Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 The beginning

   My name is Divya Iyer.  I was a 39 year-old, married wife and mother of
two, and my whole life I'd been wearing a mask, a façade of piety, that of
a model child, and a perfect housewife, a wholesome primness that had been
foisted on me by my mother and father.

   Born in Mylapore, Chennai, in the state of Tamil Nadu, India, I was as
born into one of the most conservative and traditional cultures in India. I
grew up under the direction and tutelage of a strict lawyer father, and a
very religious mother -- herself a daughter of a leading music maestro from
a family of artists-- and I learned early that I was to be, first and
foremost, a very Good Girl.

   There were so many rules, that it will take a book to list them down.  I
was not allowed to watch most English movies (if they had U/A certificate
it was of limits), and even some hindi or tamil movies which showed even a
hint of sexuality.  I was not allowed to go on school and college trips. 
Even though I studied in a girl's school.

   But first and foremost, the biggie, numero uno, number one on the Good
Girl list was: Good Girls would never dream of having a boyfriend let alone
even think of talking of sex -- whatever that was -- before marriage --
thereby bringing shame to her family and displeasing Gods.  Sex was a taboo
subject in my parent's home.  The few friends that were viewed as
appropriate for me to associate with wouldn't discuss it either.  When I
was in my early teens and tried to broach the subject with my mother, I was
informed, in no uncertain terms, that Good Girls didn't talk about sex.  I
did not even dare to talk to my father about it.

   So I grew up a Good Girl.  I did what was expected of me and made my
parents proud.  I strove to be proper in thought, word and deed -- and, for
the most part, I was successful.  I was very good at studies, I was a
decent dancer, and excelled in Carnatic music pleasing my mother no end.  I
still shudder at the embarrassment I went through when I became a woman
(read periods), with my mother not being helpful with explanation on what
was happening with my body.  I graduated with high marks from school,
studies English literature in a leading college in Chennai, and performed
at music festivals.  I grew up beautiful, quite tall for an Indian girl,
very fair following my mother.

   The problem was that I sensed, long before I left home to start my own
life, I really wasn't a Good Girl at all.  I felt something inside of me
that was completely contradictory to the Good Girl Rules.  I was acutely
aware through much of high school and my entire college career that
something burned inside me; something hot and powerful and alive.  I wasn't
able to identify it and it confused me.  It was something that, on the one
hand, terrified me to the core, and on the other, created a powerful
excitement in my belly.

   It started happening when I was in my teens.  Even the chaste movies
does show love, does show romance, and I was hopelessly taken by that.  I
would imagine myself as the girl whom the handsome hero is romancing, and
even kissing scenes were not shown in these goody movies, I was able to
understand from some of my more "naughtier" girlfriends what the hero and
heroine were doing behind the trees!.

   And yes, I was attracted to men.  I was able to hide it from my family,
but in my mind I longed to be held up by handsome man, longed to hold
hands, longed to go to the beach and walk hand in hand, longed desperately
for him to tell me I am beautiful, longed...  for a kiss, and I as I got
older longed for a lot more.  I was ashamed initially, petrified that my
parents will find out about the real me.....  But I was able to hide this
(what was very normal, but for me at that age, was evil)

   But Good Girls weren't allowed to feel such things and so I fought
against the feelings that were such a mystery.  They didn't go away,
exactly, but I was able to keep them bottled up and I certainly didn't act
on them.

   I was 21 and I graduated with a gold medal.  By that time my parents
were into groom hunting with a vengeance.  It was like corporate merge and
acquisition work.  They found the "perfect match" (in their books).  IIT
Chennai Computer Engineer, US MS degree, job in a one of the largest IT
companies in the world.  Good family, father a IAS office or repute,
grandfather one of the most famous lawyers in the country.....  they were
ecstatic.  The fact that Mr.  Ramesh Iyer was 11 years older to me, was
only as tall as my 5 feet 6 inches, has a small pot belly, wore thick
glasses, and had receding hairline, did not bother them.  I tried to find
reasons to say no, but there was no chance.  The entire family was super
thrilled at the "catch".

   In fact I did not even meet him other than at the "engagement ceremony"
after which he flew back to US, back to his job.  He used to call me and we
used to talk, but it was more of him talking about the great things he is
doing in high performance computing.  Already I had a bad feeling about
what was in store for me.  Were married in pompous ceremony in Chennai. 
Then everything was a blur.  My world came crashing down during our "first
night" when he said that the "time is not right" and gave me chaste kiss
and rolled over to sleep.  When it finally happened in about a week's time
(when the time was right for him"), it was painful.  He was in a hurry to
prove himself, and wanted to lights to be off.  I remember lying down like
a doll, as he gave me a few kissed on my lips, mauled my breasts and
fumbled to put his thing in me.  It was all over in 3 minutes!!!.

   Then in a few months, I was in New Jersey, at his nice suburban house.
It was a huge change, and eventually it somewhat made up for my
disappointment with Ramesh.  Here without the controls of parents and
family I built a life.  But before I get into that, thanks to interest of
Ramesh's family, we were not using a birth control, and even with the
extremely feeble attempts by Ramesh, he got me pregnant within 2 months of
getting married.  And once I got married, he was more concerned about the
safety of the baby and I just became a baby carrying machine.  He insisted
that my mother come over and all my time was spent with her, and when she
had to go back to India, with his mother.  During those 9 months, he never
bothered to ask me how I felt, or to cuddle, or to kiss my growing tummy ,
like I used to see in movies.

   My son was born in the US, with both my parents and his parents fussing
over.  He eased into the world after only thirty minutes after my labour
started.  When the nurse laid him in my arms he looked up at me, smiled and
reached up to touch my cheek with his tiny hand.  And my world changed
again.

   Ramesh had planned on many more children, but during my son's delivery,
the doctor found benign cysts on my uterine walls and recommended a partial
hysterectomy.  The baby factory had been shut down early, throwing a wrench
into his plans for a large family.  And he and his family from that day
always blamed me for that, if not in words but in actions and behavior.

   We named him Karthik, and he made my life meaningful.

   Over the following years, life meandered on as it usually does, and, for
the most part, it meandered on well.  I watched in amazement as he raced
through childhood into adolescence and then puberty seemingly overnight. 
One minute Karthik was playing with Tonka trucks in the backyard and the
next it seemed we were helping him pick out high school clothes.

   Karthik, on the other hand, was perfect in almost every aspect.  He had
my family's features, a very intelligent and handsome face, with
aristocratic features, and deep brown eyes just like mine.  His hair was
thick and wavy, and not spiky like his fathers.  Karthik was a masculine
me. He was sleek and feline and breathtaking, but more importantly, he was
consistently sunny and happy.

   Karthik was exceptionally bright.  As with Indian kids in the US, he
consistently outperformed in school, and was a viz., in mathematics and
science subjects.  He won innumerable awards and it was my greatest joy to
help him prepare (even though he did not need much help, but loved to have
me with him when he used to for the various competitions)

   Karthik was dynamic and active, and took a good interest in sports,
specially tennis.  He was good enough play at the college level eventually.
I was so proud to sit in the stands and cheer him, and my heart will brim
with pride when I saw him clad in his shorts and sneakers playing with
passion and aggression.

   Karthik, much to Ramesh's displeasure never got into the whole
spirituality and daily puja stuff.  He was filled with uncertainties about
his spirituality and unsure about everything related to religion in
general. He believed, but there was nothing chiseled in stone about his
beliefs.  He was a proud Indian, but he questioned many of the old
fashioned beliefs and practices.  He was never tempted to become a
non-vegetarian, but he never criticized anyone for eating meat.

   Karthik, on the other hand, was perfection personified.  As much as I
tried to avoid it, I was drawn to him much more than I was to anyone else
in my entire life, and we developed a special closeness that was obvious to
everyone.

   Karthik was gregarious and outgoing and people were attracted to him by
a natural magnetism.  I noticed that, even as a little boy, people, women
and girls especially, couldn't keep from touching him.  He tolerated such
invasions of his personal space with good humor while never actually
inviting them.

   Our son was funny and quick-witted and charming.  He possessed a genuine
kindness and compassion that made me swell with pride.  Karthik brightened
up my life in so many ways it was impossible for me not to love him.  He
could make me laugh at the drop of a hat and it warmed my heart to see him
smile.

   Karthik had been blessed with the best physical characteristics, and
while he was cute as a kid, by the time he reached 13 years, he was truly
gorgeous to look at.  Lithe and graceful, he was very easy on the eye in
all respects.  When Karthik was eight, and I were approached by an agent
for a modeling firm and inquired whether we would consider letting Karthik
model children's clothing for their agency.  Although we were firm in our
refusal - it demonstrated that my admiration for Karthik was not just a
mother's pride.  By the time he was 10 years old I could see glimpses of
the man Karthik would become and I couldn't help but adore him.  By the
time he entered high school, Karthik was already breaking hearts.  A strict
diet and a rigorous exercise regimen fuelled by competitive fires sculpted
a lean, healthy, masculine physique that kept his female classmates ever
hopeful and his male classmates slightly jealous.  He was absolutely the
most beautiful person I had ever seen in my life.

