My name is Rohan, and I hail from India. I have been happily married for the past ten years, and my wife and I are blessed with two beautiful children. We reside in a suburb of Mumbai, while I work for a large engineering firm. My parents live in Nasik, which isn’t far from Mumbai.
I have fond memories of my childhood and early youth in Nasik. As their only son, I enjoyed the love and care of both my parents. My father once worked as a clerk for a small company and is now retired, while my mother, who has always been a devoted housewife, has been a constant, caring presence. My mother married my father at the age of nineteen, when he was twenty-nine, and I was born when she was twenty. Due to financial constraints, my parents decided not to have another child, although I often wished for a brother or sister.
My father never paid much attention to his health, indulging in poor eating habits and regular drinking. In contrast, my mother always avoided oily foods, and her daily chores kept her in good shape. I was a carefree, happy individual who did well in school and on the playground, dedicating much of my time to playing cricket and cycling.
As I grew older, I sometimes found myself daydreaming about being intimate with my mother—she was the only woman I always had around. Separately, I developed a deep crush on a classmate named Anuradha. Although I never mustered the courage to propose to her before leaving school, we remained friendly, occasionally talking and exchanging notes. After school, I lost contact with her.
I completed my secondary school (SSC) and chose science for my higher secondary studies, determined to become an engineer.
Everything proceeded normally until my third year of engineering when, at the age of 20 and with my father being 50, a crisis struck. My father suffered a stroke that left him paralyzed for a time; he spent a week in the hospital. Thankfully, his relatively young age meant that he was able to regain some control over his limbs. His right side was especially affected—he lost the use of his right hand, struggled to walk, limping and dragging his right foot, while his speech became slurred. I spent a full year massaging his legs, hands, and back to stimulate muscle recovery and encourage improvement. Despite my efforts and extensive physiotherapy, he never fully recovered. On the bright side, he has since overcome his issues with drinking and oily foods and now takes a daily walk to stay fit.
This narrative recounts those turbulent days when my father was first brought home from the hospital.
Back To Home
I opened the taxi door to help my father, carefully pulling him out and supporting him as we made our way toward our house. My mother walked alongside him, and once inside, I assisted him into his bed so that he could rest.
"That’s it, Dad. Rest until the evening, and then I’ll give you a massage," I said reassuringly.
My father remained silent, too shocked by what had happened to express any words—he was on the verge of tears.
"Don’t worry, Dad. You’ll be alright," I continued. Though I wore a brave smile, I was deeply worried; there was always the risk of another stroke. I stepped out of the bedroom and signaled to Mom, and together we moved into the living room.
"Look, Ma, this is a serious situation. We must do everything we can to help him recover," I said.
"I know, Rohan," she replied softly.
"Stick to the strict diet the doctor has prescribed, and do your best to keep him cheerful."
"Okay," she murmured in a low voice.
The emotional trauma had drained all our energy.
A few weeks later, my father began physiotherapy while I continued to massage him daily. There was some improvement in his leg, but his right hand showed little progress. This routine went on for months. Eventually, my father retired because he could no longer perform his duties, and his pension—limited by his incomplete service period—was barely enough for us to survive. We managed on the savings he had accumulated. By then, my dedication to my parents was total. I took over household chores, helped with grocery and vegetable shopping, and assisted Mom with cooking and cleaning.
My life was entirely transformed. I had become distant from my friends and spent most of my time indoors after college. Mom noticed this change and felt deeply sorry for me.
One day, Mom asked, "Rohan, why don’t you go play cricket with your friends?"
"I can’t, Ma," I replied.
"Why not? Your father is doing better now—you could go out."
"But I want to be here with you, Ma. Who knows when I might be needed?"
"That’s true, but the playground is just a short distance from our home. I can call you if we need your help."
"No, Ma. I just don’t want to leave you."
"Oh, Rohan, you’re such a good boy. I wish you had brothers or sisters—now, everything falls on your shoulders."
"It’s alright, Ma. I’ll take care of everything," I assured her. Mom looked at me with pride.
As months went by, my father’s bank account dwindled, and we began to feel the pinch. We had to ration everything—food, water, electricity. Realizing that rationing wouldn’t sustain us for much longer, I decided to take on a part-time job. Fortunately, the owner of the company where my father had worked offered me a position as a token of gratitude for his service. I worked five hours every day from 7 p.m. to midnight, responsible for keeping records of the goods transported from the warehouse.
The days were incredibly challenging. Between attending college, completing homework, working my part-time job, and caring for my father, life felt overwhelmingly painful. I often came home completely exhausted and would fall asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow. During that arduous period, my bond with my mother grew even closer. She was so proud of me that she would often kiss my forehead; in the mornings, she’d enter my room and gently run her fingers through my hair to wake me up, sometimes even giving me a tender kiss on the cheek.
I eventually passed my engineering exams and secured an apprenticeship at a company that produced automobile spare parts. I was appointed as a trainee supervisor on the shop floor. Although the salary wasn’t very high, I felt a sense of relief since the stress of studying was behind me. While I was interested in eventually moving to Mumbai for work, I decided to gain some more experience first.
