Back Seat

My son, sagar was, and still is, a good cricket-player. My wife aparna and I used to go with him to every game he played. Usually he went with his teammates in a bus while we trailed along in our car.

This time it was to be a little different. The team had made it to the finals in the Cup and it was to be played in a big city were there was an amusement park. We decided that we would spend the afternoon and evening there, which we all agreed sounded like fun.

The game went well, our son's team won and we were in high spirits as we entered the park where we spent the rest of the day riding various machines that hurled you hither and dither, up and down and so forth. We all had a great meal at one of the restaurants there, with a little glass of wine for sagar as well, before we tarted for home.

After we finished our meal, my wife and I got into an argument and she had a too much of beer. aparna and I were silent but sagar went on and on about the good time he'd had and didn't seem to notice his mother's sulking or my silence. When I
took a closer look in the rearview mirror, I could understand why. aparna had slid one leg behind his back and thrown the other over his lap, where she slumped sleeping in the corner of the dark car. I could clearly see all the way up her thighs to the beginning of the white crotch of her panties. aparna doesn't shave her pussy so there was a lot of hair sticking out of the leg bands of her panties. Our son was looking intently at them, and I'd bet he had acquired a raging hard-on looking at his mother!

Suddenly I saw that he had one hand on her knee, stroking it in circular movements. Where had he learned that? However, it sure was doing what he wanted it to do. aparna's legs slowly started to fall further and further apart, widening the gap between her thighs, giving us a much better view of her crotch. By now I had slowed down until I was driving at a mere fifty kilometers an hour but sagar didn't even notice;

I realized that I sat there, driving with a hard-on while watching my son fondle his mother! While I watched his hand start to creep farther up her thigh, I could feel the first drop of precum wet my boxers. Would he go all the way up to her pussy? Would she wake up? And if so, what would I do? What should I do? I decided to do nothing, for the time being at least.

Glancing occasionally at the road, I had my eyes glued at the scene in the back and watched my son's hand inch slowly up my wife's leg; up to the crotch of her panties, knowing from experience how easily my wife's sexual fire ignited once you touched her pussy. I just waited for that to happen!


And it did. My son's finger sneaked inside the leg band, grabbing a quick feel of his mother's vagina before he jerked the hand away, all the way back down to her knee. The feel was so quick and brief that I doubt that aparna even noticed it. I rather think she didn't, considering her drunken state.

He shot a quick glance at me to see if I had observed what he had done. Pretending not to notice, I reached for the radio and turned it on. Soon soft music filled the car. sagar seemed to take my fiddling with the radio as a sign that I hadn't noticed anything and soon his hand again started to stroke up his mother's leg. This time he reached his goal much faster and, without any preliminaries, he pushed a finger inside the leg band, directly onto his mother's cunt lips!


As I mentioned, my wife gets really hot once you've got your hand on her pussy. It's as if she no longer had control over her own feelings and, I doubt, over her own moral standards. and I have often thought that she'd would fuck anybody who had her pussy in his hand, and now it seemed as though my assumptions was were verified. Her hips started to move in slow rhythm as our son stroked her pussy. I almost moaned out aloud when her hips shot up very abruptly. I understood that my son had stuck a finger inside her cunt! I envied him the feeling! I knew that he could slide his finger inside her without any difficulty; knew that she was would be well lubricated by now.

Mesmerized, I watched as my son reached for his fly, unzipping it and taking out his stiff almost fifteen year old cock and stroking it in rhythm with his fingers working in and out of his mothers cunt! Suddenly he bent at his hips, pointed his cock at aparna's crotch and a load of sperm just flew out, covering the white cotton panties covering my wife's cunt! A low moan escaped his lips as the first load hit his mother and he had enough sense to look over at me to see if I had noticed. I was prepared for this and had my eyes on the road, but I watched him from the corner of my eyes.Satisfied for the moment, he let go of his cock, and reached over and pulled the covering gusset away. and Now he could see his own mother's cunt for the first time in his life! The big, protruding lips glistening with
her juices and his finger buried up to the second knuckle in it.