   Karthik enjoyed art and loved classical music -- he frequently
accompanied me to the opera or museums.  I never pushed him, but he
expressed interest and started learning the violin.  He wasn't effeminate
by any stretch of the imagination.  He was just more...refined than his
peers.  His bookshelf held works by Walt Whitman, Thomas Hardy, Mark Twain,
Hawthorne, RK Narayan, among others, while his friends were buying up
Marvel and DC Comics.  Karthik was able to maintain a perfect 4.0
throughout his academic career with little to no effort.  Life was good, if
just a little sedate, until the summer of 2010.  That summer, was pivotal
for me.  That was the summer I found erotica.....  Reply With Quote

   #222 Old 12th December 2012 Adithyakumar Adithyakumar is offline
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0.34 Chapter 2

   My life in the mid and late 2000's was just about perfect.  We lived
comfortably in a mid-sized house, with a small yard surrounded by the
obligatory white picket fence.  Early on, Ramesh put his foot down and
wouldn't hear of me working, so I became a very good homemaker and tried to
be a good mother to Karthik.

   I had nearly everything I needed or wanted and thanked God for my good
fortune for giving me Karthik, at every opportunity.

   Only one thing was missing.  Love, Romance.........................Sex.

   Even if Ramesh was less than ordinary in his <5 minute manly duties, I
found that I liked sex, even with him.  It was only hours after our wedding
night that I finally identified the feelings that had haunted me throughout
high school and college.  As soon as my virginity was lost in our marital
bed I definitively knew that the alien sensation I had suppressed for so
long was lust.  Initially I felt shame and disgust with myself.  I tried to
pray and turn my mind away from sex, but it was hopeless.  I found that I
really liked it.  I really wanted more.

   Ramesh didn't have the same problem.  He was old school and sexual
intercourse was for procreation.  Period.  Beyond creating offspring,
Ramesh had no interest in the intimate side of a relationship.  He was a
decent man -- although he was quite neglectful -- but sexual intercourse,
as far as he was concerned, was for one purpose only.

   When the baby factory closed its doors for good, there was no real point
in engaging in the act, according to my husband.  He wasn't able to do
anything about biological urges, though, and so, about every other month or
so he coupled with me for release.

   There was little passion in our 'lovemaking.' The missionary position
was the standard and Ramesh wouldn't hear of anything else.  Like he did on
our first night, even today Ramesh would climb on top of me in the dark,
pump his hips a few times and empty himself into me.  He'd immediately
apologize for his weakness and roll off of me.

   I honestly believe that Ramesh didn't know our sex life did nothing for
me.  His sexual education had been roughly the same as mine -- essentially
non-existent.  Each time I tried to bring up the subject I was kindly
turned aside and when I tried to inject fire into our bed at night I was
informed that it was inappropriate and that it was hard enough to fight
temptation without going out and inviting it into our home.  Semi-risqué
lingerie that I purchased specifically for the purpose of seduction had
almost caused me to be tossed out of the house.  It was the catalyst for
the first real fight between Ramesh and me.

   I refused to throw away the lingerie per Ramesh's order; without his
knowledge it was relegated to a box on the shelf in my closet.  Because of
what thought I was, a good model Indian wife, and of course Karthik, I took
what he infrequently gave and lived a life of sexual frustration.  Almost
all other facets of my life were wonderful, so I was able to deal with the
one area that wasn't.  I had got a laptop for myself insisting that I
wanted something other than Mac that Ramesh had in his study.  He agreed,
and I got my Inspiron.

   First few months was all about getting hyper active on Facebook, and
spending time chatting with old friends whenever I had time.  Then one day,
after more than 60 days of 0 sex, (Ramesh was in the middle of a major
project), I ventured to search for some excitement online.

   I was in for the shock of my life as I discovered so much.  I was
careful, but I was also insatiable, spending time watching pictures, and
the slowly picking up courage to watch some porn, but what I liked most was
erotica.  When Karthik was in school, and when I had the house to myself, I
feasted on erotica,....  It was an addiction....  And I was hooked.

   And then one day, I accidently came across incest stories.  I tried to
move away, but was drawn like moth to a flame.  And despite my best
efforts, I felt myself reading, and getting excited.  I could feel my
entire body flush and my hands trembling The story was adult-themed and
graphic, describing sex scenes between a wife and her young son.  It was
explicit in every detail.  The author painted lurid visual pictures with
words and language.  I watched in my mind as the characters engaged in
almost every conceivable sex act a man and woman could engage in.  It was
nasty and dirty and repellant and I couldn't stop reading.  I had never
encountered anything like it.  I wasn't even aware that such things were
permitted to be published.  I wasn't completely naïve -- I was aware of
pornography -- I just never knew about that sort of erotica.

   The story described some of the things I had silently begged Ramesh to
do with me, along with a great number of activities I had never even
dreamed of.  I was on fire.  I was trembling uncontrollably and I was
shocked to discover the front of my cotton panties were wet and my nipples
were erect.  I felt ashamed at my reaction and twice walked away to the
kitchen to have water.  But I got back to my laptop again.

   That night, as Ramesh slept the sleep of the innocent, I snuck out to
our guest room, closed to door, fired up my laptop, and found more stories.
I was so excited I could hardly stand it and as I voraciously consumed the
pages, I rubbed myself through my nightgown.  I was ashamed that I was
reading, I was ashamed that I loved these stories, I was ashamed that I
masturbating.  I was 38 years old and discovering who I was.  I experienced
my very first orgasm that night.  It was so powerfully intense I was
frightened.  I was curled up on the bed and bit my lip to keep from crying
out as the thunder crashed through me.

   I had never experienced anything so pleasurable.  It felt like every
nerve in my body released at once.  I shuddered and shook and whimpered as
my orgasm rolled on and on.  The aftershocks still lingered when, weeping
uncontrollably, I hit my knees and prayed for absolution.  I felt dirty and
unworthy of forgiveness.  I had brought filth into my home and allowed
myself to wallow in my base instincts like an animal.  The only sure answer
was not to read these stories again.  The next week was a nightmare.  I
couldn't get what I had read out of my head.  I couldn't stop thinking
about sex.  I felt ashamed and alone.  I couldn't talk to Ramesh about what
I was going through and I was in a near constant state of arousal.  I kept
myself busy by reading, and cooking and meeting my small group of friends.
I prayed.  Nothing seemed to work.  I was becoming obsessed.

   One morning, a week or so after finding the book, after Ramesh had
departed for his office and Karthik was on his way to school, I masturbated
again while showering.  In my mind, Ramesh was doing to me the things he'd
never do in our bed.  He had me bent over and was thrusting himself into me
from behind.  He was pinching my nipples and saying the nastiest of things
to me.  I was so hot I couldn't prevent myself from sliding my hand between
my legs and fingering my swollen petals.  As Ramesh's penis ripped and tore
at me and our bodies sang together, my thumb found my clitoris and I
climaxed hard.  I had to hold onto the bar on the wall to keep from going
to my knees.  I felt like I had exploded -- like I had burst into a million
melting shards.  Lights burst in my head and the shower stall echoed with
my cries of pleasure.  My orgasm wracked my mind and body and I rejoiced in
it.  I was weak and winded when I stepped from the shower and wiped
condensation from the mirror.  I expected to see guilt or shame staring
back at me.  I didn't.  What I saw was a woman who had just experienced
enormous joy.

   Though my color was high, my eyes and my conscience were clear.  Thus
began my sexual exploration.  I began to look forward to my daily shower.

   With time and the sheer deliciousness of orgasm, I was able to overcome
any personal objections I had towards auto-erotic stimulation.  I made sure
that I only touched myself in the shower and when nobody else was home and
I eagerly embraced the discovery of my long-dormant sexuality.

   In short order I no longer felt ashamed.  I rationalized that the
passion was a part of who I was.  Where it came from was a mystery, but the
mystery was secondary to the pure joy of orgasm.  I grew to love my fantasy
life.  I discovered that I had a very active and very vivid imagination.  I
was no longer frustrated and, as a result, I was able to more easily accept
the lack of a real sex life.  On the outside, especially to my family over
Skype and occasional visits I still played the Good Girl.  On the outside I
still volunteered at the ISKON programs and our India diaspora's events On
the inside, however, I was becoming something else altogether, especially
when, after a few months, I began to bring men other than my husband into
my feverish fantasies.

   In the infancy of my sexual awakening, it was always Ramesh who did
things to me as I bathed.  In the billowing steam of the shower he did
everything I wanted and needed and couldn't convince him to do in our bed.
A few months after my discovery, however, I began incorporating men other
than Ramesh into my fantasies.

   These men, much more than Ramesh, who took care of my needs were mostly
actors, be it Akshay Kumar, or Aamir Khan or Ajith, or Surya.  I also
fantasized about Tom Cruise, and other holly wood hunks.

   Then one day I was surfing porn and chanced on a link that led me a
"MILF" website and videos.  And the images and videos of young men being
seduced by older woman just swept me away.  I was so lost.

   The people who I fantasized about changed.  They became younger.  First
it was the cute teenaged boy of my friend Kamala.  Then it was some of
Karthik's friends.  In my real sex life, everything that Ramesh and I had
ever done together was done in the darkness of our bedroom.  In twenty
years together, I rarely had opportunity to see, let alone touch with my
hand, Ramesh's penis.  It was a shadowy extension of him that only put in
an appearance in the dark.  Ramesh and I never used anything but the
missionary position.

