Forbidden Taboo Lust- Part 1

Bangalore is indeed a melting pot of cultures, with its diverse population hailing from all corners of India and the world. It’s a city that prides itself on its cosmopolitan nature, second only to Mumbai in terms of its diversity.

However, despite its many charms, there is a dark side to Bangalore that often goes unspoken. While the usual challenges of traffic congestion, pollution, water scarcity, and urban sprawl. Social inequality is present.

But there is another issue that is unique to Bangalore – a laid-back attitude towards work and life.  This is particularly noticeable among people who have migrated from bustling metros like Mumbai. In Mumbai, there’s a certain pace of life.

There is a sense of urgency that drives people to work hard and get things done quickly. However, in Bangalore, there is a more relaxed approach to life, a chill attitude that can sometimes border on procrastination. It has been twelve years since I made Bangalore my home.

This city holds a special place in my heart. It’s where I found love and got married. Now, in my third trimester, I am awaiting the arrival of our second child. My husband, Imran, is a liberal Muslim. I find myself oscillating between atheism and weak agnosticism.

Our journey has been one of love, challenges, and growth. Imran’s upbringing was unique. His parents passed away when he was young, and he was raised by his uncle Zubair and his Christian aunt, Roslyn, who hailed from Kerala. They provided him with a nurturing and accepting environment.

It has undoubtedly shaped his outlook on life and his beliefs. Imran and I faced our share of struggles, especially after the arrival of our first child. The desire to provide the best education for our kids led us to make significant financial sacrifices.

We both worked tirelessly to make ends meet, but it was a challenging time for us. In 2017, our lives took a significant turn when Imran received a job offer from a retailer in Dubai. This opportunity came with its set of pros and cons. But the greatest advantage was the substantial pay increase.

It would allow me to resign from my job and focus on taking care of our children full-time. At the time, my brother Arjun had just secured a seat in an engineering college in Bangalore. This was a crucial factor in our decision-making process.

It gave Imran peace of mind, knowing that I would have a family member for support, making his transition to professional life in Dubai more manageable for me and the kids. So, after much deliberation and discussion, we decided to accept the job offer and embark on a new chapter in our lives.

A few days after Imran left, Arjun came to our house. I gave him the room adjacent to mine. Two weeks had passed since he started living with me. He loved the city, made friends, and was very helpful with house chores. It was May, and the unrelenting summer heat continued to linger.

Growing up in a middle-class family, I was taught the value of saving money, a trait shared by many Indian women. Despite having an air conditioner, I hesitated to use it, fearing the inevitable spike in electricity bills. Imran teased me for this, calling me “cheap” and expressing annoyance at my frugality.

My cautious approach to spending paid off when I managed to save up a considerable amount from our daily expenses. This allowed me to contribute significantly towards our vacation fund, much to Imran’s delight. Seeing the big smile on his face made all my penny-pinching efforts worthwhile.

On the 2nd of June, my due date arrived, and Arjun accompanied me to the hospital. On having no signs of labour, the doctor decided to induce labour with an injection. Within a couple of hours, the cramps started hitting me in waves. Soon after, I delivered a perfectly healthy son.

Throughout the process, Arjun was by my side, running around the hospital like a puppy between the pharmacy and the ward. He sat next to me, cursing the doctors for not writing the prescriptions in one go. He grumbled about having to go to the pharmacy from the 5th floor to the ground floor multiple times.

My mom wanted to come and stay with me. My parents were getting older, and my dad was a grumpy old man. No one apart from my mom could handle him. Imran took the initiative to arrange for a maid to support me for a couple of months.

This thoughtful gesture made adjusting to life with a newborn much more manageable. It allowed me to focus on taking care of our little one without any added stress. During Imran’s visit, I made an effort to keep the spark alive and gave him a hand job every night, and he seemed satisfied with that.

I once offered him to suck my tits as they were swollen and overflowing with milk. But Imran laughed and declined. He was a germaphobe, and he didn’t want our son to get infected, he said.

A couple of days before Imran returned to Dubai, I noticed him and Arjun giggling on a couch like little girls. They were watching something on their phones. I didn’t want to startle them, so I quietly sneaked behind them to see what they were watching.

To my surprise, it was cartoon porn. I smacked Arjun’s head and gave Imran a nasty look. Both of them didn’t think what they were doing was wrong and argued with me. I walked away smiling and they continued what they were doing.

Imran had left, and I have always been anal about paperwork. The hospital had directed us to a local municipal office to apply for the birth certificate. I wanted the documents printed out so I could send Arjun and initiate the process. The printer was in his room.

So, I opened his laptop to download the files from the cloud. As I opened Chrome, the page was filled with porn history and links to erotic literature. He was 21. I’m no one to judge him, so I did not pay much heed. I opened the download folder. There was a huge collection of pics and videos.

I was hoping that I’d find some pics to masturbate. I clicked on one, and to my surprise, it was my photo. I quickly started checking all the other pics and videos. The cheeky bastard had installed a spy camera in the bathroom and kitchen.

I went back to history to check what genre he was interested in. It was all Brother Sister Incest and threesomes with sister and brother-in-law. I noted the links as my heart started racing and sweat tickled down my forehead. My breast felt tight, and the milk overflowed, staining my maternity Tees.

I took the printouts and went to my room. I looked at the AC remote and said, “Fuck Saving money.” I turned the temperature to 16 degrees, hoping it would cool my blood and lust. I fed my little one with both my tits, and my shoulders started feeling a bit light.

I then fingered myself, thinking of Arjun for the first time. The idea of taboo was so overwhelming that I had a huge orgasm. I wondered if I had pissed myself. I then created a fake account and started following Arjun and his every comment on the stories he read.

I finally found his ID by clicking on his profile in the comment forum in the “about me” section. I kissed my baby and slept for a while in my wet mess. I woke up an hour later as I wanted to use the washroom. I remembered the spy cam, and a kinky thought crossed my mind.

I had an evil smile as I entered the washroom. I undressed and started massaging my boobs by standing in a position where the cam view was clear. I hummed a song as I shook my ass and played with my body. I then stood in front of the vanity mirror and squeezed my boobs.

I allowed a thin, fast stream of milk to create small splashes on the mirror. I then licked the milk from that mirror while fingering my asshole. There is no common sense when you are horny, don’t judge me on the hygiene now.

I returned to my room with a huge smile, wondering what Arjun’s reaction would be when he saw it.

Arjun came home by 4 pm. Judging by his calm attitude, I concluded that he had not seen the video yet and waited for night to arrive. That night, I focused all my energy on my ears to hear his moan and slowly walked towards his door to listen to him.

The music was on, so I returned and created a fake account to chat with him.

Me: Hiya! Priya here.

2 hours later, I kept checking my phone for his response.

Arjun: Hey! Sorry, Priya who?

Me: You don’t know me; I found your comments interesting on the ISS website and found your email from the comment forum.

Arjun: Oh, which story and what comment did you like?

Me: “The Devil in Me” series

Arjun: Yeah, I loved that one. Did you reply to me on one of those comments recently?

Me: Nope, I’m too shy to post anything on a public platform

Arjun: I understand.

Me: So, you like incest?

Arjun typing.

To be continued. Feedback- [email protected].