With more time at my disposal, old fantasies resurfaced—imaginings of making love to my mother. At times, guilt would wash over me, yet those fantasies persisted relentlessly.
My mother was truly beautiful—strongly built with broad shoulders. Her deep black eyes and thick, dark hair belied her age, and her ample bosom and rounded figure added to her allure.
As the years passed, my sexual frustration only grew. I was now twenty-four and still a virgin, and my parents avoided discussing marriage out of concern that if I moved out, they would be left to fend for themselves.
I am disciplined
One Saturday, while my father had gone out for a walk, I was seated in the living room watching the morning news. My mom entered with two cups of tea, offered me one, and sat beside me, sipping her own. I always felt comforted when she sat that close. On the news, they were covering a murder case linked to sexual motives.
"This guy should be hanged," my mother remarked.
"That isn’t fair, Ma. He’s only a suspect, not proven guilty yet."
"I know, I know, but he must be the one."
"But Ma, maybe he acted out of frustration," I countered.
Our conversation gradually deepened until it took a dramatic turn when I asked, "Ma, may I ask you something?"
"Anything, dear. Go on."
"It’s very personal," I admitted.
"That's fine—ask me."
"Ma... how is Dad?"
“What do you mean by that? You know he's fine now.”
"No, that's not what I meant," I stammered.
"Then what do you mean?" she pressed.
"I’m asking... how is he in... in the bed?" I mumbled, hesitating as I spoke.
She fell silent, clearly crestfallen.
"Ma, please don't misunderstand me," I hurried to add.
Confused, she looked into my eyes, wondering what exactly her son wanted to know.
"I just want to know if Dad can perform after his stroke. I'm really sorry if I've offended you."
Her tension visibly eased as she understood my concern.
"It’s nothing, beta," she started.
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"I just don't know how to discuss this with you," she admitted, her voice trembling.
"It’s okay, Ma. I'm sorry," I said.
"No, Rohan, there's no need to apologize. You're grown up now, and as my son, you have every right to ask. Yet, I’m at a loss about what to say. I’ve always wanted to talk about this with someone," she confessed, her voice cracking.
"Then please tell me, Ma. Maybe sharing it will help you feel better," I encouraged.
"Rohan, your father simply can’t do anything after the stroke."
"Oh no, Ma."
"Yes, Rohan. A few months after his stroke, I tried everything, but I couldn’t get him motivated. He just can’t get ‘it’ up."
"So... how do you... I mean, how do you satisfy yourself?" I ventured to ask, haltingly.
"When it becomes unbearable, I do it myself," she replied, knowing exactly what I was hinting at.
I felt an unexpected stir as the conversation unfolded.
"It must be so hard for you, Ma. It’s been four years now."
"Yes, but what can you do?" She finished her tea and placed the cup on the table.
"Ma, four years might seem like a short time for you, but for me it has felt like an eternity."
Feeling emboldened by the intimate nature of our conversation, I set my cup down, moved closer to her, and wrapped my arms around her. I leaned in for a kiss, but she instantly pushed me away.
"What are you doing, Rohan?" she demanded, anger edging her voice.
"I just..." I began.
Before I could finish, she struck me hard on the cheek—a slap far stronger than any she had ever given.
"Ma, I just—"
"Enough, Rohan! I always thought you were such a good boy. I was trying to confide in you about your father's condition and my own frustrations because I felt so alone with this burden."
Tears of shame filled my eyes as I muttered, "I'm sorry, Ma. Please forgive me," and then walked silently toward my bedroom.
Devastated by the humiliation, I stayed in my room, too ashamed to face her again. I even skipped lunch. When Father called me to join him, I told him I wasn’t hungry. He didn’t press the issue and left, while I prayed silently that Mom wouldn’t mention our conversation to him.
In the evening, my father stepped out for a walk. My mother entered my room, finding me lying face down on the bed. She sat on the edge of the mattress and gently rubbed my back.
"Get up, Rohan. You must be hungry. I brought you something to eat," she said softly.
"I'm not hungry," I murmured, keeping my head down. I couldn't find the courage to look at her.
"Don't be silly. Let's forget what happened and get up now," she urged affectionately, her hand still moving over my back in a reassuring manner. Eventually, I found the courage to turn around, though I still avoided eye contact.
"Forget everything, Rohan. Here, have this," she said, offering me a cup of tea and a piece of cake. I took the cake and finished it quickly, my hunger getting the better of me. My mom laughed.
"See, I told you. You're hungry; you can't hide anything from me. Wait, I'll bring some more cake for you," she said, returning with a few more pieces. She was smiling now, which gave me the encouragement to finally face her. I looked into her eyes.
"Ma, I..."
"Shhhhh," she said, placing her finger on my lips. "It's okay, Rohan. I'm sorry I slapped you. You're grown up now."