   In my heated flights of fancy, things were different.  Very different. I
did things to my young lovers which I could not even dream mentioning to
Ramesh.  I sucked on their erections and hungrily swallowed hot semen.  I
took thierrigid cocks from behind, or rode my young lovers like horses, or
writhed on my back as they plunged their tongues deep into my vagina.

   In one of my favorite fantasies, one of the cutest friends who played
with Karthik, a Punjabi lad called Amar is asking me how to please a woman,
and I am being his sexual teacher taking his virginity.  First masturbating
him, then making him undress me, lick me, and then me going down on him and
finally me riding him....

   I was nasty and filthy and I reveled in my lecherousness.  I absolutely
loved the depravity inside of me that had taken me so long to uncover.  I
loved the feeling of being sexy, even if nobody would ever see me in that
state.  I loved that I could imagine anything and my body would respond. 
After the first 3 months, I felt no guilt.  The sexual side of me was as
real as my spirituality or my intellect.  It was a part of who I was and it
made me feel good and whole.  Reading the erotica provided new fodder for
my imagination and, in absorbing them I gained a whole new vocabulary that
I'd never be able to use.

   I rationalized that I wasn't cheating.  My daydreams were just my way of
heating myself up while I took care of things.  Ramesh still figured in
some little way in my fantasy world, but he was losing out slowly and
irreversibly.  I was fairly certain I loved him, but I couldn't ignore
myself, either.

   **************************** Reply With Quote

   #223 Old 12th December 2012 Adithyakumar Adithyakumar is offline
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0.34 Life was good.  I had almost everything I wanted.  A husband I loved
who treated me mostly decently, a great son, and a healthy, if secret, sex
life.

   Our home was filled with happiness and laughter.  Ramesh was a kind,
though neglectful husband but he was a decent father, and Karthik, with his
wit and sharp sense of humor, could make me laugh at the drop of a hat.  As
much as I loved Ramesh, Karthik was the apple of my eye and it was obvious
to everybody who knew us.

   Karthik was 18 in the spring of 2003 and already getting ready to attend
college in the fall when I discovered he had taken more from me than his
hair and eyes.  I had just finished a load of towels and, looking forward
to showering, I wasn't paying attention when I opened the bathroom door
without knocking.  Karthik's pants were around his knees and he was
masturbating.

   Fortunately, he had the good sense to immediately spin around so his
back was to me and I didn't see anything except a tight little butt.  I
apologized profusely and diplomatically retreated.  I laughed to myself
that he was a chip off the old block.

   I waited a couple of hours before tracking him down in his room.  I
knocked before entering.  Karthik was lying on his bed; a novel lay open
across his chest.  He immediately began to blush.

   "Kanna, we need to talk." I started, sitting near the foot of his bed.

   "I'm sorry, Amma." He blurted, "It won't happen again."

   The red had spread to his ears and neck.

   "There is no need for you to apologize, sweetheart." I smiled gently,
"What you were doing is perfectly...um...natural."

   Relief immediately replaced his embarrassment as he realized I wasn't
there to berate him.  "You're not upset?"

   I smiled again, "Uh-uh.  If anybody should apologize it should be me.  I
violated your privacy by not knocking."

   "Amma..." He stammered, confused.

   "Look, Kanna," I assured him, "It's probably best if you never let your
Father catch you in the act as he probably won't be so...understanding, but
believe me when I tell you there is nothing wrong with what you were
doing."

   "But I feel guilty when I...do that." Karthik confessed, his hands
fidgeting with the text book.

   "Don't." I ordered gently, "You're 18 years old.  With the hormones that
must be flowing through your body I'd be more surprised if you
weren't...doing that." I grinned and added, "If I were you though, in the
future, I'd remember to lock the door."

   We laughed together and I playfully squeezed his knee and got up to
leave.

   Karthik looked up at me with relief in his eyes and said, "Thanks,
Amma."

   I winked at him and turned to leave.  "You're welcome, Kanna." As I
stepped out into the hallway I glanced back at him and giggled, "Cute
butt."

   The sound of his laughter followed me down the stairs.

   If Karthik continued masturbating -- and I assumed he did -- he was
discreet about it.  I never again interrupted him in the act, sparing both
of our dignities.

   The incident changed how we interacted together, though.  We were still
mother and son, obviously, but we both accepted that he was no longer a
little boy with little boy needs.  The way I looked at him changed, also. I
no longer saw a slight, awkward adolescent.  Somehow, while I wasn't
looking, he had been transformed into a tall, masculine young man with
broad shoulders, narrow hips and muscular legs.  He had a swimmer's build
and was stunningly beautiful with a ready smile that lit up a room and eyes
that made a girl's insides melt when they fell on her.

   By his 18th birthday, in June of that year, Karthik was just a hair over
6'0" and tipped the scales at a lean 72 kgs.  He was lithe and graceful and
agile.  On more than one occasion I caught myself admiring his body, and
even (God forbid) the telltale bulge in his jeans before turning away,
blushing furiously.

   Despite the recent changes in our relationship, I can honestly say that
I never really looked at Karthik in a sexual manner.  Some of his friends
....  Yes....  but never Karthik.

   Karthik finished high school with honors without appearing to break a
sweat.  His father wanted him to try for engineering course in MIT, but
Karthik applied to Princeton and got into a course on physics.  He claimed
he didn't know if which direction he wanted to go in his career, and he
didn't want to waste time or money.  I knew that he loved astronomy and
taking physics as an under graduate degree was for pursuing that passion.

   Ramesh and I (to a lesser degree) both protested to no avail.  Karthik
asserted he could live at home, take classes at Princeton and take a part
time job until he decided where he'd take his life.  My silly joke that I
was 40 and still didn't know what I wanted to do with my life didn't sway
him at all.  He was adamant that he would stay home, if we had no
objections.  We objected to his choice, but not him living at home.

   Ramesh and I occasionally probed Karthik to see if we could discern
where his interests lay.  The only thing I was able to surmise is that he
didn't want to go into engineering, law or medicine.  Nor was he interested
in taking up his sporting pursuits.  And he didn't want to leave home.  It
was exasperating.  Karthik was sharp as a whip yet he didn't seem to want
to use his God-given intellect.  He also didn't seem to be interested in
girls.  Oh, he dated now and again, but seldom twice with the same girl.  I
more than once wondered if he was gay.  I couldn't figure out why he seemed
so disinterested in the opposite sex until I found his "", then everything
became crystal clear......  Karthik wasn't homosexual and it wasn't that
Karthik didn't want to leave home; he just didn't want to leave me.

   I found the by accident.  My laptop was giving me trouble and I went to
his room on that Friday afternoon as I had to send an urgent email to my
cousin in Mumbai.  His PC was password protected and I was thinking of
calling him, but then thought of trying something ...  I just typed in his
name, of course that did not work...  then just for the heck of it I my
name and viola it was the password.  Don't know if it was providence....

   The PC was not switched off and as I logged in and opened the browser I
saw recently opened webpages, and again something popped out - there was an
webpage icon saying my forbidden love.  I clicked on it, and it was by
someone called "K".  His profile read, a young boy in eternal love with the
one who brought him to this world.  My heart was already thumping.  I felt
a little guilt creep in around the edges of my consciousness and I actually
reached for the mouse to close this page.  Curiosity got the better of me
and I paused long enough to scroll down.  What is wrong with Incest?  Was
the first entry!!!.  My mind raced.  At that point I should have stopped. I
think I could have dealt with the fact that my son had some sort of weird
fascination with me, and I would have maybe been fine.  But instead, I
started reading a well written piece presenting a POV that there is nothing
wrong with consensual incest.

   I was unable to move away.  I scrolled down and saw a set of links one
below the other, with dates going back to 4 years!!!.

   I scrolled down the list which had names like "The beginning", "The
Incident", "The first kiss", "Marrying her", ...............and clicked on
a link that read "Quick Pleasures after a Weeks Wait"

