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Preetha’s eyes went heavy as she was leafing through the pages of the newly arrived magazine. It is happening to her often these days -- a side effect of having too many valiums for sleep. She can’t sleep at night, and throughout the day, a spell of gloom and drowsiness hangs heavy over her like a shroud. Her cell phone was buzzing with vibration on the table beside the bed; it must have been Sayani from her office. She has been calling so many times; don’t they realize she won’t be going back to work? Preetha was thinking about sending the resignation letter to the H.R, but such ennui afflicted her that she didn’t even feel like sitting in front of the computer and typing it out. It has been weeks since she last checked her Facebook and Twitter accounts, something which she couldn’t live without before. No whatsapp, no messages, no gmail, no calls; she is living in the massive 3 BHK apartment in Golf Green (a posh residential locality in the metropolis of Kolkata in India) like a marooned sailor. Her only connection with the outside world was the maid who comes every other day to clean up and cook for her. She doesn’t even feel like making food for herself. If the maid doesn’t come, she orders lunch or dinner from the nearby restaurants who deliver at home.
A sudden gust of cool wind brushed on her bare feet, entered the lower part of her saree like a mischievous lover and blew the pallu (part of the saree cloth which covers the breasts) baring her blouse-covered chest. She climbed out of the bed and arranging her saree, headed outside towards the balcony. A storm was billowing. The lines of trees across the road were shaking their shaggy heads like they were epilepsy inflicted. It was Kalbaishakhi, a storm accompanied by thunder squall that occurs a few times every year during or slightly before the Bengali month of Baishakh (early April) in Bangladesh and West Bengal, following the hot and humid Choitra month, erasing an old year and symbolizing the washing away of the grime of the past. The owner of the tea stall across the road was struggling with the shutter of his shop to close it against the violent gusts. People were running helter-skelter to find cover from the impending storm and torrential rains.
The darkness in Preetha’s heart was reflected, as it were, across the sky as dark clouds had covered it from horizon to horizon. Slivers of lightning were streaking through the inky blackness that blotted out the blazing sun of the afternoon. Another gust of violent wind blew away Preetha’s pallu as she caught it instinctively. The wind was like an invisible naughty lover trying to violate her modesty. As she covered her chest drawing back the slick strip of silk, she could notice two circular damp stains on her blouse. She could also feel a slight throbbing pain as well. The doctor had prescribed some pills to stop spontaneous effusion; Preetha had stopped taking them for quite some time. The pain was nothing compared to the pain of bereavement that numbed her heart and soul. This pain was a constant reminder of what she had been robbed off, what those monsters had done to her. The physical pain provided some balance to the agony of her heart.
She could smell herself, the scent of her womanhood, the scent of her robbed motherhood, the scent of pent up milk in her breasts, now spilling out. She had been effusing for quite some time; she didn’t even realize. This is the reason Preetha doesn’t wear western clothes like T-Shirts, tops or salwar-kameez these days. These spontaneous effusions have become an issue of embarrassment for her. If she wears a saree, the pallu covers her blouse, the wet stains are hidden beneath the cloth. Sometimes, when she goes downstairs, she could see the neighborhood kids playing in the park and looking at them, Preetha could neither control her tears or her breast milk which threatened to ooze out of her eyes and breasts.
Preetha could not take that smell anymore. The first drops of rain had spotted the road on the ground like leopard print, and the musty smell of the wet earth and her leaking motherhood were strangely identical. The sky will quench the thirst of the earth; Preetha’s breasts were equally full to the brim, but she had no one thirsting for her. Her lap was empty as a desert.
She returned to the bedroom; she was hurting. Today it was worse; her breasts felt like they were going to explode. She pulled them out one by one from the captivity of her blouse and bra and saw a thick white stream rolling down her nipples. They weighed heavy in her hands, becoming heavier with the coagulating milk. Her eyes brimmed with tears looking at the elixir of life spilling out pointlessly, no little hungry mouth to clamp on them and swallow the sweetness filling a little belly, quenching the thirst. She will never have that eternal peace and satisfaction.
She stripped off her half-wet blouse and bra and bared herself in front of her dressing table. Before coming back from San Francisco, she had brought numerous expensive cosmetics and make-up kits in a hurry. Living in the U.S had made her snobbish against Indian products. After she returned, she rejoined her old office, a famous and influential news broadcasting company in Calcutta, and in media, the unsaid rule is that you have to look good. Though looking good was not dependant on cosmetics for Preetha. As she looked at herself in the mirror bare bodied, Preetha was startled ! Who is this she is looking at? There were dark circles under her large beautiful eyes, her face was drawn in and dry, a rubenesque heaviness had settled on her once slim and athletic figure. It was the heaviness of motherhood, and in some other time, it would have made her look more full and beautiful on her statuesque, tall 5’10” stature; but she was not a mother, she could not be a mother, she was not allowed to be a mother !
In her pre-pubescent years, kids of her age made fun of her due to her unnatural height, calling her pine tree, beanpole, white bamboo, etc. Like many other Bengali middle class parents, her folks were worried if she will ever gain a womanly figure and get married. When she was thirteen, even her dad had to look up to her while standing. Both her parents were of medium height, the genes of her gigantic grandfather skipped a generation and blessed her with it. While marching in sports day, she was always the last girl walking at the back of the line. However, she was quite athletic and sports were her life; she was the captain of the basketball team and continued playing till in college when she had to stop to avoid the greedy prying eyes of the boys.