"I'm sorry, Ma. You're so beautiful, you always turn me on," I confessed. She blushed.
"Rohan, don't talk like that."
"Ma, just like you, I'm frustrated too. What happened today was because of this frustration. I won't let it happen again, Ma. Maybe it's time to look for a bride for me. I wish I could have a wife like you."
She looked at me, a worried expression on her face.
"Okay, have these," she said, giving me the cake. "Rohan, I'm sorry, dear. I slapped you."
"No, Ma, it's your right. But please don't tell Dad."
"Of course, I won't let him know anything," she assured me. "Okay, dear, we'll talk more about this later."
She smiled and turned to leave the room. I couldn't help but watch her beautiful figure as she walked away. I brushed off the thoughts and focused on the cake. Feeling much relieved, I moved to the living room to watch TV after finishing my snack.
That night, I had dinner with my parents and retired to my bedroom early.
And it happened
The tumultuous events of the day replayed in my mind like a ceaseless symphony, keeping sleep at bay. Intertwined with these thoughts were fantasies of seducing my beloved ma. As the night wore on, the sandman finally began to weigh down my eyelids, and I slowly drifted towards the shores of sleep.
A sudden noise at my door jarred me awake. My eyes fluttered open, and I heard the unmistakable sound of someone fumbling with the doorknob. I tossed off my blanket and padded silently towards the door, my heart pounding like a drum in my chest. The door creaked open, and to my astonishment, in slipped my mom, her silhouette bathed in the soft moonlight.
She gasped, her hand flying to her mouth as she saw me standing there, a mere few feet away. Her eyes widened in stunned surprise, and for a moment, time seemed to freeze. She stepped inside, pushed the door closed, and, without turning around, slid the latch to lock it from inside. The click of the lock echoed through the room, and my heart began to pound like a tribal drum, primal and urgent.
We stood there, frozen, like two statues in a tableau of uncertainty. I was confused, recalling the sting of her slap when I had previously dared to make an advance. Yet, here she was, coming to me of her own accord. She, too, seemed torn, her body language a dance of indecision.
"Ma," I whispered, my voice barely audible, a mere rustle of leaves in the night.
"Shhh, slowly your father may wake up," she cautioned, taking a step towards me. I mirrored her movement, drawn to her like a moth to a flame. We stood face to face, close enough to feel each other's breath, yet neither of us knew how to bridge the final gap. I tentatively placed my hands around her waist, then dropped them, my nerves getting the better of me. She mirrored my actions, her hands fluttering to my chest before retreating.
We were adrift in the same boat, wanting to happen but unsure of how to start. Finally, I gathered enough courage, took a deep breath, and placed my hands around her waist, pulling her towards me. The ice broke, and the result was sweet ambrosia. She wrapped her arms around my back, hugging me tightly, her body pressing against mine.
"Ohhh Rohan," she whispered, her voice a soft sigh in the night.
"Ma, I can't believe this," I whispered back, my heart pounding in my chest.
"Rohan, in the evening you said I turn you on," she reminded me, her voice a sultry murmur.
"Yes ma yes," I confessed, my voice hoarse with desire and disbelief.
Our hands explored each other's backs, tracing the contours of muscles and vertebrae, as if memorizing every inch. She nuzzled her face against my chest, planting soft, tender kisses that sent shivers down my spine. My breath hitched, and my cock throbbed with anticipation, straining against the confines of my shorts. My mother's breathing was equally ragged, her chest heaving as she pressed her ample breasts against me. I tilted her chin up, wanting to see her expression, but the darkness concealed her features, save for the faint glow of the moonlight filtering through the sheer curtains.
I leaned in, my lips finding hers in the dark. The kiss was tentative at first, a soft press of lips, but it deepened quickly as she moaned and clung to me, her nails digging into my back. Her body molded against mine, soft curves pressing against hard planes, and I could feel her heart hammering against her ribcage, matching the frantic beat of my own. Her eyes, large and luminous, reflected the moonlight as she gazed up at me, a mix of desire and vulnerability swirling in their depths.
She grabbed a handful of my hair, pulling me closer as she kissed me again and again, her lips hungry and demanding. Her tongue invaded my mouth, exploring and tasting, and I was lost in the sensation, overwhelmed by the onslaught of pleasure. She sucked on my tongue, her moans vibrating against my lips as she ground her body against mine. The scent of her, musky and sweet, filled my nostrils, driving me wild with desire. My heart pounded in my chest, and my cock ached, desperate for release.
"Shhh, aah, Rohan, I want you so badly," she breathed, her voice a husky whisper. "I need you, Rohan."
"Ma, this feels incredible," I replied, my voice barely audible.
"Shh, Rohan, keep your voice down, or your father will wake up," she warned, her eyes darting towards the door.
"I will," I assured her, and we moved towards my bed, our hearts pounding with anticipation.
My mother lay back on the bed, her chest heaving with each ragged breath. I climbed on top of her, my body trembling with desire. She wrapped her legs around me, pulling me close, her eyes locked onto mine.