   ********** It was around 7 PM on a Saturday evening.  The erection I got
as I thought of what I was missing this whole week ached terribly and I was
half-tempted to take a few minutes to give it a few shakes to relieve the
pressure.  Instead I gritted my teeth and quickly got dressed.  My wood
very slowly and very reluctantly subsided.  I heard Appa calling for
everyone to hurry up or we were going to be late for reception (of his
bosses sons marriage!) His voice sounded better.  It was bloody well about
time he got over his blasted cold.  I was nowhere near ready to go fifteen
minutes later when Appa tried again to get everyone in gear.  Then I heard
Amma call from her room.  "Ramesh, I'm running a little late, too.  I have
to change dresses.  Why don't you go and pick-up Tim (his colleague who we
had to give a ride as his car had broken down yesterday) We'll ready and
waiting outside by the time you come this way, I promise." The sweet bell
tones of her voice made my insides melt and my penis surge.  I heard the
front door open and close and raced to Amma's open doorway.  She was
standing in front of her closet wearing only a pair of light pink lace
panties and matching bra.  "What do you think, darling?" She smiled at me,
holding up a pink saree.  "Oh God..." I breathed, "I think you are the most
beautiful woman on the planet." "The Saree, you bad boy?" She laughed,
"What do you think about the saree?  And thank you very much." "Amma..." I
groaned and started to walk toward her.  Amma held up her hand, "Uh-uh.  We
can't.  Please, Kanna, we have to hurry." "But, Amma," I whined "It's been
more than a week..." Oh God, I sounded like a retard.  "Don't you think I
know that?" Amma answered, "I've been going crazy, too.  But until we can
find some alone time, we can't be together.  You promised me, Kanna." I
paused reading long enough to breathe deeply.  My entire body was
quivering. I felt sick to my stomach. .............  I turned back to the
PC and continued reading.  "OH Amma," I moaned, "But you have no idea, how
much I miss you" "Darling," She smiled nervously, "Your father's cold is
gone now and I promise you we'll get to be together tomorrow or day after,
in the morning as soon as he leaves for work." "I have to tell you, Amma,"
I tried to smile, "I'm going to explode the moment you touch me.  I'm ready
to burst." "I told you to make care of things yourself while your father
was sick." She seemed genuinely surprised.  There it was in black and
white, in neat block print.  My only son entertained fantasies of me and
him.  The pages of his confession shook in my trembling hands.  I felt as
though I was going to vomit.  But I couldn't stop reading.  I grinned, "And
I told you that I was never going to masturbate again.  It just doesn't do
anything for me anymore." Her laughter filled the room.  "I have the same
problem Karthik.  I miss making love to you so much, Kanna" My cock was
straining the seams of my pants.  I went near her and kneeled down, and
with trembling hands embraced her, burying my face in her lush belly. 
"Amma..." "I love you so much, am so sorry to bother you....  So sorry" She
held my face and turned it up to look at me and the question must have died
on her lips when she saw the hunger on my face.  She moaned and dropped
down as she wrapped her arms around my neck and our open mouths came
together.  Her warm, sweet tongue thrust between my lips and I felt tingles
race up and down my spine as we kissed.  We were frantic.  A week apart had
built our hunger for each other into an unstoppable force.  As we chewed
and sucked at each other's lips and tongues, I was squeezing her ass.  I
could feel her hand gripping my erection through my slacks.  Suddenly Amma
pulled her mouth from mine and pushed on my chest.  "Karthik...we can't..."
"Amma..." I pleaded.  "This is so dangerous, darling." She panted,
breathing heavily.  A soft moan escaped from between my clenched lips as I
read the words in front of my eyes.  The walls of the rooms seemed to close
in on me and I was aware of beads of perspiration trickling down my back.
My heart was pounding.  I could hear the screaming in my head that begged
me to stop.  I disobeyed the voice.  "Amma, look around you, we haven't
been this alone in days.  Appa will take atleast 20 minutes" I begged.  I
was aware I sounded pathetic.  My desperation echoed in my words. 
Miraculously, Amma rescued me.  There was a look of love and understanding
on her face, and a wry and sexy smile "Get on the bed darling." She
whispered heavily, "Quickly." I removed my clothes and go onto the bed.  I
had barely settled onto the leather seat when Amma climbed through to join
me, having peeled off her panties.  She straddled my legs and began
fumbling with my belt.  "Oh my Kanna," She wheezed as she ground her ass on
my chest, and I reached back to unclasp her bra.  Amma kissed me hard, her
tongue thrusting deep into my mouth as I freed my aching cock throbbed
against her belly "Do you want me so bad, Kanna." She asked as she ripped
her mouth from mine.  "YES" I groaned.  "Karthik..." I sobbed quietly.  I
could feel the room pitching and swaying.  And I could feel a tell tale
dampness in my panties.  "Oh my..." She moaned as she took my rigid cock in
her left hand and saw the pre-come oozing from my hard-on.  "I'm so sorry,
Karthik.  I promise you'll never have to wait so long for me ever again."
Amma and I had been lovers for over six months, but every single time I
slid into her, my reaction was the same.  "AHHGGGGGG HHHH !" I screamed as
her velvet walls enveloped my rock-hard penis.  She was so incredibly wet
and so hot I could barely stand it.  She cried out when she settled onto
me, my cock buried completely inside her pussy.  For a long moment we
didn't move.  Then she was frantically riding up and down my erection, her
hands pressed against my chest.  It didn't take long for either of us.  At
that moment I didn't care about her needs.  It had been over a week since
I'd ejaculated and I couldn't hold on.  As my semen boiled up out of my
balls, I wrapped my arms around her waist and clamped my mouth down on her
left tit and tried to chew her nipple through her dress.  I could barely
read the words on the pages my hands were shaking so badly.  "OH KANNA" She
screamed as my molten cum poured into her, triggering her own orgasm.  I
could feel her vaginal muscles convulsing on me as my seed poured into her
belly.  She quivered and shook and cried with release.  "OOOOOHHHHH AMMMA
aaaaaaa MMMMMMM..." I yelled, unable to contain myself as I jerked and
shuddered inside her.  My climax felt like all the good things in the world
were concentrated in my convulsing dick.  Pure energy seemed to flow out of
me.  I writhed uncontrollably beneath her as she whimpered and cried with
the joy of her own release.  ******** Reply With Quote

   #224 Old 12th December 2012 Adithyakumar Adithyakumar is offline
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0.34 I sank onto the edge of Karthik's bed.  My mind was a whirl and my
body was in a state of confused arousal.

   I scrolled from page to page at random and began to get a true picture
of his obsession.  The web pages were filled with many such stories. 
Karthik's prose was articulate and creative and extremely explicit.  Short
stories and essays and poetry proclaimed his lust for me and cried out with
passion and desire.

   I had read many novels with adult themes and none affected me as deeply
as Karthik's blog.  He and I were on every page in unbelievably provocative
and steamy situations, and depicted almost every conceivable sexual act a
man and woman could engage in.  One story illustrated him making love to me
in his room, while his father was in the living room watching TV.  Another
had me sneaking into his room late at night and sucking him off while
Ramesh slept nearby.

   I scanned a few more pages and read of making love to my son in
extremely erotic ways and locales.  Within the pages of his opus we were
going on vacations to snow clad Manali and making love while it snowed
outside, we were travelling abroad as a couple sightseeing by the daying
and making love throughout the night.  I was entranced with one story in
which Karthik and

   I were locked in the sixty-nine; his mouth ravaging my vagina while I
deep throated his penis.  Another that caught my eye had Karthik stealthily
sneaking into my bathroom and joining me in the shower while Ramesh worked
on his laptop across the hall.  I rifled through fantasy after fantasy,
page after page, and soon realized that Karthik's passion was identical to
my own.  His father was as dull as dishwater in bed.  Conversely, Karthik
was passionate and creative and energetic.

   Like me.

   My blood was racing hot.  My panties were soaked and my nipples were so
hard they ached.  My entire body shook uncontrollably.

   Flipping another page, I started and lost my breath at the fantasy that
came to life on the page in front of me.  My insides melted and I felt my
anus pucker at the idea of Karthik pushing his penis into it.  The story
had been penned less than a month before.  "Oooohhhh..." I moaned softly. I
quickly closed the blog and with shaking hands shut down his PC, after
closing all the pages I had opened.  My legs were not steady as I came out
of his room.  For several minutes I leaned against the wall in the hallway
and tried to collect myself.  On one hand I felt sick to my stomach; on the
other I was more excited than I'd ever been in my life.

   As I wrestled with conflicting emotions I couldn't for the life of me
determine what, if anything, I was going to do.

   ************ As days go, the day I found the blog was the most
significant, confusing, and electric day of my life.  It was life changing
for me.  I couldn't think clearly and my body alternated between shivering
uncontrollably and humming warmly like a high tension wire.

   That morning, I rattled around the house in a fog.  I couldn't stop
thinking of what I had read and fought a powerful urge to return to
Karthik's room to read more.  Karthik's story haunted my thoughts.  How
long had he had those sorts of fantasies?  Had I somehow caused his
fascination with me?  It wasn't as though he'd ever seen me naked or even
in my under things..  Ramesh was a bit of a prude about sex and the human
body and I was careful not to upset him, so I never would have let Karthik
see me without my being fully dressed.

   I tried to meditate, and relax.  However, relaxing my mind was having
the opposite effect of what I'd hoped.  I was becoming more and more
aroused as I thought about things.  My son actually wanted to make love to
me!  Or, at the very least, he fantasized about it.  Karthik wanted to lie
with his own mother and from the story I read and the others I'd flipped
through, I had inkling he'd be so much better at it than his father.

   My loving and devilishly good looking son wanted to do the sorts of
things with me I'd always wanted Ramesh and me to do.  I laughed nervously
to think he wanted me to suck his penis!  An image of me kneeling beside
him on his bed and slowly taking his erection in my mouth floated across my
mind.

   "Oooohhhh, Karthik..." I whimpered as a small detonation inside me
caused my entire body to convulse violently.  I was in my room, sitting on
the floor trying to mediate but my heart was pounding, my blood boiling.  I
hurriedly unfastened my saree and petti coat, and plunged my right hand
into my panties.

   I shuddered when my forefinger and thumb found my clitoris and began
rubbing it vigorously.  It didn't take long.  A few well-placed tweaks with
my trembling digits were all it took.  My orgasm was as strong as any I'd
ever experienced.  I shuddered and shook as it rolled through me, exploding
in my head and appendages.  I clenched my legs on my hand and gritted my
teeth as pure pleasure flooded my senses.

   Finally it slowly faded into the ether, leaving me panting and
quivering. I fixed a light dinner for Ramesh and myself -- Karthik wasn't
home -- and afterwards declined Ramesh's invite to watch a movie.  I
wouldn't have been able to concentrate and I just wanted to think about the
new development in my life.