She was always embarrassed due to her height. During Saraswati Puja (Festival of Goddess Saraswati, the ethnic Deity of Wisdom, which is celebrated in all Indian schools and considered as a regional Valentine’s day among students because all girls wear saree on that occasion, making them look beautiful and lady like, and boys also dress up in ethnic dress of kurta/pajama or dhoti), all other girls roamed around in their respective boyfriend’s arms while she was considered freakishly tall and gawky for male taste.
But, as she crossed fifteen, suddenly the chrysalis turned into a full-fledged butterfly. The geometric angles of her body were transformed into fleshy roundness of femininity. Suddenly her inners were not fitting her anymore and soft, dense crops of hair sprouted in nooks and crannies of her body. Like a tide breaking a dam, feminine hormones flooded her body turning her girlhood into robust womanhood.
The boys who mocked her were now running after her like dogs in heat, savouring her uncontrollable fullness. Preetha never paid any attention towards them; from school to college, she guarded the immeasurable wealth her body was gifted with. She was saving it up for the man of her dreams.
She finished her college in journalism and joined a major media house as an intern. Due to the exposure, she was getting many acting and modeling offers. She did a few ramp shows and print ads. A famous fashion designer was even planning to launch her in a Delhi Fashion Week to be the ramp partner of the showstopper, and it was none other than Abhishek Bachhan, son of Amitabh Bachhan himself. She was picked because of her startling height and soft Indian beauty. It was a massive opportunity and Preetha was very happy that day, bubbling with energy and eager to share the news with her parents, but that evening something happened which changed her life forever.
When she returned home, her mother asked her to quickly get ready and wear a saree. A family was coming to see her for her arranged marriage with their son. Preetha exploded with anger. Now to explain the arranged marriage custom in India : the marriage process usually begins with a realization in the family that a child is old enough to marry. For a girl, it is during her graduation or early twenties and for a boy, it is after he is 'settled' with a decent job and consistent earnings. The initiation can occur when a parent or a relative (such as an aunt or an elder sister or sister-in-law) initiates a conversation on the topic, or the son/daughter approaches the parent/relative and expresses the desire to be married. This person effectively acts as a sponsor, taking responsibility to get the boy/girl married to a good partner. If the families are enthusiastic about a potential match, it is customary for the prospective groom's family to visit the prospective bride's family. In this event, it is traditional for the boy's family to arrive (with the boy) and be seated with the entire girl's family except the girl herself who then makes a dramatic entrance dressed in fine clothes, often bringing tea and refreshments with herself. This practice is sometimes called "seeing the girl”. This custom has been attacked by feminists as a classic instance of gender bias and the objectification of modern-day girls which, to great degree, is true. During this visit, the boy and girl are often encouraged to meet and talk by themselves in a separate room. The families usually part after this initial meeting without any commitment made by either side, with the expectation that they will confer separately and send word through the matchmaker should they be interested in pursuing the matter further. These meetings are understood to be non-exclusive, that is, both the boy and girl are expected to similarly meet with multiple other potential partners at this stage.
Preetha, being an educated modern young woman, felt insulted by this custom and she realized her parents were matchmaking her secretly, and now suddenly out of the blue the groom’s family has arrived. She refused to meet them initially, but her mother beseeched and emotionally blackmailed her. She kept on saying they’re from the rich and reputed Mullick family in Calcutta and the boy is working in the US which is like a holy grail to every middle class Indian parent. Preetha found such mentality typically crass and undignified, but decided not to drag this further. She would meet them and would take the cell number of the potential groom and call him personally afterwards to tell him she was just not interested.
The Groom’s family arrived soon. From their expensive and traditional clothes, looks and etiquette, it was evident they were from a rich family with plenty of money. The parents took their seat as they apologized for the delay in arrival of their son; they said he was right outside in his car, attending a skype call from her company in US. Preetha quickly glanced from the window; in front of their narrow alley a large black Mercedes was parked. Someone was inside the car, but she couldn’t see clearly. She immediately thought of them as big show-offs.
After half an hour, Ayan Mullick, the groom entered; a tall, well built young man in his early thirties, he was exceptionally handsome, to the point of being beautiful, with glowing fair skin and long curly hair. He was soft and amicable and spoke respectfully. Preetha’s agitation was soothing away the more she saw the man. The initial meeting was brief and jovial, and they bid goodbye after evening snacks and tea. Before he left, Ayan exchanged numbers with Preetha.
Later in the night, somewhat out of her stubbornness, Preetha called Ayan to call off the engagement, but when Ayan in his American accent replied ‘Hi Preetha, how are you doing?’ she felt a weakness in her knees. Finally, when she said she had something to talk to him, Ayan invited her for a lunch next day. After Preetha spent three hours with Ayan at Flotel, an expensive floating restaurant on the river, she completely changed her opinion about him. He was such a gentleman, so modest and well spoken, with a plethora of knowledge and experience. When she came back home, she responded to her mother’s anxious glances with a faint smile and a nod. The whole household started celebrating.