"What if Dad wakes up, Ma?" I asked, my voice shaking.
"Don't worry, he won't," she whispered. "I gave him an extra pill today. But we must be quiet."
Her breasts rose and fell with her heavy breathing, her nipples hard and pressing against her blouse. I leaned down and captured her mouth in a deep kiss, my hands roaming her body, memorizing every curve. She moaned softly, her nails digging into my back, urging me on.
I trailed kisses down her neck, her collarbone, and finally captured one of her nipples in my mouth, sucking and nipping gently. She arched her back, pressing her breast further into my mouth, her moans growing louder. I reached behind her, trying to unhook her blouse, but she pushed me away.
"Don't, Rohan," she whispered. "We don't have time. It takes too long to dress up again."
Instead, she pulled me back up, her hands exploring my chest, my shoulders, my arms. She kissed me deeply, her tongue invading my mouth, dueling with mine. I could feel her hands trembling as she pushed my shorts down, then my underwear, leaving me fully exposed.
"You're so strong, Rohan," she whispered, her voice filled with awe as she explored my body with her hands.
I pushed her blouse up, exposing her stomach, her ribs, and finally, her breasts, spilling out of her bra. I captured one nipple in my mouth, sucking and nipping, while my hand massaged and teased the other. She moaned and arched her back, pressing her breast further into my mouth.
"Rohan, please," she begged, her voice hoarse with desire. "I need you inside me."
I positioned myself at her entrance, feeling her wetness, her heat. She spread her legs wider, urging me on. I pushed in slowly, inch by inch, feeling her tight, wet heat envelop me.
"Oh, Ma," I moaned, my voice barely a whisper. "You feel so good."
"Shh, Rohan, keep your voice down," she reminded me, her breath coming in short gasps.
I began to move, slowly at first, then faster, harder, chasing our pleasure. Her moans filled the room, her nails digging into my back, urging me on. I could feel her body tensing, her breath hitching, and I knew she was close.
"Rohan, I'm close," she whispered, her voice hoarse. "Don't stop."
I increased my pace, my body slapping against hers, our sweat mingling, our breaths coming in sync. I could feel her body tensing, her inner muscles clenching around me, and I knew she was there.
"Rohan, I'm coming," she screamed softly, her body convulsing, her inner muscles milking me for all I was worth.
I followed her over the edge, my body tensing, my vision blurring, as I spilled myself inside her, filling her with my seed. We lay there, our bodies entwined, our hearts pounding, our breaths coming in sync, as we rode out our orgasms together.
"Wow, Rohan, that was amazing," she said, her voice filled with satisfaction as she kissed me gently.
"I know, Ma," I replied, a smug smile on my face. "I'm glad I could finally give you what you needed."
She smiled back at me, her eyes shining with happiness and contentment. "You did, Rohan. You really did."
Trouble
A few days slipped by without any significant events. My mom didn't visit me. I couldn't take advantage of the mornings when my dad went for his walk because he only left after I had gone to the office. His constant presence made it impossible for me to talk to my mom about this. One morning, as I was about to leave for work and my father was in the backyard garden, I finally asked her.
"Ma, please come today," I pleaded.
"Okay, I'll try," she replied.
"No, Ma, you must come. I need you badly."
"Alright, you go now, it's getting late for you."
"Ma, promise me you're coming today."
"Okay, honey, I promise. Now go," she said.
"Yesss!" I yelled excitedly and left for my office. My mom was smiling as I left.
That night, my mom came late when everything was quiet. She entered stealthily and locked the door. I was waiting for her. She was eager, coming directly into my arms. We hugged and kissed frantically. I was only in my shorts, and before I knew it, my mom had removed them. She lifted her sari and spread her legs for me. The sex was incredible that night. We finished in about half an hour.
"You're really a good lover, honey," she said.
"Thanks, Ma."
"You make me feel so full 'there'," she blushed.
"So please come tomorrow and every day."
"That's not possible, honey," she giggled.
"Why not, Mom?" I asked, pleading.
"I can't give an extra pill to your dad every day."
"Then come without giving any extra pill."
"What if he wakes up and finds out?" she asked.
"Hmmm," I said, disappointed.
"We can do it on Saturday and Sunday mornings when you're at home and your dad goes out for a walk," she suggested.
"That's great, Ma, but it feels better at night. I wish you could come every night."
"Honey, I'll try to come as much as I can."
"Okay, Ma."
"So now let me go, dear."
I moved away from her, and she quickly raced towards the bathroom.
Unfortunately, due to a heavy workload, we were all advised to do overtime and come in on weekends. I was disappointed as this would ruin my plans. We were told that this situation would continue for at least three months. So our plans to have unrestricted sex on weekends were spoiled. My mother would come to me only after four or five days.
My father didn't notice anything unusual. Encouraged by this, my mother increased the frequency of her visits. She would come every alternate day, except when she was on her period. We made very passionate love.
One night, we were in the middle of our lovemaking when I heard a knock on my door.
