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A mother's story

A mother's story

By: amit sharma


Hi guys. Time for a hot story. This time it is a true story of real love and lust between a mother and son which happened in India. Yes this is a true story. So read carefully because there might be another mommy lurking in the corner for you.

This happened as I turned sixteen. I was just out of class tenth and so far I had studied in a boarding school. This was my first time in my life to stay with my parents. My father was a doctor with state government and was posted 35 km from home. He used to come home only on weekends and sometimes even fortnights went on and he didn’t come. His name was Dr. Sudarshan Sharma.

My mother is actually my maasi who married my father after my mother’s death. My maasi had a girl and a boy from father of her own. Although she was sort of step mommy for me yet we were very close.

Now let me describe my mother, sushma. She is very fair with beautiful lips and eyes. Her chochies r not that big but they are shapely and inviting. She often wears designer bras which are usually pink in color. She used to dress up in full nighty at night while kneading the floor and doing all household activities. I have rarely seen her in saris, she wears a salwaar kameez usually. But she has very sexy shiny skin with a little hair at the back of her arm. She usually baths at ten when is about to sleep.

We often hugged each other very much. But on coming back from boarding college, I started getting sexual enjoyment and I often felt bad at it. She was after all my own mother. What a pervert I’ve been thinking all about her. The more I told myself that I more horny I got now. I got her pics taken in the day and replaced them with the bodies of the sluts I had and saw my mommy in all those poses. Everyday I used to do that. Then I changed my mother’s name in the sexy stories and read them aloud for masturbation. I was getting hornier by the day. One day I even stole her used panties. They were lacy red n smelled a heavenly scent of her cunt smeared with her urine. I was an intoxicating smell and I went mad after it. There was even some pussy hair on that panty. I ate those hair, kissed the panty, sucked it n masturbated. Then it became a habit. I don’t know whether mom knew it but everyday I stole her used panties and put then back after my share. This went on for some time. I was sixteen and I was so horny. Then one day something happened.

As it was summers in north India, the heat grew worse and my father came home with an A.C. it was fixed in mom-dad’s room. My father returned to his job after few days. At night, it was quite hot and my mother came to me and said. She was dressed in a flowering light pink gown. I could make out form its shape that she probably had just panties on.

“Mithu (my nick name)! It is so hot here. You can come and sleep in my room as your father is not here”

I couldn’t wait for a better opportunity and I jumped with joy and said…sure mother…



I went to her room. My stepbrother karan and sister shikha were sleeping in the other room. Shikha was 17 and was real good looking girl. I saw at her in sleep and gasped. Then I reached into mother’s room. It had a pink bulb on and it made the room look so sexy. The bed was a king size and there was satin bed sheet on it. The room looked so tidy. My mother had even played light Indian classical instrumental music to add to its sexiness. The room was so tidy and clean, and it looked like the newly weds room oozing with sexiness and waiting for a fuck.

My mother came to the room and bolted it from inside. She had flowers on her hair which smelt of jasmine. The whole atmosphere was electrifying. How could I control, myself. I went up to her and took her in my arms and planted a kiss on her lips. She drew me back and said.

“Are…mithu …I m your mother. What are you doing to me? I am married to your father.”

Oh. Mother! I can’t hold it anymore. I just love you mother. I’m sorry. She instead pushed me back and said how I could even think about it. I felt sorry for all this and still I told her that I couldn’t live without her. Then after some silence she said.

“Ok mithu! Now tell me do you want to marry me. You can’t do all those things with me without getting married. Tell me is that what my son wants. Marry his own mother!”

I got a chill up to my spine as I heard those words. I went up to her, took her hand in mine and kissed her lightly on her forehead on her bindi and said “o mother! My goddess, I love you so much that I worship you. Marry me for love mother. I need you so much”

Then she switched the light off and said that she will make all the arrangements tomorrow. I slept next to her and could see her beautiful breasts heaving with breath. I could not hold myself and placed my hands on her chuchies. Ah! She had no bra and I felt right up to her nipples. This time there was no objection. I pressed them nicely and a soft moan escaped my mother’s lips. After a little cusping and kneading she said.

“O my son, my lover! Wait till we are married”

And we slept in each others arms, feeling so close that I came twice that night. The heat of my mother’s body was too much for me. I woke up only to see my mother and kids gone.