Within a couple of months, Preetha got married to Ayan and set off to the U.S.A. The first five years of their marriage was the best years in Preetha’s life. Ayan had provided the best for her, both with his commitment and wealth. Though they stayed in San Francisco and there is no dearth of beautiful women around, Ayan never made Preetha feel neglected. It was evident that though westerners and Latinas are beautiful, they cannot hold a candle in front of a truly beautiful and modern Indian woman. Preetha, on her side, never gave Ayan any chance to complain about; she covered themselves in a cocoon of love and physical pleasure. She had shed off the typical Indian shyness and came across as a bold independent woman very sure of her sexuality. For 25 long years, Preetha had saved herself for her dream man and she had finally found him and the tide of her sexuality flooded both their lives. Sex became a paramount and integral part of their being. If they were not eating, going out or watching TV, they were mostly engrossed in sexual adventures exploring every inch of their bodies.
Sometimes Ayan used to express before of her, ‘Preetha, your needs are so intense, your sexuality is so profound, will you ever be satisfied by just me?’ She used to chuckle and say ‘So what, if you alone are not enough, I will make clones of you; genetic science is advancing towards that day’.
Finally when she was 30, Preetha asked of Ayan for a child, and being a strong, robust and fertile woman, it didn’t take long for her to get pregnant. It was a period of immense joy and excitement for her. Around 2 months hence, Ayan took Preetha to the doctor for her check up. The physician was a hefty jolly woman named Dr. Margaret Jones who took them to the ultrasonography room. When she saw the abstract shape on the monitor, Dr. Jones smiled sweetly and declared ‘Congratulations Mr and Mrs Malikh, you are going to be the parents of a beautiful baby girl.’ Preetha could not contain her happiness at that moment and jumped on Ayan that instant, hugging him and kissing him deeply. With a choked voice she said, ‘Thank you Baby…’ Ayan, being a little embarrassed wiped his mouth off the fresh warm wetness she left behind and smiled, but did his smile look a bit dry and fake at that moment? Preetha didn’t realize; she was already in the seventh heaven with the happiness of her upcoming motherhood.
After the doctor’s assessment, Ayan suddenly started making arrangements for her to travel back to India. His plan was correct and logical; in the U.S, she won’t get proper care and pampering which is required for the upcoming birth, and he wanted his parents and hers as well to see their grandchild as she would be born. Ayan was in a busy schedule in his office and couldn’t give proper time to his wife and hence he decided to drop her off in India and return to the USA. It was planned that on a closer date to the child birth, he would take a sabbatical for a few months and travel back to India to spend some time with everybody and bring back Preetha and the child to the USA.
Within a couple of weeks, Ayan and Preetha returned to Calcutta and they put up in Ayan’s ancestral home in Bagbazar, at the middle of the city. It was a massive old house, mostly empty as most of the members were either out of Calcutta or out of the country. Preetha’s in-laws gave them a warm welcome and the next few days were spent in celebrations. A week later, Ayan returned to the US and after a couple of days of being upset and crying, Preetha started her normal life again. She decided to join her old office once again, as it was so close to her place, and she was getting bored in the house. Though her in-laws were against it, Preetha was stubborn about this decision and she was fortunate enough as some of her old colleagues had achieved high ranks in the organization by then and they were happy to welcome her back as a part-time employee until her delivery date was near.
Meanwhile, Preetha’s mother-in-law took her to a famous gynecologist of Calcutta Dr. Kunal Burman who was a close friend of Ayan in school. At the first glance, he seemed a mild mannered soft spoken gentleman who checked all of Preetha’s reports and asked her to do a few tests. When the results came in, he inspected them thoroughly and told her there was some problem in her fallopian tube, but it was not major and can be taken care of with a mild medication, but he might need to perform an endoscopy to clear out the tube for a healthy child birth. Preetha was around 4 months pregnant that time, her belly had a slight beautiful swell and her skin was glowing. She could feel the little life within her calling to her. When the doctor told her about endoscopy, she felt a bit concerned but Dr. Burman assured her that it was routine checkup; she just need to be in his personal nursing home for half a day. Preetha agreed reluctantly while being assured by her in-laws and Ayan via phone.
Meanwhile, Preetha’s parents visited them in Bagbazar; they were concerned about their daughter. Her father had been transferred to Durgapur; so it was quite a long way back to Calcutta. When Preetha’s father came to know about Dr. Burman and his advice for an endoscopy, he suggested Preetha for a second opinion, but their discussion was interrupted by Preetha’s father-in-law. He spoke to her father and insisted to take her parents out that evening to Calcutta Club, a posh family club in Calcutta, for drinks and dinner. The very next day, her parents left for Durgapur. As they were leaving, her father blessed her and wished her to be well, but there was an unexplained hidden sadness in his smile which didn’t go unnoticed. Her mother didn’t even see her eye to eye.
Next week, Preetha was admitted to the hospital. She couldn’t remember anything after the anesthesia mask was put on her face; only Dr. Burman’s calm and assuring smile.