In the narrow screen of the mirror, I could see that his cock hadn't deflated in the least and, when he turned so he faced aparna, I wondered what he was up to. I didn't have to wonder for long. He scooted his hips forward and, with an effort, the tip of his cock made contact with his mothers sex! He withdrew his finger so he could enjoy the feeling of a pussy touching his cock for the first time! As aparna felt the finger withdraw, she grunted a little 'Miss-pleased' sounding grunt and forced her hips up and forward and, to my son's surprise, her pussy was open enough for his cock to slip in so that the its bulbous head was all the way inside the her wet cunt. He froze again at this feeling, but soon enough he took advantage of the situation that actually wasn't his doing, and started to fuck her! Once, when he got too eager, the his cock slipped out and both of them groaned in frustration. My wife bent her knees so that she came slid deeper down in the seat, making it easier for my son to get his cock in place position for penetration again. and Soon almost half of his cock was again buried in my wife! It didn't take him long to shoot his virgin load in a woman's cunt... and the fact that it was his mother's didn't seem to matter to him at this moment.By now the smell of sex was heavy in the confined space of the car but I didn't want to open a window. I just enjoyed the smell! Enjoyed the squelching sounds of my wife's wet cunt receiving another a cock other than mine, and a load of hot sperm other than mine. sagar, being a novice to this, of course didn't know that I could smell his mother's fragrance and he was too involved in the fuck to realize that I could hear the wet,
slapping sounds of his cock's pumping in his mother's cunt.

This time sagar was longer in cumming than the two previous times but it still wasn't much more than two or three minutes before he came in his mother's pussy for the second time. and After that, he seemed content for the time being. As soon as he had his cock back inside his pants and had covered his mother's newly fucked pussy with her panties and saree, I turned to him. "I don't think I can make it all the way home tonight. Why don't we stay over at the motel we just passed?" I asked innocently, as I turned around and drove the couple of kilometers back to the motel. "Try to wake your mother while I get us a room, will you?"

I went to the motel office and got us a double room. and, When I came back, aparna was still asleep in her corner of the backseat."I can't wake her, Dad. She's passed out."

I couldn't trace detect any accusation in his voice about of his mother's
being drunk and unconscious but I decided that I would have a talk with him
later about this.

"OK. You'll have to help me get her into bed than," I replied.

We were lucky that aparna was a petite woman because even the mere fifty some
kilos of this unconscious woman was hard to handle. sagar, who had taken the her legs part, had less difficulty than me, who had to cope with her arms and, although I had my hands crossed over her tits and her armpits on my upper arms, they seemed to want to slip away like an eel you try to hold in your hand.

Once we managed to get her into the room and onto the bed, and sagar stood back and looked around, a puzzled look on his face."Oh, they only had one vacant room so we'll have to make do with one bed. Come on, help me get your mother undressed," I told him After one long look at me, he eagerly stepped up to the bed. He stood still for a while and just looked at her, and then he looked up at me with a
question in his eyes.

"Why don't we start at the top and work down," I suggested? "You know this isn't like your mother at all. I think it is the first time ever that I have seen her like this."

"I know dad. She's the best."

"Yes I know you think so," I smiled. I couldn't stop myself from a little irony.

Slowly we got aparna naked on the bed and I pretended that I didn't see that her panties were wet. and looked at I watched sagar from the corners of my eyes as he enjoyed the sight of his naked mother. His eyes flicked over her body in quick sweeping glances from head to toe ... or rather from tits to cunt.

"Why don't you touch her?" I asked.

My son took a step back, looking at me with a haunted gleam in his eyes.

"Wh-what?!"

"Oh I saw you in the rearview-mirror. Take it easy," I quickly added as it looked as if he was going to run away; heaven knows what he would have done then.

"No, I'm not mad, I thought about it while I watched you. I think you are the solution to our, your mother's and my, problems. You see, I have to work a lot longer and harder and more now that I have reached the top of the company. I know you've noticed me being absent a lot in the last year or so. I don't want to burden you with adult worries, just let me say this,"

I saw that while I talked the desperate look in my son's eyes disappeared faded and instead I saw that he was now paying full attention to what I had to say.

