remembered something from the days of his youth and approached Meena.

Raja said, "Amma, do you remember how you used to give me an oil massage before we went to the temple. Aiyoh! How I missed this! It has been, what, ten - twelve years since I had one? Come on Amma! Can you..please..."

"Your fault for running away, Raja!" she responded, and then without thinking, said, "Okay, I'll heat the oil and bring it out."

Meena saw Raja through the Kitchen window as he pulled up a chair and got ready for his massage. Her eyes grew wide as she watched him and she almost let out a yelp like a small dog. Raja had removed his shirt, and then his lungi. He only had his shorts on. Meena gaped at her son. So trim and strong. Not an inch of fat was visible anywhere. Muscles like coiled ropes ran across his abdomen. His thighs were like tree trunks and the muscles there rippled as he moved. His pecs were like two copper discs, shining and curved. His biceps and triceps bulged in every direction. His shorts were tight, very tight on his buttocks, taut and creaseless except for the line that ran between his asscheeks where the shorts were pinched. "Oh my god! He shouldn't.. couldn't be wearing that inside the house! At least not in front of me!" Meena said to herself. But she was ogling her son shamelessly. She didn't want to move, and wanted the moment to go on forever. Just her and her son. She realized she was holding her breath as if she were in a trance. And as she released it, a slow warmth, starting from her groin, spread across her body.

"Ready, amma!" She heard Raja call out.

"Coming, coming, Raja," Meena responded and she carried the oil to the inner courtyard where Raja waited.

But she hesitated. She tried not to stare. Not to make it obvious that she was uncomfortable doing this. It was after all her son. But he was not the young teen she remembered. Here was a full grown man, in just his shorts, almost naked!

Raja bent forward from the chair, stretching to reach his toes. Meena eyes flew to his back where his shorts had pulled down to reveal the beginnings of his ass crack. "Oh God! What are you doing?" an inner voice asked Meena.

A tremor ran through her body as she first made contact with his flesh. She moved her hands very slowly at first. Then she realized what she was doing and that Raja might find out something was not right. She started talking, just to distract him. But she was acutely aware of the manly body her fingers were pressing and pushing against. She could feel each and every taut muscle on his back, neck, chest and stomach as she rubbed hot oil on him. He then pulled a small stool and put his foot on it and Meena spread oil on his thighs and calves and feet and toes. She tried to concentrate on his chatter and the jokes and stories, but she couldn't. Her fingers lingered on the contours of his thighs, his rounded knees, his shapely calves, his abdomen. His skin was so smooth, so hairless, almost like a child. His body rippled and shone with the oil she poured on him. She broke out in a sweat and her breathing was becoming rapid. She felt droplets of sweat on her forehead and on her waist and on her armpits. She almost lost control of what she was doing. She spread oil on him repeatedly, more than once, on the places she had already covered. His chest, his abs, biceps, triceps, neck and back.

Oh! How beautiful! What an absolutely perfect specimen of a man, she thought. Just like those models in magazines. She had not touched a man other than her husband, of course. But she had imagined and fantasized about what a body of a fit, athletic, strong, virile man would feel like. She did not have to imagine anymore. For a span of a few minutes her fingers and hands were just moving over just such a man's body. Her eyes lingered on his back and moved over his narrow, slim waist and up around his hips and his chest and abs and thighs, and his deep navel. Her eyes followed the line of his inner thigh as it went beneath his shorts. Her eyes fell on his groin. Did she sense a bulge there?

"Hey, Meena! Where's my towel?" came Shankar's voice from somewhere in the house.

Meena was rudely shaken from her reverie. She could only stammer, "What.. what..towel, yes...must be there..somewhere.."

Meena jumped back and stared at her hands and then at Raja's back. Raja was still chatting away, telling some story from his Army days, and then laughing at what his appa had asked. "What appa! Take your towel with you.. ha ha.. What can amma do? Let her finish my oil massage.. Come amma!"

But Meena had regained some sense of composure. Oh my god! She thought. It was her son. She was..was..enjoying her son! Enjoying the feel of his body..the pleasure it gave her, Imagining his manhood...oh god!