   After washing the dishes, I told Ramesh that I was exhausted and going
to bed.  He said he wanted to read a bit more and would be up shortly.

   I lay in my bed and thought of Karthik.  My body was on fire and I
slowly fingered myself through my cotton nightgown.

   I was shaking when Ramesh came in and got undressed in the dark and lay
down next to me.

   "Are you asleep, Divya?" He whispered.

   "No." I responded, trying desperately to keep my voice even.

   "Do you think...?" Ramesh started.

   I knew what he wanted and without discussion, pulled my nightie up over
my hips and reached under the covers to remove my panties.  Maybe Ramesh
could be the answer to my torment.  It had been almost three months since
Ramesh had last expressed an interest in sex.

   Ramesh rolled onto me and kissed me almost chastely.  His erection
hunted for my vagina and he grunted as he sank himself into my wetness.  If
Ramesh noticed that I was considerably more wet than usual, he didn't say
anything.

   "I love you, Divya." He moaned as he began thrusting his hips and
sliding himself in and out of me.

   "I love you, too." I responded.

   Despite my words, in my mind it was Karthik who was between my legs. 
And he wasn't just using his penis on me.  I could almost feel his lips on
mine, our mouths open, and our tongues coiling together.  I could almost
feel him sucking on my nipples and I heard him whispering over and over
that he loved me as we fucked.

   For the first time in our life together, my husband made me come.

   We quivered and shook and held each other as Ramesh's semen spilled out
of him and my orgasm rolled on and on.

   Ramesh didn't even notice.  As usual, he rolled off of me when he was
finished and sounded almost sorrowful when he said good night.  He was
asleep almost immediately.

   I still trembled in the afterglow of my orgasm.

   Sometime later, the front door announced Karthik's arrival.  I heard his
footsteps on the staircase and the sound of his bedroom door opening and
closing.

   I lay there listening to Ramesh snore and watched the shadows on the
ceiling and thought of my son across the hall from me.

   I was sorely disappointed that, even though I slipped from bed at
shortly after 6:30 the next morning, Karthik was already gone.

   I grinned foolishly at my dirty mind.  As if Karthik was likely to walk
into the kitchen as I was preparing breakfast, bend me over the table,
bunch my robe around my waist, rip off my panties and just take me on the
spot.

   Gaining control of myself, I tried hard to appear and sound normal
through breakfast until Ramesh finished his Dosa and coffee, tucked the
paper into his briefcase and left with a smile and an offhanded "See you
tonight, Divya."

   He didn't kiss me goodbye.

   I waited until I heard the garage door close and saw Ramesh's Chevy
Impala back down the driveway and merge into the morning traffic.

   Hurriedly, I raced to Karthik's bedroom door.  I only paused a second at
the thought I really was violating his privacy.  The thought occurred to me
that if he did catch me reading his blog, it could possibly result in what
he apparently wanted, so he really wouldn't mind too much.

   As I got lost in his stories, there were passages that conveyed a lot
more than just lust.

   As always, holding and kissing Amma was heaven for me; her soft warmth,
the feel of her hands touching my skin, her scent.  Everything about her
was perfect.....................

   As I read the words on the page, I smiled with pride that my baby
thought I was beautiful and slipped a hand into my panties and began
touching myself.  And I read.......................  Amma was easily the
most beautiful woman I'd ever seen in my life and every time she let me, I
couldn't believe I was lucky enough to make love to her. 
..................................

   My orgasm was incredible.  I fell back on Karthik's bed and curled up
into a semi-fetal position as pure energy poured through me.  "Ooooohhhhhh
ffff ammmaaaaaaaaaaaahhh.." I keened helplessly.  The tide of pleasure
rolled on and on.  It was delicious.  It was embracing and satisfying and
completely wonderful.

   Slowly it diminished until it was gone, leaving me winded and trembling.
I blushed at the thought I had just masturbated on my only son's bed.  I
wondered what he'd think of it.  I withdrew my damp fingers from my
panties, raised up to the edge of the bed and after cleaning my fingers on
the edge of his comforter near his pillow.  I grinned to myself, "Pleasant
dreams, sweetheart."

   I continued reading.  I closed Karthik's blog and hugged a pillow to my
chest for many minutes, my mind a whirl.  I was enthralled by the idea of
being with Karthik in more ways that just a mother ...............  but at
the same time, I was fairly certain I could never really do it.  The very
idea of having sex with my own son was terrifying, but also far and away
more arousing than anything I'd ever fantasized about.

   And I also knew, that my fantasy lovers had all been replaced.  I turned
out the light and left his room to go shower.  In the master bath, I stood
in front of the mirror and examined myself as I removed my robe and slipped
off my bra and panties.  I giggled as I entertained thoughts of folding my
soiled cotton briefs and putting them in Karthik's room!.

   Instead, I put them in the hamper along with the brassiere and turned on
the water and let it run.  The woman who stared at me from the mirror was
pretty much the same one who had greeted me every day for 40 years, but
there was something different about her.

   She still was attractive.  I wasn't about to say otherwise for the sake
of modesty.  She had long, wavy black hair, large brown eyes, small
straight nose, and full lips that were maybe just a touch wide.  My skin
was still firm and supple, with only a few laugh lines around my eyes.  My
cheekbones were high and well-defined.

   Enough people had opined that I resembled Hema Malini, the actress.  May
be just a little more fuller....  and of course younger..

   My body was also aging well.  I was not fat, with the extra fat being
largely restricted to my thighs, hips and bosom.  At 5'6" and around 55 kgs
I still held the hourglass shape I had when I was in college, though I was
not slim.

   My best features, in my humble opinion, besides my hair, were my
breasts. Still perky and proud, they hardly sagged at all.  They were big,
but complimented my lush form.  Roughly the size of medium-sized coconuts,
they were up thrust and proud.  My nipples were brown and were somewhat
thicker and longer than average.  The areoles that surrounded them were
larger than a 2 rupee coin and pale brown and quite rough.

   My stomach had a bit of extra flesh now, but was still shapely and
toned, with a deep navel.  My waist was slim and my hips were wide.  The
large vee of hair that covered my pubic mound was thick and lush, although
I tried hard to keep it trimmed, I did not bother much as my husband never
even bothered to look at me there, let alone..........  My legs were still
shapely and, turning to examine my plump butt, I poked it and grudgingly
admitted I looked fairly good for my age.

   I wasn't proud of my appearance, but I wasn't upset by it either.  It
just was what it was and I had nothing to do with it, other than being
blessed by good genes, I supposed, and I watched what I ate, and used the
treadmill at least 3 to 4 times a week

   I certainly wasn't perfect and there were things I was disappointed in:
the identical moles just above my navel, a large birthmark just below and
behind my left knee, etc.

   My examination of my physical appearance ended when the billowing steam
began fogging the mirror.

   My showers had become almost ritualistic.  If needed, I washed my hair,
and then scrubbed myself down vigorously with a loofa.  Afterwards, I'd
stand under the water and close my eyes and invite my fantasy to come to
me.

   In my feverish thoughts, I could feel Karthik's strong arms slip around
my waist as he pressed himself against me and held me tight.  His lips
caressed my shoulder and his rigid penis -- so much larger than Ramesh's --
was wedged snugly in the crack of my ass.

   I heard myself moan softly as I willed his hands to raise up to cradle
my tits and turned my face up to his as his open mouth closed on mine. 
Lightly, delicately we kissed, our tongues gently thrusting in and out of
teach others mouth.

   I could feel my blood scorching my veins as Karthik rotated my pebbly
little nipple with his right thumb and forefinger as his left hand slid
down the wet flesh of my abdomen and his fingers brushed through my coarse
pubic hair.

   Over and over we kissed, and when Karthik slipped a finger between my
labia, I almost chewed his tongue off.  As my lover played my body like an
artisan, I moved the shower head towards my clit as my fingers moved in
vagina, sliding it in and out.

   In my mind, Karthik slowly bent me over and repositioned himself before
sliding his erection deep into my pussy.  I almost came on the spot.  As we
made love, my lover whispered over and over that he loved me.  He
occasionally reached down to grip my swaying breasts to pull at my rock
hard little nipples.

   He pulled out despite my protestations, but before I could voice my
complaint, Karthik spun me around, reached down and gripped my ass cheeks
in his strong hands and physically lifted me in the air.  My legs locked
around his waists as Karthik leaned me back against the shower wall.  I
gripped the door rail with one hand and the top edge of the stall with my
other and whimpered as Karthik slowly lowered me onto his phallus.

   Slowly, methodically he began bucking his hips, making love to me with a
long, firm stroke.  His head dipped and he mauled my chest with his mouth,
chewing and sucking on my tits.

   Masterfully, Karthik stroked his majestic penis in and out of me until
with a mighty plunge he buried himself in me and threw his head back as he
pumped what seemed to be quarts of hot, searing come deep inside me.

   I came so hard I screamed and fell to my knees.  Pure electricity
coursed through my limbs and rockets detonated in my head as my orgasm
surged on and on.  I shuddered and shook on the floor of the shower stall
and squealed in sheer ecstasy.  I had never experienced anything so intense
to that point.

   Afterward, crawling from the stall on hands and knees, I slumped on the
small carpet and struggled to collect myself.  I didn't trust my legs and
tingles still radiated from my center at random intervals.