"You see, both your mother and I have very high sex drives, or I used to have. Lately I just fall asleep when I hit the sack and your mother is usually all worked up and fully rested. She want's to take a part-time job and that would have been OK with me if it wasn't fore all the... Oh shit, let me put it bluntly, she's all worked up and horny and I'm afraid that she would find herself involved with a workmate sooner or later. and Nowadays you don't know what you could get from an
affair. So it gives us double many advantages. Your mother gets her needs seen to, you get safe sex and I don't have to worry about either of you two. So ... what do you say?"

My son looked at me and slowly his head started to drop. "I-I-m sorry, dad. I don't know what... I don't..."

"It's OK. I said so and I mean so it. Every boy has a dream about his mother. Usually it passes without anything happening. I know mine did. Yours didn't. But maybe you have fulfilled your dream already..."

"No!" sagar interrupted me. "No, it isn't. I would love it! But what about mom? How can we get her to accept me? As her... lover," he added a little lower.

"We have to gamble a little. But I don't think it's a big risk. Your mother is a very adaptable woman and she loves you very much."

"Mhm, me too, but..."

"Wait, I'll tell you a secret, and this is part of why I don't trust her with other
men outside home. Well, OK here it comes. Once you get your hand on your mother's vagina she's gone!"

"Gone?"

"Yes. She just can't seem to resist, can't refuse you, all her rational thinking goes down the drains and it all go from there!"

"Oh. I see. Oh I see!!! You mean that once she's awakes, before she's fully awake, I get my hand on her... her vagina and..."

"Yes."

"So we have to wait till morning then?" I could hear the disappointment in his voice.

"No. This is the bit that almost certainly will make this gamble into something that is only a little risky. We have to fill her with cum!"

"Oh?"

"Yes. Maybe she'll think that she was the instigator and that she's to blame. I only hope that she takes it the right way and doesn't get too guilty about it. You are, after all, her son and it isn't exactly something that happens every day that a mother and son becomes lovers."

At this my son's eyes left me and flicked over to his mother who was laying on the bed with her legs a little spread, enough for us to see the two big pussy lips peeking out through the rather thick forest of medium brown hair like an animal sniffing the air for danger, only these were sniffing for something totally different!

"I'll use the bathroom first. I just hope there are toothbrushes there. Oh, and don't start anything before I come back. Just enjoy the view for the time being," I added over my shoulder as I disappeared.

There were toothbrushes and soap and, after a quick piss and a wash, I was
back in the room, stark naked.

"Your turn," I said and my son disappeared into the bathroom.

He was back very soon, now just as naked as I. and Normally I would have chastised him for his sloppiness but tonight I understood why he had hastened through it. I too was eager to commence. It was, after all, not every day a man got to see his wife being fucked by another man! Well, in this case the man was a boy, but anyway...

"OK, here's what we're gonna do. First of all, I think I have to show you how your mother want's to be caressed for relaxation, that's not the same as getting her hot; first she want's to be relaxed, and then she want's to get aroused. You can always get a quickie out of it by just bluntly putting your hand on her pussy and a finger or two in her cunt. But that is not what I want, and I hope that you don't either."

"N-no."

"Good. A light kiss with a little tongue, not too much, is a good start." I demonstrated this to my son by kissing his mother lightly on her lips and I let my tongue brush over her dry, half-open lips.

"After that, a little kissing on her throat and, if possible, a nibble on her earlobe. Usually she's squirming a little by then so this could be difficult, but if so, just continue kissing her down over her chest. Suck lightly on her nipples, like this."

I demonstrated all my words by acting them out so there were slight pauses
between them. I was a little surprised, but not much, when I felt the nipple stiffen when my lips closed around it. aparna's nipples, as well as all the other erogenous zones, are very sensitive to stimulation. Not as much as her cunt though.

As I said before, once you get your hand on her pussy lips, she's totally wasted. At that point there is no more resistance left in her. It's all go from there. I didn't otice it when we first dated. Her adamant refusal to let me touch her below the waist I thought was a mere attempt to preserve her virginity till our wedding night and since she willingly gave me hand jobs whenever we petted, I had nothing to complain about. She even gave me a blowjob once in a while.