"No, Raja, I am done. Go to your bath after appa comes out. Okay?"

Meena rushed back to the kitchen. She was breathless. She leaned against the counter in the kitchen and looked back at Raja. He had risen up from the chair and was now stretching this way and that, still in his shorts.

Meena could once again see him in his entirety. His bare back, flesh and muscle glistening in the sun, rippling like gold after the oil massage she had given him. He bent backwards and his abdomen stretched like a taut washing board. She gulped and gaped, looking at the very prominent bulge at the front of his shorts as he held the yoga pose for about ten seconds. He straightened and then quickly put his hands on his crotch and adjusted his private parts.

Blood rushed to her face and then she felt the warmth again in her groin. And suddenly a release, a coolness, a wet sensation formed right where it should not, at least not when she was looking at her son. But she couldn't help it. She put one hand between her thighs and clutched them shut and leaned against a table till the feeling passed. She trembled a little as it slowly ebbed out of her.

The Army had trained Raja well. He was capable of deep sleep, but could awaken at the slightest sound and be fully alert and aware in seconds. The previous night was no exception. The crowds had gone, and there were only him and his appa and amma in the house. They had gone to bed after a great meal.

But something, some slight noise from within the house awakened Raja. He slipped out of his room, barefoot and silent, but with a heavy stick he kept for protection. At first he could not hear anything. Then sounds like a low moan, accompanied by a grunt. That kept repeating. Rhythmically. He thought it was a machine, the fridge or something. As he crept along the dark corridor, he realized the noise was coming from his parents' room. Within a fraction of a second he knew what it was, but he still did not stop. He slid silently to the door as the noises became more and more clearer.

His amma was moaning. His appa was grunting. Their mattress was creaking.

His parents were fucking!

Raja stood motionless. It was for only about half a minute. Then he realized two things at once. First, the noises from the room had suddenly stopped. And second, he had a throbbing hard-on in his shorts. He slipped silently back into his room and lay on his bed.

Fuck! His amma and appa were having sex! And why not? She was in her mid-forties and his appa was a couple of years older. What was so wrong with them fucking? In fact, it was natural, no? It was..just..hard to imagine or think about his parents having sex now. But not quite

Raja was not so innocent. During his adolescence, his fantasies involved all the girls and women he had encountered. He masturbated regularly to their images in his mind, and on many occasions had thought about his amma and appa in bed. He recalled that at times he used to look at amma in the morning and tried to figure out if she had been fucked, either the previous night or had had an early morning session with appa.

He had lost his virginity many, many years ago to a prostitute that he and his comrades visited. He realized he loved sex. He spent every furlough, every few hours of free time the Army allowed, with a whore or a willing woman or girl. Between her thighs, fucking. Holding her head steady as he mouth-fucked her. Spreading her ass cheeks and pounding her asshole as she screamed. Ejaculating his cum on her face or into her mouth if she was okay with it. Boy! He had his fill. And of course wanted more, like any virile young man.

But he had a secret that he hid from even his closest buddies. He had a thing for older women. Not sure where it came from or when. But even as his friends went after young, nubile, innocent girls, he tracked down older women. Something about them, their mature body, their experience, their willingness to satisfy unconditionally, appealed to Raja. He loved to handle the fat and flesh on their hips, the smooth, hard muscles of their asses, and the feel of moist, cool, well used, slick cunt walls gripping his thick dick, their heavy tits topped with hard, stiff nipples.

And now he lay on his bed, sweating profusely. He pulled down his shorts and freed his painfully erect member and stroked it. Images floated into his head. Of two people fucking. His amma and appa! God, what would they have done? What kinds of sex acts? He imagined his appa doing to his amma all the obscene, lustful, pleasurable things he himself had done with his women. Or were they shy, just doing it platonically, just for a few minutes? Fuck! He pictured his appa on top of his amma, she with her thick thighs spread apart and goading his appa to fuck her harder and longer, clutching his back, scratching, screaming, moaning, groaning.

