This is a work of fiction of a mad man with mad tastes.
I am Priya. One can call me a very traditional but trendy, conservative, simple housewife who happens to be an ardent teacher of Carnatic dance at a nearby school. My husband, Ravi is a busy merchant. I am in my 40s and he is 60. We have been happily married for 25 years and we have a son, Deva who is 24 years old and works in government service.
My routine since the time of marriage has been pretty much the same. I wake up at 4 am, do the chores, send those soldiers to the battlefield, go to dance school, maintain the home and serve my lovely soldiers when they are back from fighting the world.
What I am going to narrate changed my life upside down. In the 25th year of my marriage, a series of events made me lose myself in a bottomless pit of myriad sensations of such rapture which any traditional woman would be ashamed to even share even though they secretly yearn for it in their darkest fantasies. Such was the wickedness, wildness, debauchery, and perverted lustfulness that I was awakened into. And the awakener was none other than my own son.
It all started a few years back when Deva had just started a job in government service. As any loving traditional parents would do at that juncture, we wanted to get our son married. But Deva was adamant as hell that he would not marry. He had no girlfriend, no relationship, no love interest of any kind even though several girls- some daughters of my friends, were attracted and drooling over his mere strong masculine appearance and deep voice.
My son cannot be described as the charming talkative type. He is taciturn. Spends time working out, traveling, and reading. He moves his imposing body quietly but confidently. He is very thoughtful and preempts much of my needs before I even have to raise them. He gets me a waterbag when I get periods, watches over me when I am taking classes, makes delicious parathas and paneer, makes me laugh when I worry and takes me out when needed. He is such a gentleman and I see no reason why he should remain unmarried.
Thoroughly fed up after his 65th rejection of the proposal, I decided to have a serious conversation with him. That evening, I went to his room. He was inside the bathroom showering after his gym time.
I sat on his bed and noticed his laptop. I saw images of a saree-clad woman’s behind. Buxom, shapely beautiful figures. It felt quite funny too because the saree in the image was almost the same saree I was wearing. Or is it?! Before I could get to seek the saree in close, my son came out wearing his white kurta and pajamas.
“Kya hein, maa?” Dev smiled.
“Young man!” I blurted.
“What is it?” Deva quipped. His hair was disheveled, but his eyes were calm and quiet, despite my temper. He even seemed to be finding humor in it.
“So many good proposals and you reject everything with impunity. At least give them a read before rejecting!”
“Why should I waste my time? Rejection is the right response or else I will ruin the life of another person.”
I made him sit near me.
“What’s really bothering you, son?” I asked.
“ I’ve been meaning to answer this, maa. Now I think it is the right time. I want you to listen carefully maa. Don’t judge.”
“Okay” I whispered, looking at his composed eyes.
“I’m..I’m obsessed with your ass, mother. Nothing else turns me on. No other woman arouses me. I’ve tried it many times but failed. I respond to your ass. Only to your beautiful ass.”
I felt my like I got hit by seven speeding trains.
“Chiiii! You idiot! You dirty swine! How could you even think like this! Hey Bhagwan!! What has my son become!! This is most disgusting!!!”
Dev was silent. In his silence, I regained my composure.
“Should I tell this to your father?”
“Will that help, maa? It will not solve anything apart from jeopardizing my marital future.”
“What will help you, Dev?”
“I’ve tried forgetting, masturbating, everything..but it is not working maa.”
Slowly, I realized.
“The woman in your laptop screen..it’s..its..?” I trembled.
“It is you, mother” Dev completed.
We sat for a few minutes in silence. I could not even look into my son’s eyes.
“Maa” Dev broke the silence.
“There is perhaps one way you can help. You see, I fantasize and have these fetishes due to wild imaginations..perhaps..if I can come back to reality and perhaps if I can really experience your ass to my heart’s content…then the cravings might be satiated. And then I might be to respond to other women.”
“Chiiii! It’s so immoral”, I responded.
“It is just like I craved for chole battura the first time, mother. Remember the story you used to say..when I was a kid, I cried and cried and fought for it. But after some months, I let go of my obsession to chole battura and moved on to other dishes.”
I sat there for some time and thought over it.