On our wedding night she was hot and willing and, as soon as I got my hand
between her legs and cupped her hairy cunt in my hand, she gave up and just
lay still - that is till I got a finger inside her. Then her hips shot up and soon she was rocking her pussy along my finger, moaning and mewing. I found this so erotic that I continued fingering her till she begged me to fuck her! I was willing and obeyed her and she was off like a rocket on New Years Eve! She came as soon as I had half of my cock inside her very, very tight pussy. There was no membrane that needed to be broken. Later she confessed to me that her finger had done that for her and that she'd never had had anything bigger than her own middle finger inside her.

The quick orgasms slowed down a little for every year we were married but she always came with rippling orgasms once she started, one after the other in rapid successions. It added an extra dimension to our lovemaking since her pussy's milking my cock was so wonderful and intense that I, during fourteen years of marriage, never once was tempted to even flirt with another woman.

When my tutoring tour I reached her lower belly on, my wife's stomach muscles tensed, also as usual. and When my lips brushed over her pussy lips, her legs fell out open a little more. At this point I stopped and gestured to our son that it was his turn.

He repeated every one of my actions and added a little more by letting his tongue slip down into the deep hole of her navel. When he had brushed his lips over his mother's pussy lips, he added yet another thing, he inhaled deeply! Smelling Inhaling his mother's smell from the source for the first time! After that he gave the hairy cunt a long look, and then dipped down and drew his tongue along the crinkled swollen outer lips. His mother's hips flew up, taking him by surprise. He almost jumped back but stopped in his movements and only lifted his head, and looking up at his mother's sleeping face. It had changed a little since we last looked at it. Now her lips were parted and her teeth were biting her lower lip.

"It's OK, she's still out," I whispered, encouraging our son. "I think it's best if you fuck her first. My cock is still bigger than yours and if I would do her first you would get hardly any friction."

Eagerly our son positioned himself for getting his cock inside his mother's pussy for the second time this night. and Soon he was deep inside her and the sparse hair surrounding his cock was nestled with aparna's thick growth. and Then he started to pump into her in earnest!

"Wait! Wait!" I exclaimed. "Take it easy. It's just as like playing soccer. It lasts more than just one half. You have to keep up till make sure the woman cums first. Then it is time for your own pleasure. Remember that the women have to have at least one orgasm before you cum. I know it is impossible just now, you're probably going to cum any moment now, but remember it for later..."

sagar had stopped, with his cock still deep inside his mother's cunt, while he listened to my advice. and After that he again started to fuck her, this time in long, and slow motions strokes and it lasted which continued for almost three minutes! Then he shot his load into his mother with a grunting noise and fell down collapsed on top of her, and then slowly he rolled over and off her. and As I looked down at my wife's pussy, I saw it squeeze out some of our son's sperm and watched as it ran down to the crack of her ass, and then continued down onto the sheet. I just had to get inside her before all of that wetness had ran out of her!

I got in slipped between her legs and, with one thrust, I was buried in her cunt
hot, very wet cunt. and To my surprise, it just clamped down on my cock with a force that I hadn't felt since our honeymoon! And three or four strokes later it happened again! A rippling along my cockshaft announced another climax and, sure enough, at the next inward grinding her cunt again spasmed around my cock. and After that she gave up all her pretenses and flung her legs up, and locking them behind my ass in her favorite grip! Her eyes opened and she looked me in the eyes and smiled at me. A happy smile. A smile full of fulfillment and happiness.

"Thank you," she mouth before she again closed her eyes and gave herself away to the fuck. Her strong pussy-muscles soon, all too soon, forced the my own orgasm. out of and My load shot out of my cock with a force that surprised me ... and must have surprised my wife too because her eyes flew open.

"Oh my god! I can feel it! I can feel it!
It's been so long! So long!"

As soon as my orgasm had subsided, she pushed me away gently and reached for our son. "Come to mummy. Come," she whispered and our son willingly climbed aboard.