"It's Father, Ma," I said, terrified.
"Rohan, open the door. Your mom isn't in the house," he called out. He thought my mom had gone out somewhere but didn't suspect she was with me. I was terrified and didn't know how to react.
"Rohan, dress up. I'll handle this," she said firmly.
Surprised, I wondered what she was planning. I quickly pulled on my shorts and lay on the bed, covering myself. I was really terrified. My mom adjusted her sari and hair, got up from the bed, and slowly walked towards the door. My heart pounded as she removed the latch. She opened the door halfway, stepped out, and quickly pushed it back.
"What are you doing here?" my father asked loudly.
"Let's go to our room. I'll tell you," my mom said.
After a few seconds, I heard their door open and close. Curious and worried, I stood outside their room, listening. I was prepared to step in if needed.
"Okay, tell me now. What were you doing there?" my dad asked.
"Listen, our son is no longer a kid," my mom said.
"I know that. Come to the point."
"You see, he's now twenty-four, and his needs are not the same," my mom explained.
"What do you mean?" my father asked.
"Look, I just want to tell you that..."
"Don't confuse me. Just tell me why you were there?"
After a few minutes of silence, my mother spoke words I never thought she would say.
"What do you think two adults would do in the middle of the night in a closed room with lights switched off?"
"You bastard!" my father shouted.
"Don't shout at me," my mother yelled, taking an aggressive stand.
"Have you been able to satisfy me for the last four years?"
"Did I spare any efforts to stimulate you?"
My father didn't say anything. He was likely stunned by my mother's questions, which directly attacked his manhood and humiliated him.
"Do I not have any feelings? Any desires? Am I too old not to have any sexual desire?" Her voice cracked.
After a few seconds of silence, she continued.
"I've been serving you like a maid without any complaints. I sponged you, cleaned your refuse when you were immobilized. I help you every day to tie your shoes, put on your clothes." She was sobbing now.
"I have no existence. For the last four years, I haven't even gone out of the house. I haven't seen a single movie; I've never been to any restaurant. I'm just working as your maidservant." She was now crying loudly.
I felt sorry for my mother. For the first time, I realized what she was going through.
"Our son is now twenty-four, and people are already bringing marriage proposals for him. What do you think will happen when he gets married and moves out?"
"Is your pension enough for us to sustain?"
"By giving up to him, I'm ensuring he stays with us," she declared.
"Besides, he is doing what you are not able to do," she humiliated him again.
"So, what do you want to do now? Want to kill me? Go ahead, kill me and relieve me from my duties as your maid." My mom was very angry. I was surprised how the tide had turned.
"But what you are doing is wrong," my father finally said.
"Don't preach to me what is wrong and what is right. In our time of distress, nobody helped us, not even your brothers and sisters." Her anger spilled out.
"Our son massaged you for more than a year; he took on all the household responsibilities. He even took up a job when kids of his age were enjoying."
"My heart went out for him every day. Did you forget how many sacrifices he has made for our family?" She was now emotional.
"I know what I am doing is not moral as per the society in which we live. But I don't care for that society."
"It is payback time now. I am doing exactly what I should do," she said firmly.
Nothing happened for a few minutes. I waited there for some more time but didn't hear any more conversation. I assumed they had settled in their beds and walked back to my room.
New Beginning
The next morning, I lay face down on my bed, the weight of the previous night's events pressing heavily on my mind. It was well past time to rise, but I lacked the courage to face my father. I yearned to escape to the office, to avoid the inevitable embarrassment, but I knew I couldn't evade him forever. He would be in the living room, engrossed in the morning news. I heard my door creak open, but I remained motionless, my face buried in the pillow. It was my mother who entered, her presence immediately comforting.
She sat gently on the edge of the bed, her hand softly rubbing my back in a soothing rhythm. I felt a sense of security and love, like a child being comforted by its mother. "Get up, honey," she murmured, her voice gentle yet firm. "Your dad has gone out for his morning walk earlier than usual. Perhaps he wants to avoid you too."
I rolled over to face her, the reality of our situation sinking in. I attempted to kiss her, but she gently pushed me back, a soft smile on her lips. "You need to brush your teeth first," she teased, her eyes twinkling with amusement.
I nodded, feeling a flush of embarrassment, and quickly made my way to the bathroom. I took care of my morning routine—brushing my teeth, taking a shower—and emerged feeling refreshed. My mother had already prepared my breakfast and tea, the aroma wafting through the air as I entered the living room.
"Wow, that smells amazing, Ma. What did you make?" I asked, inhaling the enticing scent.
"It's just your usual omelette and bread, but I added a bit of butter this time. Maybe that's why it smells so good," she replied with a warm smile.
I approached the table, where she was standing, and wrapped my arms around her waist, pulling her close. She responded in kind, her arms encircling my neck as she pressed her body against mine. Our lips met in a passionate kiss, a silent promise of the love and desire that bound us.
"Mom, I heard everything yesterday," I confessed, my voice barely above a whisper.