   Finally, after many minutes, I wobbled to my room and collapsed naked
onto my bed.  Reply With Quote

   #225 Old 12th December 2012 Adithyakumar Adithyakumar is offline
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   #229 Old 12th December 2012 Adithyakumar Adithyakumar is offline
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0.34 Chapter 3: The decision

   Sometime later, collected, I dressed and wandered downstairs.  I vaguely
recall the day had turned bright and warm, with only a few cumulous clouds
floating through.  All I could think of was Karthik and his blog and how
excited the thought of being with him made me.

   I decided then and there that I would try to seduce Karthik.  If he
really wanted me, I'd give him every opportunity to have me.  I felt it
would be relatively easy.  We had always been close and, knowing what he
thought and felt about me, I was sure he'd welcome an opportunity to be
closer.

   As he grew up, Karthik had always come to me with any issue he couldn't
solve on his own.  We were able to talk about anything and everything with
open honesty.  Even about subjects that were difficult or controversial --
girls, sex, abortion, racism, etc.  He chose me over his father because I
was non-judgmental and let him voice his opinion.  And I wasn't interested
in molding his ideas to mirror my own, unlike Ramesh.  I was the one
Karthik came to with scraped knees, or broken hearts.  I was the one who
kissed his boo-boos all better.  I was the one who encouraged him and
nurtured him through everything.  I was the one who helped with his
homework by critiquing his English papers and checking his mathematics.  I
guided him when he needed it and picked him up when he fell.  I let him
hold my hand when he needed to, and let his go when he was ready.

   Although I had no idea how I was going to seduce my son at that point, I
was confident I could find a way.

   Late that afternoon, I was puttering around the kitchen preparing the
evening meal and mulling how I could best let Karthik know I wanted him.  I
wasn't going to be able to come out and just say, "Kanna, I want you to
make lover to me." I considered letting him 'catch' me reading his blog.  I
thought about asking him to massage me...  about walking in on him in his
room.

   The few 'plans' I could come up with all had flaws of one sort or
another.  I could imagine Ramesh's if he caught Karthik and me in a
compromising position.  Whatever course I chose in pursuing Karthik I would
have to be extremely careful.  In the end, I wasn't able to find a suitable
plan that would work and tried to refocus my energy on maintaining an
appearance of normalcy.  Ramesh arrived home shortly after five, and a few
minutes later Karthik pulled his beat up Bike into the drive and I was the
model housewife.  Dinner was on the table and soft classical music drifted
on the air.  I was fairly sure that nothing gave away what was racing
through my mind.  The conversation was normal if boring to me.  I caught
myself frequently glancing in Karthik's direction when he wasn't looking.

   My son gave me a start when he turned to me and asked, "Are you okay,
Amma?" I smiled and nodded.  "I've just got something on my mind, Kanna."
After the dinner dishes were put up, Karthik challenged me to a game of
chess.  Ramesh was reading a book in his study.  We set up the board on the
coffee table in the living room.  Our games had been decidedly one-sided
since Karthik was about fourteen.  I won occasionally, but I'm sure it was
only because he let me.  The classical music continued playing on the
eight-track player.

   We played two games.  I yelled at him when it became apparent he was
letting me have game two.  He trounced me handily both games.

   Throughout the games, although I tried hard to concentrate on anything
but what I knew Karthik wanted to do with me, I couldn't help feeling
moisture between my legs and I'm fairly certain my nipples showed through
my bra and chudidhar top.  I was so aroused I could hardly contain myself.

   Karthik looked so good in his close fitting tee shirt and khaki shorts I
couldn't stop admiring him.  He was a bronze god -- strong and healthy and
perfect.

   I rose to my feet as Karthik was boxing up the pieces and, as I turned
towards the dining room, Karthik said, "Thanks for doing my laundry
yesterday, Amma.  You know you don't have to do it for me."

   I turned to respond but my words caught in my throat.  Karthik's
masculine presence seemed to somehow fill the room.  I stared at him for
long moments, taking in how physically perfect he really was and
appreciating the finest thing I had ever done.  His broad shoulders, narrow
hips, taut buttocks, and muscular legs created a perfect picture of youth
and power and sex appeal.

   "And, oh my, he sure is appealing!" I thought, flushing slightly at the
lurid thoughts that danced through my head.

   "Amma?" Karthik's voice cut through my reverie.

   "Huh?" I was jerked back to the present by the sound of his voice.

   "Are you okay?" He was looking at me oddly.

   "Of course, Kanna.  I guess I was just thinking about something." I
smiled.

   He slipped the chess game into the compartment in the oak entertainment
center and walked towards me.  My eyes darted, for a brief second to the
substantial bulge between his legs.  I forced myself to look away and hoped
he didn't notice me blushing fiercely.  I wondered if he could possibly
know what I was thinking.

   "You know Amma, I never really say 'Thank you' for all you do for me."
He said, smiling a soft funny sort of smile.

   "Kanna, you have thanked me, in so many little ways." I responded,
reaching out and placing my hand on his left arm.  "You thank me just by
being a wonderful son."

   "But the words shouldn't go unsaid." He declared, "I just want you to
know that I appreciate you.

   Thank you so much, Amma."

   "You're welcome," I replied, "I'm glad that I'm able to help, but if you
really want to repay me, my only price is a hug."

   He smiled and took me into his arms and for a moment made the rest of
the world go away.  He paid me back in full.  The intensity of my body's
reaction was astonishing.  I loved the sensation of his lean, solid body
against my softness.  I molded myself against him, wrapped my arms around
his waist and rested my face against his chest and just held him in a soft,
full-bodied embrace.

   It was sublime; the feeling of my heart beating time with his, the
warmth of his body against my own, and the not-so gentle innocence of the
moment.  I felt safe and terrified.  I felt controlled yet wild.  My blood
coursed hot in my veins with pure, unadulterated desire like I had never
known, yet caution nibbled at the edges of my mind.

   And I was acutely aware of Karthik's groin pressing into my lower
abdomen.

   I wondered if he could feel my heart pounding in my chest.

   "This feels really nice." He murmured softly,

   "Mmmm." I agreed.

   "I love you, Amma." He breathed.

   "I know, Kanna, but what don't you love?" I giggled.

   "Broccoli, Salman Kahn, Cricket, and sore losers."

   I laughed and held him tighter.  His warm, heady scent filled my head as
we clung together and gently swayed to the sounds of Mozart.

   "I really am grateful for you, Amma."

   I leaned back in the circle of his arms and looked up into his piercing
eyes.  "I know you are, sweetheart, but believe me when I tell you that I
don't mind at all.  You're my baby and it's my job to take care of you."

   "I appreciate you, Amma, and maybe it's time somebody took care of you."

   He kissed my cheek gently.  My blood boiled hotter.

   I looked up into his eyes again.  He didn't blink.  "Appa is a fool,
Amma."

   I drew back slightly.  "Whatever do you mean, Kanna?"

   He didn't flinch.  "Amma, he's been neglecting you for years.  You
deserve so much better."

   "Karthik..." I murmured softly.

   "I can tell you if I had a girl like you she'd never have to wonder how
I felt and I'd do everything in my power to make her world a better place
to live." A certain sort of sadness crept across his face.

   "Kanna," I whispered, glancing over his shoulder towards the stairs to
check for Ramesh, "I'm doing alright.  You father loves me in his own way."

   He snorted, "Whatever, Amma.  Even my friends know better.  Our
relatives know better.  Appa ignores you, unless he needs something.  Just
the other week Amar asked me what you see in Appa."

   I just looked up into his deep brown eyes.  "Oh yeah?"

   "Oh yeah, Amma." Karthik smirked cheekily, "He thinks you're hot."

   "Sure he does." I blushed but I couldn't help smiling.

   "Yep, others, too." Karthik dipped his head and kissed my forehead. 
"Why do think they're always here when they're home from school?"

   "Because I'm a good cook." I answered flippantly.

   "You're a good cook, but that is not all" Karthik grinned, "Jim, Nic,
Yang are all constantly talking about you and...Andy is completely
infatuated with you."

   I felt my entire body blushing.

   I just held him tightly, my body molded to his.  I could feel his heat
radiating through my dress and thought I felt him swelling against my
tummy. Almost on its own volition my right hand slipped beneath the hem of
his shirt and tenderly caressed his back.

   "What do you think?" I murmured against his chest.

   "Huh?"

   I leaned my head back and shyly repeated the question.  "What do you
think of me?"

   "Honestly?" Karthik stammered.

   I nodded my head and hoped he could see the love in my eyes.

   He didn't say anything for several moments and seemed to be wrestling
with himself.  Finally he stared directly into my eyes and whispered, "I
think you are the most beautiful woman on the planet."

   I thrilled with pride at his words but put on a show of modesty.  "Oh
please!" I snorted.  "I've always thought that, Amma." He insisted and
added, "You look just like Hema Malini, better, younger"

   "You're serious?" I asked, pretending to be shocked by the confession.

   Karthik nodded his head.  "You are absolutely breathtaking, Amma. 
You're classy and graceful and gorgeous.  Don't tell me you don't notice
how people look at you."

   "Well...thank you, Kanna.  You sure know how to flatter a lady." I
smiled.

   "Oh no, Amma.  Thank you." He grinned.

   I was conscious of my body responding to him in decidedly un-motherly
ways.  There was no longer any question whether he was becoming aroused and
I was exhilarated at the thought.