When she woke up, she could feel herself on the bed – an IV line attached to her wrist, a splitting headache and a numbness all over her body. She suddenly felt there was something wrong, she was not feeling complete. When she looked down craning her stiff neck painfully, she saw that the sweet bulge in her belly was gone ! She tried to get up, but a sharp pang of pain in her stomach made her collapse back on the bed. The nurse rushed at her, ‘Ma’am, there was a crisis, the fetus in your stomach had turned upside down and it could have threatened your life. The doctor took the quick decision and aborted it; now you are safe!’ She quickly pushed an injection in her saline tube and her eyes became heavy with sleep again. She groaned like a dying animal, ‘Life threatening? What is the point of her living anymore?’
The gist of the rest of the incidents is very short. It didn’t take long for Preetha to understand what had happened. A developing country like India is plagued with the scourge of female foeticide, the act of killing a female foetus outside the legal channels of abortion. It occurs in India for assumed cultural reasons that span centuries. For thousands of years, owing to a strange mindset, parents in this sub-continent have often exterminated baby girls by poisoning, strangling, or burying them alive. The life of a woman in India, particularly in rural areas, has been often marked by such disrespect that some feel it is better for the family, and even for the baby girl, that she not be born ! Perhaps the greatest malicious factor contributing to this unfortunate practice is the heinous system of dowries. Moreover, often male child is considered a direct heir of the family blood and a status symbol which had been the case with the wealthy Mullicks -- the first born must always be a boy child. In India, especially in metropolitan cities, there are strict laws against sex determination before birth; but in US, that is not the case and when Preetha was detected with a girl child, it was a shock for Ayan and his family, and they secretly planned to remove it clandestinely. Perhaps they even threatened Preetha’s parents not to expose their motive when they visited her !
They had set it up so craftily that Preetha could not even suspect that such a vile conspiracy was going behind her back to kill her unborn child. She could never imagine that such cultured, educated and family could stoop down to such low levels for assuring a male heir for the family.
After coming back from the hospital, Preetha kept her calm; she didn’t speak much, but called both her in-laws and asked for the keys of their 3BHK apartment in Golf Green. She made it very clear to them that she didn’t want to stay with them neither she wanted to go back to US; for her, this marriage was practically over. She wanted the flat for herself and prohibited them to set foot in the premises. She coldly threatened them that she had once worked in one of the most reputed media houses in the city and if she wanted, she could easily expose them. Foeticide is punishable by the strictest laws in Indian penal code and this scandal would destroy the reputation of the Mullicks forever, even if they try to save their faces with their wealth and social connections. She didn’t want any trouble, just the keys to the apartment in Golf Green. With a shaky hand, Preetha’s father-in-law handed her the keys.
She could have shifted to Durgapur where her parents lived, but their cowardice made her despise them from the core of her heart; they could have saved her child from these monsters, but they were too afraid of the influential Mullicks. Preetha’s mother begged of her to allow her to come over to Golf Green to the new flat and stay with her, but she never responded; she stopped taking her parent’s calls as well.
However, as soon as Preetha shifted to the Golf Green apartment, she saw around five lakh rupees (around 7500 USD) suddenly transferred to her account from Ayan’s overseas account. And in the consecutive month, there was another transfer of 2 lakhs as well which means a lot of money in India. Preetha thought that perhaps her husband was afraid of blackmail, or trying to bribe her or just trying to bury his crime under money. In the beginning, Preetha thought she would never touch the money. Then she reasoned, why would she torture herself for the evils of her husband and in-laws? She started lavishly spending the money on herself, buying everything she wanted -- except peace and happiness.
In the beginning, she kept herself drugged with Valium and Alzolum sleeping pills, but how much could she sleep ! In her disturbed and fervid subconscious mind, she could see the fake evil smiles of her husband and in-laws. She was not a regular smoker, used to smoke occasionally, and had quit after she conceived; but now, she started smoking regularly. Nothing less than one and a half pack a day; besides that, she also bought a few bottles of Smirnoff. Alcohol still didn’t suit her much; after a couple of drinks, she started losing her good senses. However, Preetha was indignant that she would self-destroy herself in that large, vacant and luxurious flat owned by her in-laws. Somehow, by slowly killing herself, she was actually making them win, but her heart was too dark with depression to realize that ! She was in a constant state of ennui.
Today, she picked up the half-empty pack of India Kings Blue from the dressing table and lit one. Dragging in the sweet smelling expensive tobacco, she felt her head going a bit dizzy. With the slow trail of smoke blowing out from her mouth and nostrils, she looked at her nude body in the mirror as she sat before her dressing table. She had given this all to Ayan -- she could not believe it ! After her adolescence, Preetha always took special pride in her beauty, sometimes to the point of being vain, and why not ? The way she stood apart from the crowd always made her feel special.