"You little rascal, you were eavesdropping on us," she teased, a playful glint in her eye.
"No, Ma, I was standing there just in case Dad got violent with you," I explained, my expression serious.
"So, you heard everything?" she asked, her voice soft.
"Yeah, everything until you said 'payback time,'" I confirmed, holding her gaze steadily.
She flushed with color as she poured tea into my cup. After finishing my breakfast, I hurried to my office. That day was quite unsettling for me at work. I found it hard to focus, anxiously watching the clock until 6 p.m. Time seemed to crawl at a snail's pace. Finally, the long day ended, and I made my way back home.
When I got there, my mom greeted me at the door. I headed straight to my bedroom, wanting to steer clear of my dad, who was engrossed in watching TV in the living room. However, avoiding him completely wasn’t an option—I’d have to face him at dinner. At the table, I kept my gaze down to avoid making eye contact with him, and he did the same. I quickly finished my meal and retreated to my room. It was still early to sleep, so I picked up a book to read.
Around 11 p.m., my mom entered my room and closed the door, which was unexpected as she usually came to see me after midnight. She wore flowers in her hair and came straight into my embrace. I gently pulled her closer and kissed her.
"Ma you are early today?" I asked her.
"You did not hear what your father said afterwards"
"What did he say ma?"
"He said he won't mind our relationship and even encouraged me to sleep with you everyday" she said brushing her nose against my chest.
Upon hearing this, I was thrilled. It all made sense now why he hadn't spoken to me or sought any interaction. He must have come to terms with the fact that he wouldn't recover. Allowing his wife to be with me instead of another person was likely in his best interest, as it would prevent any humiliation or rumors spreading about his situation.
"Oh, Ma," I murmured, my voice husky with desire as I positioned myself on top of her. I captured her lips in a gentle kiss, feeling her soft, pliable mouth yield to mine. Her fingers combed through my hair, sending shivers down my spine, as she pulled me closer, her arms wrapping around my back, holding me tightly against her.
I could feel the softness of her body beneath me, her full breasts pressing against my chest, her nipples hardening as they brushed against me. I moved my face down to her chest, rubbing my cheek against her soft mounds, inhaling her intoxicating scent. She moaned softly, her breaths coming in short gasps as I kissed and sucked on her breasts, my hands exploring her body, memorizing every curve and contour.
"Uhh, Rohan, that feels so good," she whispered, her voice laced with pleasure as she pressed my head against her breasts, urging me on. I could feel her heart pounding in her chest, matching the frantic beat of my own.
I was naked, my shorts discarded in a flash, my body exposed and vulnerable under her gaze. She pushed me away gently, her eyes roaming over my body, taking in every inch of me. I felt a flush of embarrassment but also a thrill of excitement as she looked at me with raw desire.
"Let me see how my boy looks," she said, her voice husky with lust. She reached out, her hands exploring my chest, my shoulders, my arms, her touch setting my skin on fire. I could feel my cock throbbing, fully erect and ready, resting against her thigh.
"Rohan, I want to see it," she said, her voice barely a whisper. I hesitated, feeling shy and embarrassed, but she encouraged me, her eyes locked onto mine.
"Don't be ashamed, Rohan. It's okay. It's just you and me," she said softly, her thumb gently caressing my cheek. I took a deep breath and moved away from her, my cock standing tall and proud, pulsating with need.
"Wow," she exclaimed, her eyes wide with surprise and admiration. "It is so red and thick," she said, her voice filled with awe. I blushed, feeling proud and embarrassed all at once.
She pulled me back towards her, her lips capturing mine in a passionate kiss. "You know, Rohan, you have made me feel like a woman again," she whispered against my lips. "You make me feel wanted and loved. I would have gone mad if this hadn't happened between us."
"I love you, Ma. You are so sweet," I replied, my voice choked with emotion.
"I love you too, honey," she said, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "You don't know how frustrated I was for all these years. The agony I went through..."
"I know, Ma. I'm here for you now," I said, my fingers tangling in her hair as I kissed her forehead, her cheeks, her lips, showing her with my actions what I couldn't express in words.
She sighed contentedly, her body relaxing under mine as she enjoyed my touch. "It feels so good when you love me like this, Rohan," she murmured. "Your dad never loved me like this. He was only interested in one thing."
I tried to defend him, but she shook her head. “He was clumsy and insensitive. He never made me feel loved or desired. I always felt like a sex slave, used and discarded. But with you, it's different. You make me feel alive.”
"It's all over now, Ma. You have me," I murmured, my voice a low rumble of reassurance. I pressed my body against her, feeling the soft mounds of her breasts against my chest, her nipples hardening as they brushed against me. I captured her lips in a passionate kiss, my hands roaming her body, memorizing every curve and contour. She moaned softly, her fingers tangling in my hair as she pulled me closer, her body arching against mine.
"Yes, honey," she sighed, her voice a husky whisper of desire.