He grabbed his appa by the shoulders and pulled him from atop his amma and pushed him aside. He parted his amma's thighs and pressed his face to her crotch and inhaled the musty smell from her pubic hairs. He lapped her pussy lips and tasted her juices mixed with her piss. Heaven! He then got up and she grabbed his thick, hot, veiny, black, smelly cock with her fist, gave it a few jerks and directed it into her cunt. Motherfucker! Really! The moist, silky, slimy, hot, velvet walls of her cunt engulfed the entire length of his cock. Oh what a feeling! He tore into her, howling and screaming, as if she were one of his whores. She pushed up and met each of his thrusts with the same or even more ferocity. It seemed like they could go at it for hours and hours.

Suddenly he ejaculated. Raja heaved himself from his cot just in time and stood up. His cock erupted and streams of thick semen flew out in never ending ropes. He couldn't help it. A voice inside his head kept calling "Amma, amma, amma!! ahhhhhhhhh!"

Raja could not believe what he had just done. He masturbated to images of his amma. He fantasized about fucking her! Was this why he was attracted to older women? Did he really see his amma in all the women he fucked? Or was he seeing a whore in his amma? Whatever it may have been, it was something that he would never get out of his head. What if he subconsciously wanted to have sex with amma?

Just then, an incident, something he did in his Army days, flashed into his mind. Many years ago when he was posted to a small, remote village deep in the forests, he had come across a woman who was carrying illegal sandalwood to her home. He had threatened to expose her and her family to the forest police. But she had offered herself to him in return for him not turning her in (He forced her, but that was just some minor detail!). He went to her repeatedly. Fucked her numerous times. Did all sorts of nasty, obscene things with and to her. She was his first ass fuck. And hers too. She screamed and wailed as he pushed and pulled his thick dick in and out of her hairy asshole. It was painful for both, but it was so pleasurable for him! It became normal for him. Fuck her cunt, then her ass, then come on her face and in her mouth despite all her protests. Three holes, three positions. Repeated many, many days and nights.

But was there a reason why he recalled that particular woman now, of all times? Her face flittered into his brain. Then suddenly there was his amma's image now, superimposed on the other woman's face. That woman and amma, back and forth, back and forth, flitting in and out, images flashing in his mind!

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! That was it! She could have been a younger version of his amma! Yes, that's why he went to her, repeatedly. Perhaps that's where it started. He missed his amma, and fucking that woman was in a convoluted way like being close to her. How much closer to a woman can you get beyond having your dick in her pussy, asshole and mouth. Oh god! He wanted to do all those things to his beloved amma! It was so wrong, but.but..it felt so good! Then and even now. He was going to be a motherfucker!

Fortunately some relatives came visiting in the morning and Raja was busy talking to them. In the back of his mind, though, were all the things that happened to him the previous night. The sounds of amma and appa fucking, and his jerking off to the images of amma. He wanted some quiet time to reflect on what that all meant. He avoided his amma as much as possible.

His appa had arranged a trip to the temple, and as was usual, his amma gave appa a perfunctory oil massage before his bath. Raja, innocently and unwittingly, also asked his amma to give him a massage as well.

When he was young, he had not paid any particular attention to the oil massage his mother gave him and his appa. In fact, Raja never liked it at all. The smell of the oil was off-putting, His amma touching him made him uncomfortable and he used to get away as quickly as he could.

But now something made him ask her for it. Perhaps his fantasy from the previous night drove him to it, giving him a reason to be close to her. Just the two of them and no one around.

That proved to be a big mistake. Electricity coursed through his body and amma spread oil on him. He was not a small boy anymore. He was a man. And here was his amma touching him all over. He steeled his mind telling himself it was his mother and not just another woman. But he could not push the images from the previous night from his mind. The sounds from his parents' bedroom echoed in his ear. He was not ready for it. His body had a mind of its own and he found to his dismay that he was getting an erection.

He did the only thing he could to distract himself and amma. He started telling stories from his days in the force and making jokes and laughing. He could not be sure if his amma was paying attention. She was just nodding and saying "Oh I see", "Really?" "Uh-huh.." etc as she covered him with the warm, scented oil.