Her powerful swan neck stood proudly over her wide robust shoulders, topped by a beautiful perfect oval shaped face adorned with a pair of large dark doe eyes, a sharp flute-like nose bridging the gap between them. Below her haughty nose, a pair of rose petal-like juicy lips swelled, and at the right corner of her lower lip, a tiny yet prominent black mole accentuated the beauty and sensuousness of her curvaceous mouth. Like the dark clouds of the sky outside, a massive deluge of thick black hair cascaded down her smooth broad back. A couple of smooth, thick, shapely, robust arms came down from her expansive shoulders which, though feminine in look, held the promise of exceptional strength due to her athletic background. Subconsciously, Preetha piled up her thick flowing tresses atop her head with her hands and realized how negligent she had been about herself recently. She was so conscious about herself that she waxed and bleached her armpits every weekend in expensive salons, keeping them buttery smooth, but now, like unkempt weed in a garden, a lush dense shock of hair covered her oxters. Ayan had always found body hair on a woman yucky and that’s why she always took special care to clean herself regularly; but Ayan was not there anymore nor there was any other man to judge her -- she was in her full natural self. Her armpits were giving off a faint pungent smell of her body -- it was her natural pheromone; she had not used deodorants or perfumes for quite some time as she didn’t feel the need to go outside these days. Just Below her armpits, it looked like her upper body was inflated up by the massiveness of her breasts. In her pre-pubescent years, Preetha always suffered from the inferiority complex of her having flat breasts; but after 13, when she started growing up, it seemed she would never stop growing there. It was because of the uncontrollable growth of her breasts that she gave up basketball; it was becoming too embarrassing. Now in the full ripe age of 31, Preetha’s breasts had bulged beyond belief, with the ripeness of her full matured youth and the milk that was trapped in them. At this point, she was a full 38F; her nipples were bloated and moist with seeping milk. The doctor had given her a breast pump but she never used it; she knew there is a chance of breast cancer if milk is not pumped out regularly, but Preetha didn’t care ! This pain reminded her of her loss every day; this was the only connection left with her unborn child. Preetha was not liking the way she looked in the mirror; once she took pride in her nakedness, but she was not in that mental state anymore. She fished inside her wardrobe and picked out another blouse which matched her saree. She dropped her moist blouse and bra in the washing machine and wore the new blouse skipping the bra. She got this blouse tailored after her marriage, but never wore it. It had a dangerously drooping neckline, and when she wore it in US for the first time, Ayan had frowned. ‘Why are you wearing such a low-cut blouse? You are so heavy up there already, do you see the amount of cleavage it is showing?’ Ayan had spurted. Preetha protested, ‘Why, you go on ogling the white girls on the beach wearing two-piece bikinis and you have a problem with my low-neck blouse? I am wearing it with a saree and my chest will be covered up by the pallu.’ ‘That’s even more dangerous, you never know when the pallu would drop, and men’s hungry eyes will feast upon your breasts.’ Preetha chuckled and dismissed this as his possessiveness, never realizing the typical patriarchal mentality behind this. However, she didn’t care anymore. She wore the blouse but had to struggle, she had grown bigger after it was made; the blouse’s thin material barely contained her massive mammaries, she didn’t have to wear a bra as they were so tightly fitted. Half of her breasts were bulging out of the neckline like boiling milk heaving out of a pan, about to be spilled. At this moment, any man would have gone mad with lust looking at her, but she couldn’t think of any man -- she was starting to hate all men ! The very idea of men nauseated her.
She pulled out the bottle of vodka from the freezer and poured a large drink for herself, diluting it with lemonade. By that time, it had started raining heavily outside. A quick gulp and the liquid burned down her throat. The second sip was easier and it started soothing her nerves a little, giving warmth in her belly. She was feeling hungry – the vodka had its effect. Preetha called up the local restaurant on her mobile. They said that delivery would be delayed, as it was raining heavily. The rain outside pitter-pattering on the widows, the heat of vodka in her veins, Preetha was yearning for something; her heart was heavy, but her body yearned with hunger and it was not just the hunger in her belly. She could remember Ayan’s thick seven inch penis, strange she was almost forgetting Ayan’s face, but she could remember every detail of his penis, the circumcised swollen head, thick veins crisscrossing the entire shaft and the dense spurt of semen. Her hatred for Ayan remained the same, though her body was pleading for his male genital.
Preetha could have easily invited any man from her social and work circle, there were so many of them slavering for her, but the very idea of sharing the bed with another man who would eventually cheat or hurt her was completely unacceptable. She had never masturbated in her life, but standing by the balcony, sipping on the vodka with cold fine sprays of rain wetting her face and arms, was sapping her off her self-control. She instinctually pulled up her saree and caressed her panty covered vagina, shocked to realize that her panties were sopping wet; the clear semi-sticky juices had made the expensive lace slimy and slick. Like the road which was now glistening under the rain water, her vagina was already coated with her body fluids. She tried to pull her mind away from such arousal and decided to have a bath.
As she finished the drink with another gulp and poured herself one more, something snapped inside her. She sat on the bed with her mobile, scrolling through the numbers of her male acquaintances. Should she call Suman Bhaduri, her immediate boss, who always looked at her with thirsty eyes? Or Yasin Hossain, the new young reporter with whom she had sprouted a friendship, he always stealing glances at her body, mesmerized by her physical wealth, but too shy to say anything, or Shankar, her old college friend with whom she used to play basketball; he kept touch with her on facebook, time and again sending double meaning messages. She was feeling really desperate, her body was on fire and she needed someone. But was it right? Should she give in to her desires and get involved with a man again? Confusion and yearning clouded her heart as her finger scrolled down the list of numbers. Preetha hung up and threw the phone on the bed and crashed herself.