Perhaps he is right. This might be the only way to ensure that he gets to be with a girl and lead a normal life. A matter of a few days or weeks, then he will get over his obsession and be like a normal person.
So I agreed by laying down some conditions.
“You can feel my ass as much as you wish. I will be available whenever you message me. But you must promise that you will not touch or feel any other body part of mine. You will remove my clothing only to the extent of seeing my ass.”
“Okay. I promise. Thank you, mother,” Dev’s eyes brightened up, but as I walked out, I saw his smile and he looked like a wolf. A kind but very hungry wolf.
“Tomorrow, beta” I said.
“Tonight.” he corrected. “After papa has slept, come to my room in this very same saree, ma.” he smiled.
“Geez beta!” I could not help but blush.
“You’ll be safe with me mother, you know that.”
“I trust you, son.” My heart was pounding 100 miles.
That night, as agreed, I slipped out of our marital bed and walked in the darkness upstairs to our son’s room. It was all going to be quick business. He would fondle my bummer and meddle with it for some time and that’s it, work will be done and we both can go back to leading our normal life, or so I thought as I walked into Dev’s dimly lit room.
As I turned and stood on my toes, stumbling to lock the door, I felt my son’s giant hand come in to aid. With his right hand, he put on the lock while his left palm gently groped the back of my saree. His fingers traced the contours of my left cheek and slowly glided. Just as my son reached the part where the ass ends and thigh begins, he clenched his fingers and grabbed my soft butt cheek. Sensations trickled down my body as it was the very first time someone teased down there.
His strong palms briefly relaxed before grabbing my soft flesh again, and yet another heavy gasp escaped my lips. Our eyes met for the first time. I looked into him quietly, I felt the whole world stop into a dance of inaction. Just as I was relaxing, his strong palm grabbed my cheeks again. He pressed again and again. I gasped again and again. I leaned myself on the door and arched my ass outwards.
“Is this okay, son?”
“Oh Yes maaa..” Dev was now directly behind me, running both hands on my cheeks, gauging its contours and softness.
He whispered into my ears how he yearned for this moment and how much he wished to squeeze my soft flesh. As he whispered his fantasy to me which was turning into reality, his squeezes became firm and rough, firmer, and rougher. The room was filled with silent gasps of the mother and son.
“Is it difficult in the saree? I think mommy in petticoat will be better for your hands,” I told him between his squeezes.
“Not today, mom” Dev gasped. “It’s risky to spend more time here again with papa around.”
My son then gave a wrenching squeeze on my cheeks before releasing his hands and opening the door for me.
“Maa, don’t wash yourself today. Okay?”
I nodded.
We kissed each other a formal mother-son good night kiss before parting. I went to our room, removed my saree and snuggled up inside my husband. As he sheepishly opened his eyes, I grabbed his hand and placed it on my ass.
“Squeeze me, Ravi. Squeeze me” I pleaded but my words went unanswered. I snuggled inside the blanket and drifted off to sleep.
At 4 am, as usual, I made my way into the kitchen for the day’s chores. The pink blouse and petticoat from the night was comfortable on me. As I walked sleepily to the kitchen, I was greeted by Deva. He was devouring my voluptuous curvy frame, fertile waist and protruding mommy boobs and at once I could see his cock throbbing in his pajamas. While talking, as I turned toward the stove, he gave a tight slap on my left ass cheek. God knows why but it sent shivers through my spine and I shuddered a little.
“Hey, hold it there!” I mock scolded.
A few seconds later, he gave a tight slap to my right ass cheek and moved away before I could catch him. Any time I turned away from him, he would squeeze, pinch and slap. This gimmick continued till I finally caught him, pushed him to the wall and warned him not to irritate me. He agreed smilingly and promised he’d never repeat it.
But just as I turned away and barely walked 3 steps, my mom held my waist, pulled me back, and grabbed my ass with brute strength that I moaned. I fell on his strong arms. He pinned my naked waist with his left arm and pulled me towards him, while wildly squeezing my ass cheeks with his right palm. He squeezed and mauled and kneaded my cheeks till we both ended up panting and sweating. I loved it. It felt phenomenal.
After the session, he helped me cook and we split up before Ravi woke up.
End of part 1.
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