I trailed kisses down her neck, her collarbone, and finally captured one of her nipples in my mouth, sucking and nipping gently. She arched her back, pressing her breast further into my mouth, her moans growing louder. I could feel my cock throbbing, hard as a steel bar, aching to be inside her.
"Rohan, remove my sari," she whispered, her voice laced with lust. "Your dad already knows everything, so what's the point in keeping it on?"
I slowly unraveled her sari, like a kid unwrapping a precious gift. She was left in her blouse and petticoat, her breasts heaving with each ragged breath. She reached behind her back and unhooked her blouse, her eyes never leaving mine. I helped her remove it, exposing her bra, which struggled to contain her massive breasts. I fumbled with the hook of her bra, my hands trembling with anticipation. She giggled and deftly unhooked it herself, her breasts spilling free.
"Next time, I won't do it for you," she teased, a playful glint in her eye.
I was stunned by the sight of her voluptuous breasts, much larger than I had imagined. Her nipples were a dark brown, erect and begging for my touch. I leaned down and took one into my mouth, sucking and swirling my tongue around it. She moaned loudly, her hands gripping my hair, pressing me closer.
"What are you looking at, Rohan? Don't you want to suck them?" she asked, her voice a low purr of desire.
"Wow, Ma, you are so gorgeous," I murmured, my voice hoarse with lust.
She pulled me towards her, her legs wrapping around my waist as she kissed me deeply, her tongue invading my mouth. I could feel her hands trembling as she reached between our bodies, untying the strings of her petticoat. Her fingers brushed against my cock, sending shocks of pleasure through me.
She lifted her hips slightly, and I slid her petticoat down to her thighs, exposing her black panties, which contrasted beautifully with her fair thighs. I lowered my face between her legs, kissing and nipping at the soft flesh of her inner thighs. She moaned loudly, her body writhing beneath me as I inched closer to her pussy.
"Aggghhhh, Rohan, sshhh, aaaaahhh," she moaned, her voice a mix of pleasure and anticipation.
I placed a soft kiss on her pussy over her panties, inhaling her musky scent. I could feel her wetness seeping through the fabric, and I knew she was ready for me. I hooked my fingers into the waistband of her panties and slowly pulled them down, exposing her thick, black pubic hair and her glistening pussy lips.
"Rohaaaan, come inside me, Rohan, sshhh, aghhhh," she begged, her voice hoarse with desire.
I positioned myself at her entrance, feeling her wet heat against the head of my cock. She spread her legs wide, urging me on, and I thrust into her with a single, powerful stroke. She screamed loudly, a mix of pain and pleasure, her nails digging into my back.
"O my God, it hurt, Rohan, oooooggghhh," she cried out, her body tensing around me.
I started to move slowly, in and out, giving her time to adjust to my size. I could feel her body relaxing, her pussy growing wetter with each stroke. I increased my pace, my body slapping against hers, our sweat mingling, our breaths coming in sync.
"Faster, honey, faster," she panted, her voice a hoarse whisper.
I propped myself up on my arms, looking down at her, watching her face contort with pleasure as I pounded into her. Her breasts bounced wildly, her nipples hard and erect, begging for my touch. I leaned down and captured one in my mouth, sucking and biting gently, eliciting a loud moan from her.
She had spread her legs wide apart to give me full access to her womanhood. I started to move frantically between her legs. Her breasts were swaying up and down violently. Our bed was creating creaking noise. Her bangles were creating clinking sounds. On top of that she was moaning and screaming loudly, shamelessly advertising what she wanted and what she was doing. This was now enough for me and I could no longer hold myself.
"I am coming maaa ssshhhh aaaahhhh"
"Ohhhh yesssss fill me Ssssshhhhh aggghhhhhhh" she moaned.
"Ohhhh Maaaaaaaaa Ssssssssssshhhhh Agggghhhhhhhhhhhhh"
"Sssss, agghhhh, Rohaaaannnnn," she screamed, her body convulsing beneath me.
"Maaaa, sshhhh, aaaahhhhh," I grunted, my body tensing as I felt my orgasm building.
"Faster, Rohan, faster, sshhhh, agghhhhhhh," she screamed, her body arching off the bed as she met my thrusts.
I could feel her pussy clenching around me, milking me for all I was worth. I knew she was close, and I increased my pace, my body slamming into hers with a frenzied intensity.
"Ohhhh, maaaa, I will come, maaaa," I grunted, my body tensing as I felt my release building.
"Ohhhhh, rip me apart, Aaaaiiiiggghaaa, Aaahhhhhhhh," she screamed loudly, her body shaking and convulsing as she came undone beneath me.
Her screaming drove me wild, and I knew her screams were for my benefit, a way of letting me know how much she enjoyed our forbidden pleasure. She clasped my buttocks as usual with her legs as she came. Waves of pleasure and ecstasy ran through our bodies. Our genitals were pulsating in unison. I could feel my cock throbbing, ready to explode, and I gave in to my release, spraying my hot seed deep inside her. My dick was spraying her pussy with my seeds and her pussy was sucking it hungrily.