She came at the afternoon and told me to get ready. She had already brought me a wedding suit to wear. She dresses up in a sleeveless noodle blouse and came back in a firing blazing red wedding sari. She had a lot of ornaments too. She really looked like a goddess. She came close to me and said.



“This is the same sari which I wore when I married your father. Only the blouse is different.”

I put my arms around her and kissed her cheek, “o mother I love you so much”

We then hurried from the home as she got a taxi and asked the driver to go to the suthakaami temple. This temple was famous for incestuous and unholy practices of marriage and it also had a few devadasis. We reached the temple and the priest took us to a corner where there was a pandaal in the center and a few people had gathered. She took me there and I sat next to her as the pandit started reciting mantras. I looked at my mother. She looked so beautiful dressed as a bride. I felt as in dream. And who were all these people my mother had gathered to witness the tying of our unholy incestuous knot. The priest then asked me to put some indoor (vermillion) in the center of my mother’s hair. I took it and smeared it in her head taking her as a wife. He then gave me a manglasutra to tie around my mother’s neck. My mother smiled as she had one already. I quickly removed the one tied by my father and tied my mangalsutra, the symbol of our union, around her neck. The pundit got up and told us to take seven rounds of holy fire.

My mother walked in front and I followed her as we circled the holy fire which burnt all other bonds we had. Now I was her husband and she was my wife. After rounds of fire, people threw flowers on the newly married couple and exchanged greetings. What a wonderful thought it was that I had married my mother. I felt like the luckiest son in the world.

When we got home she said that by going round the fire I had married her for seven lives. I got close to her and took her in my arms before planting a full mother son French kiss on her lips.

O my mother! My wife.

O my son! My husband. Show me how much you love me.

My mother had cleverly sent the children to her parents place. Now we two were alone at home. It was already evening when we reached home. Mom looked so pretty dressed in all jewelry and her wedding sari. Her blouse was giving exactly the kind of show I craved for.

She asked me to go to my room and wait.

I was surprised to see the room decorated with flowers and candles. Sex was in the air, I knew. As I sat on the bed, my mom entered the room. She had a glass of milk in her hands. She came to me and said,

“From now on I am your wife so call me sushma .ok”

Yes my darling sushma. I drank half the milk and gave her half. She had the prettiest milk moustache I had ever seen. I cleaned it with my tongue and began kissing her while my hands on motherly instincts had gone to her beautiful mounds feeling them over her blouse. Mom kissed me back with pure lust she had been keeping in the garb of love and affection. We started necking while my hands had pulled out her blouse and were opening the hook of her designer bra.

Her two beautiful breasts fell out as I looked at my own mother looking so sexy and beautiful. I felt like kamadeva having sex with my own mother, Rati. She had nicely shapely white breasts and she had pinkish brown areolas bigger than the rupee coin. Her nipples were standing erect like two beans and to my utter surprise, she had very short hair around her areolas. Her nipple was unusually long and must have been more than an inch and seems like two clitorises on fire. They were shining pink. I took a good look at them and then took one of her erect nipple in my mouth and gave it a sweet bite with my teeth. My mother moaned with pleasure.

O Rama! O Krishna! My own son is going to make love to me. O god.

While rubbing my hand on one of her chuchies I ate the other one, nibbles at the teats and even tried to take her full booby in my mouth. I opened my mouth full and took a hearty bite of both her chuchies. Her hands were at the back of my head stroking my hair.

Mummy ….bete ko dudhu do na

Le beta…jitna marzi le na

My hand moved on to her bellybutton and my fingers danced on her naked skin. My mouth drew down and I kissed and licked my mother’s flat hairless bellybutton. She was still dressed in her bridal jewelry and a golden chain fell over her tummy. Then she lifted her saree without removing it up to her thighs. I kissed my mother’s milky thighs and licked them to my delight. My mother was now kneading her breasts and moaning heaving. The whole room was filled of sex sounds as I lowered my face to kiss my mother’s hungry cunt over her designer panties. She just squirmed in pleasure. The beautiful red lacy panties had a floral pattern on it much like the panties in that French movie I saw or like those sexy panties of Dr chaman’s wife those sexy purple, hot red, naughty flowery black and motherly torn brownish .just by looking at her panties, I remembered my days of masturbation after seeing those panties and sometimes even getting a few of motherly breasts of my neighbor’s wife. I could even make out her panty line from behind when she used to sleep. I often wondered if she fucked with her dog like my vinod maasi who I had fucked on a number of occasions. I remember that vinod maasi ...


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