He wished she would stop. She seemed to be taking her own sweet time. And why was she so slow? She seemed to be going over the same parts of his body repeatedly, many, many times. He wished and hoped she would not notice his burgeoning hard-on inside his shorts. Fuck!

Fortunately, his appa called for his towel from the bathroom and amma had to walk away.

But now, He stood in the bathroom, ready to wash off the oil with soap and scalding hot water. He slowly took off his shorts. Incredibly, suddenly freed from its confines, his dick grew hard and within seconds he had a throbbing hard on. Fuck! Why did he have to ask for an oil bath? Why did amma have to do what she did? His thoughts went back to when his amma was applying oil to his body, Though he was chatting away, trying to distract himself and amma, he knew that subconsciously his mind was recording all the images to recollect later. And this was the time his mind replayed what had happened.

She was not very flat or plump. She was very healthy and it showed. He looked at her arms. So smooth, well rounded and muscled from years of hard house work. Her blouse was tight on her forearms, the flesh beneath it rippling. Amma's bangles made rhythmic tinkling sounds as her hands moved over him. The end of the gold chain she wore on her neck dipped into and out of her cleavage. His eyes were drawn to her breasts. They were big, but not huge. The supple tops of her heavy tits were visible at the top of her blouse and the valley between them was deep and dark. He made out a few droplets of sweat on her there. And then realized that she did not have a bra on, perhaps because she was home. This realization made him squint and search the front of her blouse for a sign of her nipples.

At first he could not make out anything, but after a few minutes her boobs appeared heavy and strained at her blouse, her nipples became erect and prominent and poked out of material she was wearing. She had noticed the change in her tits as well, and made some clumsy and unsuccessful efforts to cover her chest with the pallu of her sari. Raja noticed a line of sweat under each of her armpits, and wondered if she was hairy there, if she ever removed her armpit hair like most modern girls and women did. His eyes were drawn to the exposed part of her back, between her blouse and her sari. Drops of sweat made her flesh sparkle, and he could see how fair and smooth her skin was. Her top of her white petticoat poked out and he made out the line of fat that ran around her hips where her sari was. Then as she turned and reached his feet and ankles, her sari tightened around her ass. Raja tore his eyes away from the sight of the stretched fabric around the expanse of her backside with great difficulty. He looked at her face and saw it flushed red, with exertion or excitement, he could not be sure. She definitely looked uncomfortable and embarrassed. He sort of liked the feeling, seeing her in that situation.

His cock rose and stayed erect and straight at an angle from his body. As he watched, the shiny and taut purple head of his dick pushed through and his foreskin rolled back and settled beneath its head. He involuntarily fisted it and stroked his cock slowly. He relished the feeling of the thick, throbbing flesh in his fist. He cupped his balls with one hand. Images and thoughts of his amma floated into his mind and he threw his head back and closed his eyes. He did not want to finish. He wanted to prolong the feeling.

He opened his eyes and they fell on a big steel drum that was overflowing with clothes. Within seconds he realized that they were his amma's dirty clothes that she changed from after her bath. His breath quickened, and without thinking he went to it. It did not take long for him to pick out her bra. It was the standard run of the mill, white cotton one. He took it and placed one of the cups on his face and inhaled the scent of his amma. The scent of her body mixed with her sweat entered his nostrils and a chill ran through his body. He put her bra down, and rummaged through the drum until his hands fell on a small, blue colored, slightly thick piece and he picked it up. Yes! That was it. He had his amma's panties in his hands. He recalled that late the previous evening, his amma had gone to the marketplace with some of her friends. She definitely would have worn this at that time. He unfurled the panties slowly and stretched out the gusset. It was caked and thick and hard. He took it to his nose. Heaven! The scent of her cunt and piss and sweat was overpowering and fantastic. His cock jerked up and down furiously as he inhaled repeatedly. Fuck!! He covered his cock with his amma's panties and started jerking off. He didn't want to finish there, though. He wanted to store the scent and feel of his amma and her clothes and use it for jerkoff sessions later. He put the clothes back down reluctantly, and started his bath.