   "Next I suppose you're going to tell me that I am not fat and old, and
still look like Hema"

   He laughed and nodded.  "From what I can tell, she don't have anything
on you.  I love the way you look in your sarees, and even just in a house
dress"

   "Now I know you're making fun of me." I giggled, "I'm a middle aged
Housewife"

   He shifted himself, trying to make his arousal less noticeable, I
assumed.  "Since you brought up the subject, I think your age only makes
you even...  lovelier"

   He brought his face close to mine and brushed my lips with his.  I
involuntarily purred.

   "Mmmm." I sighed and chastely kissed him back.  "I think you are a
rogue, filling a lady's head with sweet lies and nonsense.  If I didn't
know better, I'd think you were trying to seduce me."

   "Is it working?" He laughed.

   "If I wasn't your mother..." I grinned.

   It felt wonderful and natural to embrace him.  We fit together easily
and comfortably; like a hand and glove or two neighboring pieces of a
jigsaw puzzle.  He was warm and wonderful and my head filled with his heady
scent.  I stroked his back with my fingertips and marveled at how smooth
his skin felt.

   Erotic images raced through my mind and I found myself fighting the urge
to stick my tongue down his throat.  I was reluctant to end our embrace but
I was also confident that if I didn't, I was likely to do something bad.  I
wanted Karthik more than anything on Earth, but I wasn't that bold.

   At that point.

   Ramesh chose that moment to yell down the stairs for me to bring him his
briefcase.

   I very slowly and very reluctantly extricated myself from Karthik's
embrace to do Ramesh's bidding.  By the time I had returned, Karthik's
Bikes was backing down the driveway.

   I wished I were still holding him.  ******* Reply With Quote

   #230 Old 12th December 2012 Adithyakumar Adithyakumar is offline
www.BollyGallery.com Join Date: 11th March 2007 Posts: 155 Rep Power: 17
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   Adithyakumar has many secret admirers UL: 9.17 gb DL: 27.21 gb Ratio:
0.34 Ch 4 - Baby Steps

   *********** The next morning found me again sitting on the edge of
Karthik's bed, reading his blog.  I was naked.  A very large part of me
wished Karthik would return home unexpectedly.

   I opened the blog to a random page and began reading.....  and playing
with myself.  This story was about sneaking to the bathroom to make
love....

   "We are so baaaad..." She choked, "You know we shouldn't b...be doing
this?"

   "Mmmm," I whispered as I slowly slid my engorged penis back and forth
over her slippery tummy, "We're not nearly as b...bad as I wish we were."
.......................................

   She groaned deeply at the insinuation and bit her lip to keep from
squealing like a little schoolgirl.  I was on the brink of orgasm and was
close to losing my mind with an almost painful lust.  I struggled to
maintain some semblance of control over the emotions that were running
amuck inside my head.

   "Here, Kanna," She choked, "Let me." She unfastened my hand from my hard
member and, moaning softly, began stroking her flesh with it while
simultaneously squeezing and massaging it.

   "Oh, Amma," I cried, "That feels really nice."

   I just moaned in agreement.

   "Amma?" I whimpered.

   "Mmmm." She replied foggily.  Her hands were firmly clasped around my
erection, jerking and pulling at me, rubbing me vigorously against her wet
flesh.

   "Turn around."

   "Karthik..." She hissed.

   "Turn around.  P...Please." I pleaded.  "I want to d...do what we did in
the kitchen last night."

   "Ohhhhh Kanna..." She breathed.

   On wobbly legs she spun around and waited for me.  She shuddered when I
spread my legs to lower my hips and pressed myself against her.  Her skin
was warm on my cock as I wedged myself firmly into the crack of her ass.

   "Oh, God..." I choked.

   My arms slid around her waist and just held her.  I slowly caressed her
stomach and I lightly kissed her shoulder.  I was out of control.  She
tilted her head to the side and moaned hard as I began raining open mouthed
kisses over her neck and ear.  She reached up with her right arm to circle
my neck and turned her face to mine and captured my mouth with hers.  Our
tongues danced and writhed together as we kissed deeply and passionately.

   As we kissed, I subtly began grinding my cock against her ass.  Amma
moaned into my mouth and pushed her butt back against me.  I almost bit
down on her tongue when she found my left hand and raised it up to her tit.

   She pulled her mouth from mine and, gasping for breath, braced herself
against the fiberglass wall with her arms.  She cried out and pushed her
ass back against me as I began roughly thrusting myself against her.

   Every fiber of my being was on fire.  Every nerve was singing.  I had
never felt such animal cravings before.

   "M...Amma..." I panted with exertion and desire, "This f...feels so
good...so g...good..."

   She reached down and behind me to grab my leg and began sliding her butt
up and down my aching shaft.  I could feel myself drawing close to the
precipice.

   Karthik's words were so exciting.  I could almost feel his warm flesh on
mine.  My fingers were plunging in and out of my drooling canal faster and
deeper

   She glanced over her shoulder at me and whispered huskily, "What you're
d...doing with your penis makes Mommy feel so g...good, baby."

   "I love rubbing it against your ass, Amma!" I cried out loudly as I
stroked myself up and down the valley created by her butt cheeks.

   She moaned agreement, "I love you rubbing it against my ass, Kanna. 
Don't stop.  Please don't stop..."

   "I'm c...coming, Mommmm!" I yelled loudly as my cock jerked forcefully
against her ass and I wrapped my arms around Amma's midsection and squeezed
her tight.

   The sensation of my come erupting from my jerking cock was incredible. I
shuddered and jerked over and over as my load blasted out of my penis. 
"Ooooohhhhhhhhh..." Amma cried as my warm semen boiled out of me and coated
the small of her back.

   The sensation of my ejaculate on her flesh trigged her own orgasm and as
I held her she seemed to collapse inwardly as she reveled in her release.

   Slowly, gradually we floated back to reality.  I still held her tight.
We quivered and trembled together as our release slowly faded.

   "Oh wow..." I murmured against her ear.  "That was incredible, Amma."

   "It sure was, Darling." She smiled happily, "Your big ol' thing made
Mommy feel really, really nice."

   We rinsed off and I quickly dried myself off.  I kissed her thoroughly
before I slipped from the bathroom and made my way carefully back to my
room.  Appa apparently was still hard at work.

   I turned back to his fantasy.

   I came hard a minute or so after finishing Karthik's story.  I fell back
on his bed and let my orgasm carry me to him.  It was delicious and
powerful and I could hear myself squealing.

   It was light and sound and fury and if Karthik had entered in the room
at that moment I would have attacked him.

   After my orgasm faded into the ether, I started to close the PC, but
stopped.  I wanted to see what Karthik had written of late.

   I scrolled to the last entry ................

   If I didn't know better, I'd swear that something has happened to Amma.
Maybe she has finally had enough of being neglected.  The way she acted
tonight it was as though she was a completely different person.

   When I held her in my arms, she seemed to almost be giving herself to
me. I'm probably mad.  Amma is so amazingly beautiful it makes my heart
hurt to look at her.  I melt inside when she smiles at me and I hate to see
her unhappy.  I wish I had the balls to tell her that I'm in love with her.
She is the reason I can't be with any other woman.

   I did tell her tonight she is the most beautiful woman in the world, but
I think she thinks I was just playing with her.  If she only knew.  If Amma
felt my dick getting hard when I was holding her, she didn't say anything.

   I'm going to have to move out.  I can hardly stand to be near her
without being able to love her the way she deserves to be loved.  I'll
start looking for an PG tomorrow.  I can't do this anymore.

   ********* I had to find a way to stop him.

   I was nervous wreck as the minutes ticked by so excruciatingly slowly I
was going insane.  I swear the hands on the clock in the kitchen were
frozen.  I actually checked to make sure the battery was still good.

   I wasn't at all sure what I was going to do, but I couldn't stand by and
let him leave only days after finding out how he felt about me.  While I
knew without doubt that it was wrong for a mother to be with her son, he
offered me what I had so long craved, and I was going to have him, one way
or another, right or wrong.

   I couldn't focus on anything.  There were butterflies in my stomach.  I
flitted from one chore to the next without completing any.  I showered and
masturbated and my orgasm was wonderful, but it didn't help settle my mind.

   Ramesh wouldn't be home until shortly after eight as he had a work
spike. I was going to use his absence to get to Karthik. ......Somehow.

   I made rice and bhindi sambhar, Karthik's favorite.  I dimmed the lights
slightly.  I dolled myself up as perfectly as I could manage and let my
loose, rather than in customary bun, in a style Karthik occasionally
mentioned looked good on me.  I dabbed perfume on my neck and behind my
ears and in my cleavage.  My chose a dark red chiffon saree, which was
something Ramesh never allowed me to wear as it was quite transparent.  I
wore it with a dark red blouse and matching skirt.  I tied the saree below
my navel.

   If Karthik was clueless, he should still be able to pick up my hints.  I
hoped.

   My wait for him that evening was agonizing.  I was beginning to think my
plans were wasted.  And then I heard his Bike pull up just before 5:30.

   I met him at the door with a big smile and a hug.

   "Hi, Amma," He hugged me enthusiastically and kissed my cheek, "What's
the occasion?"

   "No occasion," I led him into the dining room by his hand.  "I just
wanted to spend this evening with you.  We haven't really been able to
spend much time alone together lately and I wanted to catch up."