Her body was on fire, she felt restless. Her hands travelled all over her body, her face, her neck and then squeezing her breasts. Preetha couldn’t take it anymore and moaned loudly. Her huge milk loaded breasts felt like they would burst. ‘Oh God…why are you doing this to me? Why can’t I control my body anymore?’ She groaned. She lifted up her saree, rubbing her thighs, her stench filled the closed air conditioned room immediately. ‘Ahhh…I am so disgusting…’ Preetha cried out, but she was out of control now, her fingers trailed up her things and just as she was about to touch her sopping wet panties, she herad a scream. Preetha was startled, she got up and heard a noise of commotion downstairs. There was more screaming.
Preetha quickly went to the balcony and leaned over trying to see what was going on downstairs and what she saw startled her. Just in front of the gate, the watchman was brutally beating up a street urchin with a cane. The boy was screaming and begging for mercy, but the roguish watchman was relentless.
‘Hey, what are you doing? Why are you thrashing the kid?’ Preetha shouted from the balcony, but the watchman did not pay any heed to her; he went on caning the boy ruthlessly. Perhaps he could not hear her from a distance. Suddenly something snapped in Preetha and she rushed out of her apartment, she pushed the button of the elevator and was panting heavily with rage and anxiety, ‘….. that bastard will kill the boy!’
As soon as the lift doors opened in the parking lot, she rushed out. The kid was now writhing on the wet floor and the watchman was caning him on his bare legs. Preetha screamed ‘Stop, stop it at once I say…what the hell is going on?’ The watchman stopped and turned, the boy crawled out of his reach and huddled himself in a corner, shivering from pain and shock. ‘This little bastard sneaked into our premises to steal Ma’am’, the watchman hoarsely said. ‘Yesterday someone stole the tail light of Mr. Sen’s car. You cannot teach these little fuckers a lesson without a beating’, he spurted out in an obscene way.
‘No Ma’am, believe me…’ the shaken boy squealed from the corner in panic. ‘I was just standing under the shade of the parking lot to avoid the rain and suddenly this guy rushed on me and started thrashing; I didn’t do anything, please believe me…’
‘Shut up, you little piece of snot’, the watchman snapped back and spat at him ‘Bloody thieves…they…’
The watchman could not finish his sentence as a powerful slap suddenly smacked on his face ….. Preetha had slapped him so hard that he lost his footing and fell on the ground, stunned by the sheer force of her slap. The watchman was a short, scrawny guy from Bihar -- one slap from Preetha’s powerful hand had shown him the stars. Preetha was trembling with rage as the watchman looked up at her with abject fear in his eyes; with her large beautiful stature towering above him, she looked like goddess Durga (a female warrior deity venerated and worshipped in the Indian sub-continent, especially by Bengalis), ready to slay the Asura demon. Her huge kohl-lined eyes were raining fire; her beautiful mouth was set in a straight line of anger. ‘Ma’am, believe me…’ the watchman muttered meekly; he was cut off midway by Preetha ‘Shut up .… or I shall pummel you with my slippers’, she roared.
The kid, on the other hand, was also trembling looking at her wrathful stature. Preetha rushed at him and pulled him up by his arm, dragging him towards the elevator. The boy was constantly pleading, ‘Please let me go Ma’am, I promise I haven’t done anything; I swear on my mother’s soul.’ Preetha paid no heed and almost threw the boy inside the elevator, then stepping inside herself. The boy was huddled in a corner, fully drenched. Preetha was breathing heavily from her sudden outburst, her mind clouded by blind rage. She, too, was soaking wet. Finally, she looked at the boy who was looking up at her with frightened eyes. She brushed away the lock of hair which fell across her forehead as she told him softly ‘Don’t worry; I am not going to hurt you.’ The boy didn’t look much assured having witnessed her outrage and her intimidating height and size.
As the elevator reached the fifth floor, Preetha got out, dragging the boy behind her. As she was unlocking her apartment door, she could see from the corner of her eyes that a few inquisitive heads have emerged from the adjoining apartments, noticing her. She ignored them, went in and called the boy inside. The boy entered her apartment on timid footsteps. As she closed the door, Preetha returned a glaring gaze at the people who were peeping from other apartments; the heads vanished in a flurry !
As she entered the apartment, Preetha slumped down heavily on the large sofa; her head was spinning, her ears felt like belching fire, her chest heaving with agitation. She had lost track of time. When, after a while, she became calm and came back to her senses and lit a fresh cigarette, she saw the boy was still sitting on the floor huddled near the door with his hands folded on the chest, stealing nervous glances at her. Preetha stared at the boy for a long time and then said in a calm voice ‘Why are you sitting over there? Come, sit here’, pointing to the single couch beside her sofa. The boy got up, walked up to the couch with timid steps and sat down hesitantly. Preetha observed the boy for a long time. The boy appeared to be in his early teens, short, frail, clearly suffering from lack of nutrition, and his hair in disarray. He was wearing an old torn T-shirt and even older dirty shorts. The boxer shorts must have been gathered from a garbage bin, rejected by someone, and did not carry any button or zip at the front. One can make out the faint outline of Che Guevara’s face on the front of his torn, faded T-shirt. His feet were naked. A typical street urchin one can come across at any busy intersection in Indian metropolis.