The house was an old one, handed down to Shankar from his father, who got it from his father. It was built with local materials and workers, with little heed paid to accurate joints and finishes. The door to the bathroom, like many other doors and windows in the house, was very heavy, and fixed with huge hinges. Over the years the door sagged and pulled and developed a huge gap between it and the wall. Anyone aware of this could look right through to the inside of the bathroom from quite a few feet away and see almost everything that was happening inside. Meena knew this of course, and she always remembered to cover the gap from the inside when she used the bathroom. She made it a point to tell all her female visitors also about this.

When Shankar was done with his bath, he told Meena that they had run out of the special sandalwood soap she kept in the bathroom. She did not pay much attention to it at that time. But now, a few minutes later, she realized that Raja had gone into the bathroom. She wanted to go and hand the soap over to him.

Something made her stop dead on her tracks about ten to fifteen feet away from the bathroom! The gap between the door and wall in the bathroom was in her direct line of vision. He could see right through and what she saw made her heart almost jump out of her chest! She felt her pulse race, and her heart pound hard against her skin.

Raja was completely naked! He could see his entire back. Sleek and smooth and shiny from the oil she spread, muscles rippling under his skin. She was aghast at the scene in front of her. She was not supposed to be doing this? What was she to do? She was fearful of her own actions. But she could not help herself! Her eyes ran down her son's nude body slowly. They lingered for a long time on his buttocks. His ass cheeks were tight and taut as if they were hardened clay. His ass crack was a very dark, thick line. He suddenly bent down, and her eyes flew to the gap between his thighs. She had a fleeting glimpse of his dark asshole and bouncing testicles before he stood back up. She drew a sharp breath, and held it there as she gaped wide eyed and open mouthed as what Raja did next.

He turned and she had a sideways look at him. He bent his head and looked down at his middle and his crotch was like a magnet that attracted her eyes. His huge manhood stood erect and hard and straight, at an upward angle from his abs. She almost tripped and let out a quiet yelp.

She had seen Shankar's penis, of course. During the early days of their marriage, Shankar had stood in front of her, just like Raja was doing now, and had instructed her on how to use her hands to masturbate him. She didn't like it at the beginning, but she gradually got used to it. She liked to see the look of pleasure on his face as she used her hands on him and jerked him off, to see his cum spurting from his cock. That was the only way to satisfy Shankar during the days she had her period. Shankar had also asked her to use her mouth on his cock and suck and lick it. It was disgusting, but she entertained him for a few years. Of late, Shankar's libido had slackened, though they did have sex regularly. But he was not so sexually demanding these past few years.

But her husband's cock was no match for Raja's. Raja's dick was like something made of hard rubber. It was like a pipe, so thick and hard and unbending. She could make out the veins that ran all around it. And the pinkish, purple thing at its tip was shining and glistening. My god! Can something be so big and hard and long?

She let out a gasp as she watched Raja fist his cock. He put his head back and was now stroking his penis, eyes closed. One hand cupped his testicles, and with the other he pulled and pushed at his cock.

Meena could feel a warmth spread from her loins within a few seconds of watching her son masturbate. And in the middle, she realized she was leaking something cold and slimy from her own privates. The liquid seeped out of her and ran down her thigh. She shivered, as spasms of pleasure rocked her silently. She stood rooted to the spot, afraid to move. Afraid that even a slight movement would spoil the moment, would alert Raja to the fact that his amma was watching him jerking off.

As Raja stroked his turgid member with his eyes closed, Meena adjusted herself with quiet, small movements. She spread her feet and placed one hand for support on the wall, and the other between the folds of her sari and moved it around so that there was nothing but the minimum amount of cloth between her hand and her crotch. She rubbed her hand up and down her hairy mound, feeling her thick cunt lips. She did not wear panties at home under her petticoat and saree. She realized that she was syncing the movements of her fingers with that of Raja stroking his cock.

God! What a feeling! She had not done this in a very, very long time. Maybe even years and years. And that too only a handful of times. She had found it horrible and disgusting that one had to pleasure oneself. But now, her hands moved automatically to her pussy mound and she rubbed the thick knob of flesh that gave her so much pleasure. Aiyoh!