"Aaaaiiiiighhhhhhaaaaa, sshhhh, aaaaahhhhhhhhhh," she screamed, her body convulsing as she came with me, her pussy sucking and milking me for all I was worth.
I lay on top of her pressing hard against her breasts. She was pulling me towards her by putting her hands around my back.
We lay there, our bodies entwined, our hearts pounding in sync, our breaths coming in ragged gasps as we rode out our orgasms together. We had the best orgasm of our lives as we were totally relaxed and there was no fear of getting caught. After some time I moved out of her as my dick went limp. I could feel her body relaxing beneath me, her limbs going limp as she came down from her high. I rolled off her, pulling her into my arms, our bodies slick with sweat and our breaths slowly returning to normal.
We lay there, holding each other, our bodies still joined, our hearts still pounding in sync. I could feel her breasts pressing against my chest, her nipples hard and erect, and I knew that this was just the beginning of our passionate encounter.
She then turned to me and rested her head over my chest and put her leg over my legs. She was caressing my nipple with her one hand. I just put my one hand around her back and gathered her closer to me. She was looking satisfied and relaxed.
I was determined to make her come again and again, to show her the pleasure that she had been missing out on for so long.
The following day, my mom moved into my room, bringing her small cupboard filled with most of her clothes, though she left a few items behind in case any relatives visited. On weekends, I would take her out to restaurants and movies, and sometimes, my dad joined us.
As time went on, my mom became less aware of her surroundings and more carefree. She would embrace and kiss me when I returned from work, even if my dad was present. She even left our bedroom door open during intimate moments. Occasionally, after being intimate, she would walk naked to the kitchen for a drink of water, passing by my dad's room, which he always kept open. This routine continued for three years. After that period, I received a job offer in Mumbai, a place I had always wanted to move to for better opportunities. Though I was hesitant to leave my mom, she encouraged me to go, and so I relocated to Mumbai. However, I visited her every weekend, and after a week apart, our reunions were filled with passion.
Mumbai
One fateful day, as I walked down the bustling streets of Mumbai, I suddenly spotted a familiar face—a face that had haunted my dreams for years. It was Anuradha, my childhood sweetheart, working as an architect in an office just a stone's throw from mine. My heart pounded in my chest as I recognized her instantly, despite the years that had passed. I couldn't believe my eyes, and without a moment's hesitation, I chased after her, calling her name loudly.
Anuradha turned around, startled to see a stranger pursuing her, his voice echoing her name. Confusion and fear flashed across her face as she tried to place me. It wasn't until I reminded her that I was Rohan, her classmate from school days, that recognition dawned on her features. A broad smile spread across her face, and she let out a joyous laugh, jumping up and down like a schoolgirl. In that moment, I felt a rush of emotions—excitement, nostalgia, and an undeniable spark of attraction.
During our first meeting, she eagerly shared that she was still unmarried, her eyes sparkling with a mix of hope and shyness. We met several times after that, each encounter feeling like a step back into our shared past. During one of these meetings, I mustered the courage to confess my longtime feelings for her. "Anu, I had a huge crush on you since we were in school," I admitted, my voice trembling with emotion.
She blushed deeply, her cheeks turning a beautiful shade of pink. "You men are so stupid," she teased, a playful smile playing on her lips.
"Why, Anu? Did I do something wrong?" I asked, desperate to understand her reaction.
"No, Rohan, actually, me too," she admitted, her voice barely a whisper as she averted her gaze, embarrassed by her own confession.
Did she have a crush on me? The question hung in the air, and I held my breath, hoping against hope that the answer would be yes. She blushed again and nodded slightly, still avoiding eye contact. My heart soared with joy and relief.
"Oh, Anu, do you still have those feelings?" I asked, my voice filled with anticipation.
She nodded again, a soft smile playing on her lips. "You should have told me a long time ago," she said, her voice tinged with regret.
"Better late than never," I replied, a grin spreading across my face as I felt like I was walking on cloud nine.
Our reunited blossomed into a whirlwind romance, and after several more meetings, I took the plunge and proposed to her. Anuradha accepted my proposal with a radiant smile, sealing our fate together. I shared the news with my mother, who was overjoyed that I was finally starting a family of my own. However, there was a tinge of sadness in her eyes, knowing that our secret meetings and passionate encounters would soon become a thing of the past.
Eventually, I tied the knot with my childhood sweetheart, Anuradha. Our life together has been nothing short of bliss. Anuradha is incredibly loving and caring, and our love for each other only grows stronger with each passing day. We are blessed with two adorable children, and our home in Mumbai is filled with warmth, laughter, and an abundance of love.
At 37, I continue to visit Nasik every month, where I am greeted by the passionate embraces of my mother. Our love-making sessions are wild and unrestrained, a secret passion that burns brightly between us. My mother is completely uninhibited, more passionate than my wife, and our monthly encounters leave me charged and invigorated. She has a way of making me feel alive, desired, and utterly consumed by passion.