Three hours later we all seemed to be satisfied and I was the last to fuck her. sagar was already snoring softly on her other side as I drifted off to sleep. and The last I heard was when she murmured, to no one in particular. "Well, I know two things; first of all I aint to be blamed and I will have more than one hell of a headache tomorrow!"

Then, almost as an afterthought, aparna murmured once more, to the room in
general before she fell asleep, "I think I'm gonna ache in at least one more place than in my head tomorrow."

A mothers Command

I am a twenty year old student of an engineering college in Chennai, India. My story is very strange. The problem is I do not know whether I am a hero or a villain. I think my deeds are pure but the world without second thought would say that I have plumbed the depth of ignominy. This is my story.

My home is on the seventh floor of a high rise block of flats in Purasawalkam, a crowded ancient part of Chennai. My father owns a shop selling electrical goods. My mother is a teacher in a middle school within walking distance of my home. The fourth member of our household is the top servant woman. She comes in the morning at seven and after washing the dishes, sweeping the house, laundering, and helping my mother with cooking leaves at ten for a fast food restaurant where she is the specialist samosa folder. Though only 32 she is a widow having lost her husband to the popular brew called arrack. She and her two children aged 18 and 21 live in a tiny house at the end of our street.

By the time the top servant woman finishes her chores at ten we three would have left for our duties. I leave at eight, my father shortly before nine and my mother shortly after nine. As all four have a house key each that is no problem. One morning I had forgotten to take the exam application form. It was the last day for submission so I rushed home. It was a few minutes past ten. I used my key to get in. I collected the form and was filling it when I heard the door click open. I heard something heavy and soft thud on the divan. It was the maid bringing in the laundry that she had hung to dry on the terrace. She could not have known that I was in the house. As she was folding the clothes she was humming a tune. I have never heard her warbling before. She sang well. I could hear her open the clothes almirah to replace the folded clothes. The singing now emanated from the kitchen. Her work for the day was over but she was in no great hurry to leave. I thought she was taking some rest before leaving for the fast food joint. It was not so. She was waiting for something more sensational. I heard the door open once again. I wondered who it could be. A male voice spoke.

"Taruni," it said. I froze. It was my father's. That was the maid's name. I have never heard my father talking to the maid least of all calling her by name, and here he was calling her most lovingly. I silently moved to the next room and climbed to the loft in that room. At one end of the loft there is a gap in the wall blocked with wooden trellis. It overlooks the kitchen. I crouched comfortably in the darkness and had a ring-side seat to watch the thrilling event that was now to take place. I admit that my action was unworthy of a gentleman.

My father and the maid were in a tight embrace. Soon he was peeling off her clothes. The sari was the first to go and then the blouse and bra and finally the skirt. The woman was naked. Lean and comely she had a shapely pair of breasts that sagged just enough to enhance their beauty; her buttocks were firm and her pubic mound nicely convex. She was not clean shaven but had trimmed the pubic hair short. I could criticize my father's morals but not his taste. His wife, my mother who is just 38 is prettier, but of course wife's good looks never stood in the way of a husband seeking mistresses. The maid now went about preparing soup from a can that she opened. My father sat and watched the naked girl at work. He must have enjoyed the sight. He must also have passed on his taste for seeing naked girls do homely chores to his son for I found that sight most erotic.

My father was now moving stools and chairs about as if he was a ring master in a big cat show in a circus. He placed a large stool against the wall and a chair against it. It was a well practised move. It was of course apparent that this affair has been going on for months. I wondered what this odd arrangement of chair and stool was for. I got the answer soon enough. Taruni sat on the stool with back against the wall. My father sat on the chair facing her. Taruni lifted her feet and placed it on either side of father's thighs. She had her thighs widely apart and her vulva was in grand display. Father who had by now discarded his clothes was holding the soup bowl in one hand and as he sipped his other hand was either kneading her breasts or rubbing her clitoris. From time to time as if to vary the taste he took a sip from one or other nipple. Soon the soup bowl was empty. Incidentally even though my father offered her soup she declined. The maid knew were to draw the line in a master servant relationship!

