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Story Of A Mother And Her Son

As I sit at my desk to write this story I take a moment to gaze out of the window. And before I know it I'm magically transported back to the sixties, an era long gone by. Yet the memories are fresh like everything happened just yesterday. It was a time when things where far simpler, life was carefree and we were blessed with the beauty of youth. Life offered an abundanceof time to flirt with.
I come from a small sleepy little village located in the remote interiors of the Western Ghats of India. Even though it was quite an uncontroversial little place it was wealthy and its residents enjoyed a higher standard of living compared to the rest of the country. But due to its location and tiny population it lacked the opportunity for local education and so the youngsters where often sent to study in the big cities, of whom I happened to be one.
There was a three month break before the next year could begin, I was nineteen and at the end of first year at the University. All my life I had been a border at school and I was so looking forward to this vacation at home.
I woke up early on the first morning of my return and decided on a motor bike ride along the beautiful country roads. Since dad was away on business to the big city, I decided to ask mother for the keys. I yelled out asking her if she knew where they were. All I got was a muffled reply, so I walked over the passage to where her room was and asked again. She replied but I couldn't make out a thing of what she was saying.
Still unable to hear her, I pushed open the partially closed door and walked into her bedroom. Without a thought I scanned thebedside table for the keys failing to take note of my mother. Still unable to find the keys I looked up at her and realized that she was still in a state of undress. She was facing the mirror wearing only a white petticoat, her hands raised above her head tying her hair into a bun. Her large breasts with their dark brown nipples remained exposed.
Mother looked at me...
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