But, if someone observes him carefully, he can spot a difference. It is rare to find such a beautiful, poignant face in a street urchin. The boy must have been very fair at one point of time; but, now it looked bronzed, burnt by the scorching sun. Sun-bleached dense brown hair covered his head. However, what attracted the most were his long fine eyebrows and two large doe-like eyes. Preetha was deeply struck by the pain and despair they contained – the anguished eyes of a helpless doe about to be slain by a ruthless hunter. Below those eyes were a small pert nose and a pair of thin curvaceous lips. The boy had an angular face, his skin smooth and hairless.
As Preetha kept staring into the sad eyes of the boy, the fire in her heart gradually subsided and gave rise to a surge of compassion in her. There was a bruise on the forehead of the boy; blue welts were surfacing all over his body. She was stunned that someone can beat such a frail looking child so ruthlessly! Is the world so mercilessly cruel these days?! Indeed, she has experienced cruelty in her life herself; yet, looking at this boy, she was suddenly overcome with empathy.
‘What is your name ?’ she spoke softly.
‘S… Salim’ the boy uttered mildly through hesitation.
‘Where do you live ?’
The boy replied ‘I have no place to live. I work in a tea stall in Lake Gardens area …. They allow me to sleep over there’.
‘Th…they are no more Ma’am’
‘Where did you come from originally? Don’t you have any relatives?’
‘We belonged to a village called Nandigram. When I was too young, both my parents died in violence. We would have died too. Khurshid Uncle put me and my sister in a train bound for Kolkata. We landed here’.
Preetha felt a pang of shock inside her. She was aware of the terrible political violence that engulfed the area. ‘God …. So many children must have been lost everything!’
‘After arriving in the city, Raju Bhai took care of us.’ Said Salim. ‘He took us to a slum in the eastern part of the city. Me and my elder sister worked for him for some time. We used to beg near the highway traffic signal of Science City area. A couple of years went by. Then, one day I saw a few thugs whisked away my sister in a cab. Raju Bhai seemed ecstatic that night – offered me biriyani (a muslim dish). I could not eat though – I felt like throwing up’.
‘Then ?’ Preetha asked in a trembling voice.
‘It seems Raju Bhai did not dislike me … he didn’t thrash me too often. But, on some nights, after he was drunk, he forced me to sit on his lap and kissed me forcefully. It was disgusting, His breath was foul.’ Salim shivered at the memory.
‘Then, one day, Raju Bhai took me to Kalighat (a locality in Kolkata famous for prostitution) to offer prayers at the Kaali temple (The Kalighat temple is one of the most famous in Calcutta, it is strange how a temple and a red light area happen to co-exist). On our way back, there were girls lined up on the streets. I was not sure, but, for a fleeting second, it seemed I saw my sister standing amongst them. I was about to run to her, but Raju Bhai grabbed my hand and pulled me away. I called out to the girl, but she quickly turned away and walked off’.
Preetha felt nauseated as she listened.
‘On that day, Raju Bhai beat me up black and blue and locked me in a room. Then, when night came, he returned awfully drunk and …’
Preetha did not want to hear further. She interrupted by touching the boy’s hand.
‘It’s okay, you need not tell anymore.’ Said Preetha. ‘Did you see your sister ever after that?’ She asked with concern.
For a few moments, the boy looked at her with a blank expression. ‘Yeah….Nearly three months after that incident, my sister came back to the slum with two ruffians in toe. They sought out Raju Bhai and battered him mercilessly. I guess he died then and there. My sister took me away from the slum’.
Preetha sighed as she felt slightly relieved.
‘Why didn’t you stay with your sister then, instead of living in tea stall?’
The boy trembled faintly as he replied.
‘Sister took me by to a dingy place called Shovabazar (a locality in Kolkata) by the subway train. I enjoyed the ride very much with my sister.’ A glint of faded happiness appeared for a moment in Salim’s eyes. ‘Those two thugs also came with us. Sister told me that we could live peacefully from that day onwards. There is a place called Sonagachhi near Shovabazar with rows of houses lining the streets. Many girls live in there – my sister also lived in one of the houses. I was not allowed to sleep with her. I used to sleep in a garage at night and ran errands for my sister and other girls during day time’.
Preetha was feeling uneasy again as she listened to what he had to say.
‘Then ….. ?’ she asked, stubbing the cigarette butt into the ashtray after a last long puff.
‘To tell you the truth, I never liked it over there. Nasty people kept coming. Every evening, my sister used to stand in the passage, all dolled up; men arrived one after another and went up the staircase. My sister looked so beautiful in her make-up and dress. She used to giggle constantly, but I knew for certain that her smiles and laughs were fake, she was sad within. There was a dirty bastard of a man. He tried to force my sister to do disgusting things. One night, my sister tried to run away from him and as he tried to forcibly pull her inside, she slapped him. I was standing close; there was a flower vase lying nearby. I picked it up and smashed it on his head. He became furious and attacked me. He would have killed me that night had the landlady not intervened. The very next day, I was turned out by the landlady. My sister pleaded a lot on my behalf, but to no avail. She secretly gave me a 500 rupee bill (about 7 USD) before we parted. For days, I roamed from place to place and finally reached the tea stall across the road where I am now. You know, I have been saving my earnings so that I can visit my sister again’.
As Preetha listened to his tale, her heart ached from anguish; droplets of tear pooled in her eyes and rolled down her smooth cheeks. Her heart heaved from a turmoil inside just like the nature outside was lashed by gushes of wind and torrential rain.