   I sounded a bit inane as we had spent the night before playing chess and
talking about nothing and everything but I couldn't help notice his eyes
light up.

   Karthik nodded, "I've been kind of missing you, too, Amma.  By the way,
you look really nice."

   I smiled happily up at him and gestured for him to have a seat at the
table.  "Thank you, Kanna.  I'll get your plate."

   I was positively giddy as I raced to the kitchen and prepared his plate;
rice, sambhar, beans, and papad, and mango pickle I knew he loved all of
these (Ramesh preferred Italian and continental, while me and Karthik
preferred good old South Indian fare).  I grabbed a small side salad and
raced back to the table.

   His eyes widened when he saw his plate.  "It's not my birthday, is it?"
I laughed and rubbed his shoulder before taking my seat.  "I just wanted to
let you know I love you, Kanna."

   Karthik polished off his food like a vacuum cleaner.  We talked about
college and Amar's plans to go to Europe in the fall.  We talked easily and
comfortably.  I couldn't take my eyes off him.  When his plate was cleaned,
he pushed back from the table, patted his stomach and thanked me profusely.

   "I was famished, Amma," He smiled, "Thanks so much."

   "You're welcome, Kanna." I replied as I cleared his dishes and retreated
to deposit them in the sink.

   When I got back, I paused in the kitchen door way to admire him.  He was
standing by the stereo looking so good my heart began pounding in my chest.
He was lean and solid and beautiful.  In profile, his features were
perfect. They were almost feline.  He looked like a Grecian god standing
there.  Like a Michelangelo's 'David' only wearing faded denim and a button
down shirt.

   'A Little Night Music' began playing and I slowly walked up to Karthik.
I extended my hand demurely and smiled, "May I have this dance, kind sir?"

   He took my hand, smiled broadly and slipped his free arm around my
waist. "It would be my distinct pleasure, ma'am."

   We gently swayed to the music, our eyes never wavering from each others.
Karthik tightened his arm around me and pulled me closer.  I was sure he
had to be able to feel my body trembling.

   "Can I ask you something?" I whispered softly.

   He nodded.  "Anything, Amma."

   "Why don't you have a steady girlfriend?" I asked bluntly.  I hoped my
love shone from my eyes.

   He started and tried to pull back.  "Uh...um..." He stammered.

   "I mean, you're such a good looking man and all muscular and physically
fit, Kanna," I smiled up at him, "I would think the girls would be flinging
themselves at you."

   Karthik relaxed a little.  "I don't know, Amma.  It is just so flipping
hard talking to pretty girls.  I get so nervous and flustered when I'm
around them...tongue-tied."

   "But, Kanna," I hugged him closer, "You told me last night you thought I
was beautiful and you aren't nervous around me."

   He grunted.  "That's different, Amma.  You're my Amma.  You never make
me feel inadequate or nervous.  In fact you make me feel quite the
opposite."

   "There is nothing inadequate about you, darling." I lifted my face and
kissed his chin.  "Let me ask you this...and you don't have to answer if
you don't want to.  You're not a virgin, are you?"

   Karthik looked uncomfortable.  He blushed bright red and nodded, "Yeah,
I am.  I haven't even kissed a girl yet.  Well, except for Carol, but I
think I hurt her teeth when I tried."

   I was genuinely shocked.  "You're almost 20 and you haven't even kissed
a..."

   He looked miserable.  We were still wrapped in each other's arms and
still swayed to music neither of us could hear.  My thoughts were racing as
fast as my heart.  I recognized, at that very moment, how I might be able
to help him and maybe get to him at the same time.

   "Kanna," I smiled softly, "Being with a...girl...a woman can be
difficult for a young man, especially one who learned from a man like your
father.  Your father isn't the most romantic of men." Karthik gazed down at
me quizzically.  "Um..."

   "I think I can help, Kanna," I raised a hand to gently caress his cheek.
"If you want me to, that is."

   Confusion flooded his eyes.  I could see him trying to decipher what I
was saying.  I smiled kindly up at him and said, "I can help you 'practice'
being with a girl so that when you do find one you like you won't be
nervous."

   "What do you mean, Amma?" He was flustered.

   "Take kissing." I leaned back in the circle of his arms and looked up at
him, "You can practice kissing me until you feel comfortable enough to try
it with other girls.  Or dating.  You can take me out on dates and I can
show you how to treat a lady.  Who knows, it could even be fun."

   I was starting to get excited about the prospect of 'helping' Karthik. I
was truly trying to help him, but if I could also get some loving from him,
I wasn't going to gripe about it.

   "I'm game, Amma." Karthik said happily and hugged me tight, "When can we
start?"

   "There is nothing wrong with the present, Kanna," I winked at him, "Kiss
me, Karthik."

   He froze for a long moment as I waited expectantly.  Finally, he lowered
his face to mine and lightly kissed me.  He recoiled as if he thought I was
going to slap him.

   I giggled.  "What the heck was that?  Kiss me like you mean it; like I'm
your favorite girl."

   He laughed nervously and leaned down and kissed me again.  Our lips were
closed but I could feel him relax as he pressed his mouth firmly to mine.
His lips were soft and warm and supple.  I closed my eyes and kissed him
back.

   I don't recall how long our first real kiss lasted.  It might have been
a minute or five.  When he pulled back he was flushed and his delicate
nostrils were flared.  And I could feel the beginnings of an erection in
his trousers.

   I was in a similar state.

   "Oh, Kanna," I whispered softly, "That was very nice."

   Karthik was beaming with happiness.  Without an invite, he dipped his
face again and covered my mouth with his.  I reached up and wrapped my arms
around his neck and held onto him.  He moaned hard when I opened my mouth
and pushed my tongue against his lips until they parted and my tongue
slipped into his mouth.

   His arms around me tightened as I sought for and found his tongue with
my own.  In seconds our tongues were coiling and dancing together.  He was
kissing me like we were old familiar lovers.  I was in heaven.  Karthik's
saliva was sweet and warm, his tongue was thick, his lips gentle and
clinging.

   My body was on fire.  I had never been kissed so well or so
passionately. Ever.  When we came up for air, we were both panting for
oxygen.  Karthik's eyes were glazed over.  He looked dazed.  And his
erection was creating a difficulty that he was unable to solve at the
moment.

   He squirmed in my arms, trying to adjust himself and to try preventing
me from noticing.

   I cupped the side of his face and smiled, "Wow!  You sure kiss nice.  I
don't think you need practice, Kanna.  And, Kanna," I added, slipping my
hands down around his waist and pulling him snuggly against me, "Don't
worry about that.  I am flattered, more than anything else." He felt
enormous inside his pants.

   Karthik looked relieved when he finally connected the dots and knew I
was talking about his arousal.  "Oh my God, Amma!  Kissing you is the most
exciting thing I've ever experienced in my life.  Are you sure I can't
practice it anymore.  You know what they say, 'practice makes perfect.'"

   He was grinning foolishly, no longer concerned about the condition of
his penis.  Evidently if I didn't mind, he sure didn't.

   I brushed the hair from his forehead with one hand and held him at the
waist with the other.

   "Kanna, you can practice kissing with me anytime you like.  I love you
so much."

   "I love you, too, Amma." He whispered as he lowered his mouth to mine
and kissed me again.

   Over the next hour, he practiced almost non-stop.  He kissed me so many
times my head was spinning.  And he was very, very good.  He could be
gentle and delicate at times, his lips and tongue slowly building my
excitement level, or he could be fierce and fiery, as if he were trying to
devour me.

   We moved to the couch and snuggled together, giggling and flirting
playfully like lovers.  I loved the sensation of his tongue in my mouth and
his hands on my body.  He occasionally nuzzled my neck, nibbling and
sucking softly at my skin.  He was driving me insane.

   Apparently, I was going to have to coax him, because the entire time we
were making out, he never once tried to touch my breasts or groin.  The one
time he reached behind me and gripped my butt through my dress I almost
orgasmed on the spot.

   I was more stimulated than I had ever been in my life, but eventually,
all good things have to come to an end.  The grandfather clock announced
eight o'clock.

   I pulled away from him and giggled at his pouting.  "As much as I
enjoyed this, Kanna, your father will be home soon and I don't think he'd
appreciate my tutoring you." Disappointment flashed across his face, "Don't
be upset, we'll have many opportunities for you to practice in the near
future."

   "I'm looking forward to the next time already, Amma." He grinned
ruefully and pushed up from the couch.

   It looked like he had a very long and very fat banana in his pants. 
Whatever it was he had between his legs looked colossal.

   I managed to choke and pointed at his crotch, "You may want to take care
of that, too.  I'm not going to help you with it and it would be difficult
to explain why you got all excited watching sports"

   He blushed and nodded sluggishly but made no effort to hide it as he
walked to the staircase.  "Are you sure I can't talk you into taking care
of it for me, Amma." I bit off my first response and giggled, "Naughty boy,
!  I think that is a job you can take care of yourself."

   Alone on the couch, I struggled to bring myself under control.  I needed
fresh panties and my hands shook my desire was so strong.  I was being
consumed by passion that was incinerating everything in its path.

   I staged to my feet and drunkenly made my way to the second floor. 
Outside the hall bathroom, I heard a very distinctive rhythmic slapping
sound and moaned inwardly as I wished I could watch Karthik jerking off.