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English Story of Mother Son Sex - A mothers command Part 2
English Story of Mother Son Sex - A mothers command Part 2 , Mother and Son Sex Stories, Free Big Butt Porn, the largest HD sex tube site with tons of free Big Butt Sex Xxxn, Old & Young porn movies.
A fortnight later on my return from college I noticed my mother's eyes red and swollen. I asked her if she was weeping. She said that she had missed her weekly oil bath and that was the reason her eyes were red. I was not convinced. Eyes can get congested if one does not take oil bath on the day it is due but they do not swell.
"Ma," I said holding her with both hands on her shoulders and looking into her eyes, "tell me what's your sorrow."
"Nothing, like I said I missed oil bath," she said. We were in eye contact. She tried to look away but some force impelled her to keep her eyes from turning. I could see tears collecting and then pour down the cheeks. She fell into my open arms and sobbed.
"Mother darling, tell your son your troubles. I will see what can be done." We held tightly to each other. It is not in our culture for grown up sons to hug mothers this way. With daughters it would have been natural. But she was in such distress and so much in need of support from her only friend that spontaneously we hugged. After a while her sobbing subsided. Then she spoke.
"Your father," she said between sobs, "is carrying on with Taruni."
"Your maid?"
"Yes."
"How do you know?"
"I saw with my own eyes."
"How?"
"I came home early this afternoon because the school closed. I opened the door. I saw your father's shoes in the rack and also Taruni's slippers. I got suspicious. There has never been anything in their behaviour for me to suspect anything but one can never say with a man like your father. Silently I went to his bedroom. There was nothing there. I went to the kitchen and peeped in. And there I saw them united in sex." She broke down once again.
"You know what I did Visu?" she said amidst sobbing, "Like a thief escaping from a house I silently sneaked back to school. Your father has reduced me to that state." I held her and spoke endearing words into her ear as she wept. It was a while before she calmed down.
"What are you going to do?"
"Nothing."
"Nothing?"
"Yes, nothing." Suddenly her eyes went dry and glinted with determination. "I have thought about it and I have decided what my course of action should be. I will pretend that I know nothing. I cannot mend your father. That's for sure, and I can't lose the best servant maid I have ever had. I will accept the situation and move on." Psychologists have so far not written about the Indian mistress and her top servant woman. When they do, as they doubtless would, they may find it possible to explain the surprising response of my mother to the satisfaction of the unbelieving readers of this chronicle.
My mother quite spontaneously has found a way out of the impasse. She would need my support to move on.
"Don't worry Ma. I will take father's place. I'll protect you, care for you and see to it that you are happy. She nestled closer to me. We were on the sofa. I was on my back and she to one side of me. We were cheek against cheek and I was kissing on all parts of her face and she was passively but willingly accepting my kisses. She was on the edge of the sofa continually slipping and I had to be pulling her up. I thought it was better to sit up. Still holding her I sat up and then pulled her to me. My hand happened on one of her breasts as I was pulling her up. Even before I could remove the hand she placed her hand on my hand. To me it appeared that she wanted to assure me that she knew it was unintentional. Once again tried to release my hand but mother put pressure on it and would not allow my hand to go. My first assumption was wrong. She was telling me as plainly as if she had spoken that she liked my hand on her breast. I gave her reason to believe that I liked it too. This is what happened. The cuddling and the contact with the breast brought on an erection. My penis was hard and it was pressing the cleft of her buttocks. No way could she not have felt it over her thin sari. It was at that moment that son's love for his mother and mother's love for her son took on an added dimension.
Our hands remained frozen for some time and then mother squeezed my hand which in turn squeezed her breast. Whatever doubt remained was now gone. Shamed by the enormity of her action she got up and without a backward look hurried to the kitchen. I sat still dizzy from what had happened. My mother was demanding a more intimate relationship with her son. She had the need. She had none with her husband and a woman of 38 who was still menstruating is bound to have sexual desires. It was my responsibility to do what my mother wanted. To the world it might appear to be the most heinous of deeds but to me it was a mother's request in her desperation and it thus had the force of a command. I had to obey.
Mother soon came out with a tumbler of coffee. She handed it over but was looking away. She could not bring herself to look at her son after she had expressed sexual love for him. I was amused to see her behave like a teenager. It was tender. I drank the coffee and then went to the kitchen as if to place the used cup in the sink. Mother was busy peeling potatoes. I stood behind her.
"Mother, turn round and look at me." She bent her head and giggled like a school girl. I held her by the shoulder and turned her. She would not lift up her head. I bent down to look up at her. She turned her head the other way.
"Hold my hand," I said. I offered a hand and she held it.
"Now once again do what you did a few minutes ago." She would not. I reached for her cheek and kissed her. "Mother darling you must," I pleaded. I kissed her on the forehead, eyes, cheeks, neck, nape of neck every where except the lips. "Mother darling please." And then slowly and deliberately she lifted up my hand that she was holding all the while. She took my hand behind the pallav of her sari and placed it on her bare breast. I gasped. At what point she had bared her breast I know not. It was so soft and yielding. I could feel the firmness of the nipple. She pressed my hand as if to squeeze. I needed no second invitation. I squeezed on my own and then with two fingers I plucked the nipple. We hugged and kissed passionately on the lips.