The time was now ripe for the finale. They had a well practised routine. My father who is strong and well built lifted Taruni in the folded state she was in and planted her on the table used for kitchen work. From my hide I could she her spread thighs and her vulva with lips parted. My father then took his erect and good sized penis towards the vaginal opening and she helpfully took hold of it and inserted it in. Both were in a pumped up state owing to the strange foreplay. Judging from the movements and the moaning they must have had their climaxes in unison. They held on to each other for quite a while and then they parted. Taruni climbed up the sink and washed her vulva. Even in that tense moment I wondered what my mother, a stickler for cleanliness, would say if she knew the unusual use her maid was putting her sink to. They dressed quickly. A brief hug and my father left and after resetting the furniture she left. I did not. I had an urgent task to perform. I went to the bathroom and masturbated. As so often happens in our world it is the innocents who sneak out. I left like a thief, looking this way and that.

The stirring event that I witnessed was not a shock to me. My father was a womaniser. That was no secret. He has been the star of several scandals. My mother must have had it out with him in her earlier years but now she was reconciled to it. She rarely spoke to him and they slept in different rooms. What was disturbing was that the affair should be happening under our roof and involving our maid with a thriving family. It did not look good. I felt deeply for my mother, a gentle and kindly teacher much loved by her pupils. If she comes to know of it even her resilience would not be enough. I thought about it in the days that followed. I decided that my mother needs me.

For the next few days I watched the maid as she went about her duties. There was nothing, absolutely nothing to show that she was carrying on a spectacular affair with the master of the house. My father gave nothing away either. They of course never spoke to each other and my father hardly ever looked in her direction. They were communicating with each other of that there was no doubt. That afternoon the maid was waiting for him with soup bowl and can with opener ready. When and how he sent his messages I know not.

2

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.

3

I had a busy time in college the next day. My professor, two of my classmates and I were intensely at work preparing for a presentation. I came home a bit late and immediately after had an accident. I slipped in the bathroom. I managed not to fall but in the process sprained the small of my back. I hobbled back to my room. Mother made me lie face down on the bed and rubbed ointment to my back. She said that very hot bath after the ointment had seeped in was a certain cure for back ache. The geyser was not to be trusted to deliver really hot water. She heated up water to near boiling in the oven and carried it to the bathroom. I moved with gingerly steps to the bathroom not savouring the prospect of scalding.

Mother was getting the buckets ready for mixing the water. I had to undress. For a moment I hesitated and then I removed my shirt and then my lungi. Once again I was naked in front of my mother but for the first time after attaining adulthood. I was far from being shy. It was thrilling. I watched for mother's reaction. There was none. For all the effect it produced in her I could have been a three year old.

She tested the water with her fingers before pouring it down my neck. She gave me a bath as I sat on a stool. It a delightful to feel her soft hands applying soap to my face neck and body. It was at this moment that I got an erection. There was no way I could hide it. Even if I could I would not have. I was proud of it and wanted my mother to see her son in all his manly glory. Mother once again took no notice of the change. She did my body and then the thighs and legs. When she was doing my legs my penis often touched her. She did not seem to notice it. Finally she came to the scrotum. She washed it with such delicacy that when she rubbed my testicles I felt no discomfort. The penis meanwhile was erect pointing upwards as it always does. Mother then collected some soap from the pubic hair and rubbed the penis.

"You are tense Visu for quite some time now," said mother, "it is not good to leave you like this. Can I jerk you off?" It was a stunning statement for a young man to hear from his mother. I was speechless. "Why no answer. If you feel shy you can do it after I leave."

"You do it mother," I said. Mother pulled a slightly lower stool and sat on it. Then she collected more soap from the pubic hair and expertly worked her hand up and down my penis. She looked up.

"Am I doing it well," she asked.

"Wonderfully mother," I said. I was working up to ejaculation using my mother as the fantasy object.

"Faster Mom, I am coming." Mother speeded up.

"Closer to the tip mother," I said. I was losing grip altogether. I inserted my hands under her blouse. The press buttons gave way and the blouse opened out. I cupped both bare breasts. Mother was working with speed.

"Your hands would get soiled mother," I said.