She had closed her eyes. But when she opened them she saw Raja having a piece of cloth to his nose. It was white, with some bands and straps and cups. And she instantly recognized it as her bra. Aiyo! Oh God! Her son was sniffing her undergarment! And as she kept looking, Raja seized a blue piece and was looking at it closely. She did not have to even think for a second. It was her panties! Raja was looking, touching her panties. And now, holy mother of god! He was sniffing her underwear and pleasuring himself. He covered his thick manhood with her panties!! She saw the look of absolute pleasure and pain on his face as he lovingly slid her panties on his cock!

Meena could not take it anymore. She withdrew as silently as she could, and made her way back to her bedroom, and closed and locked the door. She made sure all the curtains were drawn and the windows were shut. She went to a corner, behind the almirah and lifted her saree and petticoat. The cool air from the ceiling fan rushed up to her crotch, cooling her hot flesh. She placed her fingers on her pussy, probed and found the entrance and pushed two fingers inside her cunt. And out. In and out. In and out. She had her eyes closed. A black, veiny, hard, smelly, oily, slimy cock, with a huge mushroom head floated into her mind. Then her son's fist closed over it and stroked it. She stroked her hand in tune with Raja's jerking off in her mind. She slowly brought herself to the pinnacle of pleasure. Waves of pure bliss and release passed over her, repeatedly. She mouthed her son's name, "Raja, Raja, Raja..." until she collapsed on the floor, satiated, exhausted and empty. At least for that moment.

Shankar and Meena lay on the bed that night and when sufficient time had passed, he turned to her and lifted her nightie and bunched it on her waist. She parted her legs and allowed him to come between them and grabbed his penis and directed it to her pussy hole. But that day, Shakar felt an urgency in her. She seemed to be more ready and eager than usual. When his dick touched the entrance to her hole, he found her to be moist and warm and wet and ready down there!

"Aiyoh, my dear! You are ready..!" He whispered.

"Aiyoh! Stop! Keep your voice down. Raja is at home now," she whispered back.

She allowed Shankar to enter her. He wasn't going to take long anyway. Usually a minute or two at the most, between thirty five and forty strokes and he would grunt and empty his seed into her. That made him happy and satisfied. She too was happy.

But again, that night was different. She couldn't help but compare her husband to Raja.

"Oh, God! If Shankar's small manhood felt so nice and good inside her, if he fit her so tightly, how would something like Raja's feel?"

She cursed herself for thinking about her son while her husband was on top of her, fucking her. She'd definitely go to hell for thinking such things. But the thoughts wouldn't leave her mind. She found herself willing, almost begging Shankar to keep going, going till she had herself reached her limit. She realized she was creaming profusely from her cunt, and this made Shankar even more excited. He started grunting loudly, and Meena kept shushing him, and wanted him to finish quickly. When Shankar tried to take a break, she goaded him on until with a mighty heave he crashed and ejaculated into her. He rolled off of her, turned away and in about a couple of minutes was snoring blissfully.

Meena, though, was left unfulfilled that night. She had never felt this way before. She would usually fall asleep just like Shankar, after their sex sessions. But that day, her mind replayed the events of the day - her giving an oil massage for her son, seeing him naked and masturbating in the bathroom, and she pleasuring herself. Her hands reached her crotch and she felt the sticky wetness there. Her fingers parted the moist growth of her cunt hair and touched her hot, distended lips.

She was about to dip her middle finger into her hole when she heard a noise from outside the room!

She froze.

Was someone there? Watching? Listening in? Who could it be? It was only Raja at home. Could he be eavesdropping on his parents when they were ...were. God, she couldn't even think of it.

They fell into a routine for the next few days. Raja spent his day visiting friends and family, telling and retelling stories from the army. Everyone was willing to listen to him, offering food and sweets and snacks.

But the night time activity was what he was looking forward to every day. Raja would sneak quietly to the door of his parents bedroom and try to listen in. He was very surprised that his amma and appa were sexually active even at their age. Knowing this excited him no bounds. He wanted to see his amma right after she had sex. He wanted to see her face, with the sweat and flush of sexual exertion still on her. He tried to see this in her in the mornings but she was usually busy in the kitchen.