"Now like a good boy you get on with your other duties," she said. Other duties, indeed! I left.It was late in the evening. Nothing more was possible till late afternoon of the morrow.
"Ma," I said holding her with both hands on her shoulders and looking into her eyes, "tell me what's your sorrow."
"Nothing, like I said I missed oil bath," she said. We were in eye contact. She tried to look away but some force impelled her to keep her eyes from turning. I could see tears collecting and then pour down the cheeks. She fell into my open arms and sobbed.
"Mother darling, tell your son your troubles. I will see what can be done." We held tightly to each other. It is not in our culture for grown up sons to hug mothers this way. With daughters it would have been natural. But she was in such distress and so much in need of support from her only friend that spontaneously we hugged. After a while her sobbing subsided. Then she spoke.
"Your father," she said between sobs, "is carrying on with Taruni."
"Your maid?"
"Yes."
"How do you know?"
"I saw with my own eyes."
"How?"
"I came home early this afternoon because the school closed. I opened the door. I saw your father's shoes in the rack and also Taruni's slippers. I got suspicious. There has never been anything in their behaviour for me to suspect anything but one can never say with a man like your father. Silently I went to his bedroom. There was nothing there. I went to the kitchen and peeped in. And there I saw them united in sex." She broke down once again.
"You know what I did Visu?" she said amidst sobbing, "Like a thief escaping from a house I silently sneaked back to school. Your father has reduced me to that state." I held her and spoke endearing words into her ear as she wept. It was a while before she calmed down.
"What are you going to do?"
"Nothing."
"Nothing?"
"Yes, nothing." Suddenly her eyes went dry and glinted with determination. "I have thought about it and I have decided what my course of action should be. I will pretend that I know nothing. I cannot mend your father. That's for sure, and I can't lose the best servant maid I have ever had. I will accept the situation and move on." Psychologists have so far not written about the Indian mistress and her top servant woman. When they do, as they doubtless would, they may find it possible to explain the surprising response of my mother to the satisfaction of the unbelieving readers of this chronicle.
My mother quite spontaneously has found a way out of the impasse. She would need my support to move on.
"Don't worry Ma. I will take father's place. I'll protect you, care for you and see to it that you are happy. She nestled closer to me. We were on the sofa. I was on my back and she to one side of me. We were cheek against cheek and I was kissing on all parts of her face and she was passively but willingly accepting my kisses. She was on the edge of the sofa continually slipping and I had to be pulling her up. I thought it was better to sit up. Still holding her I sat up and then pulled her to me. My hand happened on one of her breasts as I was pulling her up. Even before I could remove the hand she placed her hand on my hand. To me it appeared that she wanted to assure me that she knew it was unintentional. Once again tried to release my hand but mother put pressure on it and would not allow my hand to go. My first assumption was wrong. She was telling me as plainly as if she had spoken that she liked my hand on her breast. I gave her reason to believe that I liked it too. This is what happened. The cuddling and the contact with the breast brought on an erection. My penis was hard and it was pressing the cleft of her buttocks. No way could she not have felt it over her thin sari. It was at that moment that son's love for his mother and mother's love for her son took on an added dimension.
Our hands remained frozen for some time and then mother squeezed my hand which in turn squeezed her breast. Whatever doubt remained was now gone. Shamed by the enormity of her action she got up and without a backward look hurried to the kitchen. I sat still dizzy from what had happened. My mother was demanding a more intimate relationship with her son. She had the need. She had none with her husband and a woman of 38 who was still menstruating is bound to have sexual desires. It was my responsibility to do what my mother wanted. To the world it might appear to be the most heinous of deeds but to me it was a mother's request in her desperation and it thus had the force of a command. I had to obey.
Mother soon came out with a tumbler of coffee. She handed it over but was looking away. She could not bring herself to look at her son after she had expressed sexual love for him. I was amused to see her behave like a teenager. It was tender. I drank the coffee and then went to the kitchen as if to place the used cup in the sink. Mother was busy peeling potatoes. I stood behind her.
"Mother, turn round and look at me." She bent her head and giggled like a school girl. I held her by the shoulder and turned her. She would not lift up her head. I bent down to look up at her. She turned her head the other way.
"Hold my hand," I said. I offered a hand and she held it.
"Now once again do what you did a few minutes ago." She would not. I reached for her cheek and kissed her. "Mother darling you must," I pleaded. I kissed her on the forehead, eyes, cheeks, neck, nape of neck every where except the lips. "Mother darling please." And then slowly and deliberately she lifted up my hand that she was holding all the while. She took my hand behind the pallav of her sari and placed it on her bare breast. I gasped. At what point she had bared her breast I know not. It was so soft and yielding. I could feel the firmness of the nipple. She pressed my hand as if to squeeze. I needed no second invitation. I squeezed on my own and then with two fingers I plucked the nipple. We hugged and kissed passionately on the lips.
"Now like a good boy you get on with your other duties," she said. Other duties, indeed! I left.It was late in the evening. Nothing more was possible till late afternoon of the morrow.
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