"You don't mind me. I want it soiled," she said in an emotion tinged voice. I could feel the semen coming. At that moment one hand of mine almost without my knowledge slid between the sari and abdomen and reached the clitoris. Her vulva was wet all over. She was tense too and as much in need of release as I was. As I rubbed the delicate firm knob that was the clitoris I ejaculated and she climaxed. Mother and son were on each other in one writhing mass.

Semen was all over her. Soon she was in the nude too as we gave each other a bath. I soaped every part of her giving extra attention to her breasts and vulva. Then we wiped each other and then we lay on the bed in a tight skin to skin embrace.

4

When I woke up mother was not by my side and I found a lungi round my waist, apparently my mother's handiwork. I checked the time. I had been asleep for a little less than an hour. I freshened myself and went in search of my mother. She was in the drawing room.

"Ma, what's the matter? Why are you sad? Still thinking of father?"

"She turned towards me and shook her head.

"Then what?"

"My behaviour towards you was totally unworthy of a mother."

"Ma, I don't agree. Your husband has disowned you and has taken your maid as his mistress and is having sex with her in your own kitchen. You are young enough with normal, legitimate urges. To whom can you turn but your son? He has to take over all the duties that your husband has to perform but does not. No, Ma you are right in seeking your son's help and your son will only be performing his duty."

I was not lusting for sex. When my mother squeezed my hand over her breast I could sense how desperate her need must have been for her to make such a gesture. I was duty bound to follow up. I held her hand and drew her towards me. I put my arm round her shoulder and kissed her on the cheek. She placed her arm round my neck and rested her head on my chest. We sat for a long time holding each other. Mother nestled into my arms and I kept kissing her repeatedly on the cheeks.

"Darling Ma, come we will move to the bedroom," I said. She turned and looked at me as if to say 'are you sure we will be doing no wrong?'

"Absolutely," I said answering her thoughts.

She was wearing a light blue skirt and white loose top. I removed the top and pulled the knot on the skirt tape. The skirt dropped with no opposition from her. I removed my lungi and we lay down pressing against each other. Gradually mother relaxed and was getting sexually excited. Bare bodies rolling about in total contact is a pleasure that has to be experienced. It was pleasant to feel her breasts against my body and my thighs against her vulva. She must have loved it too for she often pressed her breasts on me and as often put her leg over me and came closer to let her vulva rub my thighs. At times she would leave a little bit of vulval moisture on my skin. One cannot imagine anything more exquisite than that wetness. This went on for quite a while. She then sat up and pulled my head to her lap. She offered a nipple that I first sucked and then bit with lips covered teeth. She held my cheek and mumbled tender baby talk. It was a pure mother-child moment. She now lay back and spread her thighs. I took this as a hint for me to lick.

"Why are you looking at it like that," she said for my eyes were riveted on her vulva.

"I was wondering how so big an object as myself could have come out of that small opening," I said.

"I often wonder too," she said.

"You are very wet," I said. She indeed was for the secretions from her vulva had spread to her inner thighs,"

"It has never happened before," she said. "You must be the reason." The prolonged foreplay had aroused her to a high pitch of excitement. She climaxed almost immediately to my stimulation. I then got on top. We made eye contact as she held my penis and inserted it in. She smiled uncertainly. The feeling that she must be doing wrong still lingered. She was so wet that it slipped in as if sucked. It was not an emotional moment for me. It was as if I was performing something that I have to do.
We had a massive orgasm. Exhausted we snoozed in each other's arms.

This was to become the routine but never more frequently than once every three or four weeks. The rest of the days we were like any mother and son. I suppressed my urges and took no initiative at all. I was doing it for her. That much was clear. She had a curious way of indicating that she wanted me. She would wear the blue skirt and the white top, and of course her body language was very expressive.

Our home is now working to the changed rhythm. My mother and I never return home at odd hours lest we disturb father and Taruni. My father and the maid have a free run of the house in the early afternoon hours.

One unexpected fall out was the disappearance of the background resentment against the husband that was poisoning her mind. That and the wonderful new relationship with son has made her a very happy woman.

As I put down my experiences on paper it slowly dawned on me that I have not done anything that I should be ashamed of. I may not be a hero but I certainly deserve credit for doing my filial duty.