Meena too had a nagging suspicion that her son was curious about her. She was his mother, but after all these years being separated, she would seem just like another new woman to him. But she recalled that when he was younger and at home, she had to take steps to make sure to hide her womanly things from his curious eyes - her undergarments, her pads and the like. And a few mornings now, she felt his eyes on her as she worked in the kitchen and around the house. This was fascinating to her, in a way. And she liked the attention.

Raja was very busy one evening. He went with his friends for dinner and then to a bar, but he did not feel like drinking. But his mind was preoccupied. Obviously with amma.

Raja could not help but think about what he had heard the previous night from his parents' bedroom. He was sure they would have sex that night also. Like many nights before this. he tiptoed to the door of their bedroom, and he was right. They were fucking! He could hear them whispering, and then the rhythmic sounds of body against body. He went cold all over, but he had a throbbing erection forming. He fisted his cock through the material of his shorts and felt the thickness and heat come through.

He was staring intently at the door, thinking of nothing but his amma under his appa, fucking, groaning, moaning when he suddenly realized the noises coming in from the room had stopped. He heard footsteps approaching, and he made a hasty retreat, not to his room, but to the kitchen which was the nearest room. He quickly turned on the light and made it seem like he was searching for something.

But when he turned around he had the shock of his life. His amma was standing at the door, staring at him. She had made no noise as she came up to the kitchen.

Mother and son stood there and stared, sizing each other up, unsure of what to make of the situation and of what to do next.

Meena was a mother and Raja was her son after all. She knew what he had done. Guilt was written all over his face. She was sure he was standing on the other side of their bedroom door, listening in, while she was being fucked by his appa. There was no doubt about that in her mind. She knew it, and she realized that Raja too knew that she knew it.

Raja was dumbstruck. He went cold all over. He knew he had been caught. What was he to do?!

He mumbled the first thing that came to his mind. "Amma, uh,eh, I.. I was hu..hunger.. I wanted to get some...some....milk..yes....some hot milk amma"

Meena was flabbergasted. "What? Milk? You..you want milk..you..you never have milk at night..eh.. eh..ok Go back to your room, I will get it for you."

She brought a glass of milk to his room and quickly walked away.

Later Raja lay on his bed and replayed what had happened and what he realized in the few seconds they were together in the kitchen.

Amma had only her nightie on. One button was undone (which she obviously did not realize) and Raja could make out the tops of her tits. He was sure she had nothing underneath her nightgown. Her thighs showed thick and prominent. Her hair was disheveled. Her chest was rising and falling and her eyes were wide with amazement. And most telling of all, her face had the unmistakable glow of after-sex. She had quickly looked down at his crotch. He had willed himself to not get a hardon, but he wasn't sure. As he walked past her, he caught his breath as the aroma or her sweat and her juices reached his nostrils. And as she walked away from his room after giving him his glass of milk, his eyes fell on her thick, tight ass cheeks under her nightie (He was a damn pervert!) as they jiggled with her walk. He was sure she did not have her panties on.

Raja realized that an enormous erection formed in his shorts and he freed it by pulling his shorts down. He grabbed his thick dick and started stroking it, with images of his amma floating in his brain. Oh how beautiful it was! His face was buried in her crotch, his nose among her cunt hairs, and his lips and mouth and tongue on his amma's clit and pussy lips. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! He edged for a long, long time. He lay on his bed, shaking, sobbing, crying, calling out his amma repeatedly as his dick pulsed in his hands.

Meena too was wide awake. She had asked her husband to be quiet when they were having intercourse but she wasn't sure if she herself was quiet. What if Raja had heard her moaning and groaning in pleasure. Aiyoh! Raja had heard her and Shankar being intimate, having sex. She was sure of that. He had obviously lied about needing milk. And how about his body? He was naked except for his undershorts. His muscular physique was so evident in the soft light of the kitchen. His abs like coiled ropes, his biceps bulging, his chest like a steel plate. And then she quickly glanced down at his midsection. Did he realize it? Did she make it so obvious? And..and..the bulge there? That was unmistakable! He had an erection, without a doubt.​