My Love For My Mom

I am Shashank a passionate man, literary and poetical. Of course it is about my relationship with my beautiful mom how it changed over the years. Well my mom is a beautiful busty lady with voluptuous bottoms that no man would ever miss a chance of watching her from behind as much as he does from the front. I loved her as loving son and nothing else. Whereas I developed the fetish for women’s clothes. And the only woman at home was my mom. I held her sarees, petticoats, bras and all close to my body to get the arousal. They were like the bodies of the women for me, I always felt I had been hugging a woman whenever I held mom’s saree or a bra. Those days I was growing to become an adult from the boy I was.

But soon I started getting the images of my own mom whenever I held her cloth. However much I tried to brush aside the thoughts of her ample breasts dangling between her saree pallu, just as casually as she left them visible at home, would come into my my mind. I always debated about the righteousness of this act and it was always fifty fifty. The growing man in me convinced saying, ‘Just use it for your fantasies, that’s okay’.

Over a period of time I masturbated holding mom’s clothes imagining her own body. It didn’t stop there, I started stealing glances at my mom to save for my masturbation sessions. I have seen enough of mom.

Earlier when I was much younger mom used to call me for help at various positions. Since I have no sisters, sometimes she would even call me to scrub and wash her back when she stood completely naked in the bathroom. Some other times she would call me from inside the bathroom asking me to get her a saree and a petticoat whichever I found in her wardrobe. I ask if she needed anything else (like blouse or bra) whereas she would say, ‘no blouse and bra I’ll pick up when I get to the bedroom, it’s okay except for you there’s no one around’.

Some nights she would ask me to scratch her back. Oh, the strap of the bra was a bit embarrassing, just when I’d managing to do despite that mom would open it and ask me to feel free. I did that with a great sense of love and respect for my mom and nothing else.

All these visuals became the subjects of my fantasies as a grew by.

Now at eighteen mom would call me only to get her clothes to the bathroom, she won’t call me to scrub her back anymore.

But now I desperately miss it. Anyhow secretively I have become a great lover of my mom. I don’t miss a single chance to look at her and consume her beauty. Of course she was the most beautiful woman I have ever seen in my life. The girls of my age are no where in front of her beauty. She is fair, short at 5’3″, very shapely, has got a large belly button which is always visible as her petticoat can fit only below her beautiful navel. Of course more than a foot of her tommy is visible between her blouse above and the saree below despite her pallu which becomes bundled into a rope most of the times at home. It’s difficult to contain the whole of her breasts into the blouse cups, hence about one third of the upper breasts will show her milk cova like complexion, leaving a deep cleavage. To top it all she has a beautiful smiley face always with a kumkum of a size of a twenty paise coin. Her neck and chinline are the sexiest parts I believe.

I think mom is getting conscious of my presence now a days, however only occasionally she covers her bust with the pallu fully. See it after a while during her household chore it’s back to normal again showing her assets.

It was just me and my mom most of the day as dad goes to the office and returns only around nine in the night. I finish my college by 12pm and return home.

One afternoon when mom had been lying down on her bed for the afternoon nap I saw a small magazine kind of a thing which was bound with a newspaper. I was curious, ‘Why a magazine had been bound?’

When I asked mom she scolded me to mind my own business. Mom never scolded me so scornfully. My curiosity became more. I waited for the opportunity to check it out what the book was about. Next morning when mom had gone out for vegetables I streaked into mom’s bedroom and rummaged to find a few similar books bound with newspaper. Oh, my suspicion was right they were porn literature with beautiful pics of men and women.

Soon my mom became a sexual object, I masturbated and came within no time.

From then on every time I was alone I stole the magazines from mom’s wardrobe and masturbated thinking of mom. I am sure they were brought by my dad. thinking my mom being fucked be dad was so exciting. i imagine mom in most vulnerable state crying and moaning which gives me big shot to my penus.

To be continued…

Please share your opinion on my experience.

[email protected]