Salim kept mum for a few minutes and then continued in an agonized voice ‘To speak the truth, maa’m, I did not enter here just for taking shelter from the rains. The shop I work for was closed for the last two days as the owner did not turn up. I didn’t have any food since last night. I was very hungry. Nemai, the homeless street looney, told me that there was a celebration in this apartment complex today. There would be a lot of waste food in the garbage bin. I snuck into the building in hope of scavenging some food, but the watchman spotted me before I could reach the backyard’.
Preetha could not bear any more. She got up from the sofa and called up the restaurant to place more orders. She was told that delivery would take time as it was still raining outside. Preetha felt annoyed this time and told them to send in the food at once; she would bear the extra charge, she said. The man replied with professional courtesy that they would try their level best. Preetha dropped the receiver and cursed the man under her breath. She started thinking what to offer the boy in the meantime. Her apartment was in disarray, nothing worthwhile in the fridge too.
‘You stay here … I’m coming in a second’, said she. She cursed the maid for not keeping any ready snacks in the kitchen. The fact is she never told the maid to keep some food in the kitchen – she was not bothered for such things anymore!
She spotted a jar on a rack with some cookies in it. Picking it up, she hurriedly returned to the living room. Handing the jar to Salim, she told ‘Help yourself…..I have ordered for food; it would take some time’. The boy froze and pleaded ‘No maa’m…..I am okay. I shall leave as soon as the rain stops. But, please see that I am not handed over to the police …..’
Preetha said ‘I dare whoever wants to do so …… take a few …… please ……’ as she took out a few cookies from the jar herself.
Salim was still not agreeing. Preetha placed the palm of her hand on his head and pleaded softly ‘Won’t you listen to me ? See …. I am just like your mother, isn’t it?’
A shiver went through Salim as soon as he heard this. He took the biscuits with a trembling hand. Preetha was observing the boy…..in spite of being famished; he started eating the biscuits slowly. He is really well mannered, Preetha thought.
She sat on the sofa, observing the boy as he was eating. She was feeling a deep compassion in her heart. The vodka was having its effect….there was a strange drowsiness inside. She felt drawn towards the boy; it was not plain compassion …. It was something else. She was under a spell, a web of myriad feelings.
Salim ate all the biscuits one by one and then asked ‘Maa’m, can I have some water please?’ Preetha broke out in a sob!
The boy looked at Preetha, dumbfounded. ‘Did I say anything wrong, maa’m ? No, please ….. don’t cry maa’m …… I…I’am going away.’ said he.
‘No!’ cried out Preetha. ‘Come…..come here’ Preetha called out to the boy with open arms. As Salim took one or two hesitant steps forward, Preetha grabbed his wrists and forcefully pulled him into her bosom. She started crying uncontrollably. She didn’t cry like this even when she lost her unborn child. The boy went stiff for some time; but then, he too was swayed by emotion and softly hugged Preetha’s body. He put his head on her chest and started shedding tears silently.
Gradually, Preetha’s sobs subsided and came to a stop. She was feeling a strange tranquility inside. It felt so good to hug the thin, frail body of the boy. She put a finger below his chin and gently lifted up his face. His eyes were half closed from the warmth of her comfort; his lips were trembling gently from overflowing emotion. Preetha kept looking at that sweet innocent face for a long time and then, as if unknown to herself, leaned and placed her soft, plump lips on his thin trembling ones for a warm, soft kiss. She hugged him tighter and started raining kisses on his checks, below his eyes, on his forehead. And then finally their lips locked with a hungry yearning. Preetha’s lips, and tongue invaded the boy’s small maw, tasting his mouth, drinking from it and in return filling him up with her warm saliva. Something had gotten into her. Her passion had become uncontrollable; otherwise this is certainly not the way she was going to kiss him, a little boy, young and small enough to be her son. As their mouths parted, there were strings of spit hanging between their lips. Preetha slurped in the gooey strands.
Salim, too, was overcome with unbridled emotions. His breathing became rapid. At long last, Preetha asked softly ‘I have put you on my lap and kissed you. I have been drinking and smoking. My breath is not fresh…did you feel bad about it ?’
Salim swallowed hard, looking at her with his big hazel eye; in a faint voice, he uttered ‘No ……Y…your breath is fine.’
This is a good example of graphomania. And the typical local "writers" parasitism on another's pictures.
What do you mean by parasitism? Do you mean the author stole images from other stories?
It's stated in multiple places that the writer and author actually worked together on this. At any rate, if you're not actually drawing or coloring or coding, or otherwise producing content for the wider community yourself, it's a bit disingenuous to go calling other people parasites. Especially if your main contribution to the board overall consists of haranguing people for not drawing what you want, when you want, and how you want.
That said, there were parts of this that could have been shortened, particularly the elements that were explaining specific Indian cultural concepts that made 1 appearance, and then never got mentioned again. I, personally, found them interesting, really interesting actually, but I know from past experience that a lot of people would prefer for their erofics to get right to the sex, or at least, right to the leadup to the sex.
In the end, it's really up to the author how they want to do things, but the general public does tend to prefer their sex yesterday. If nothing else, it would probably be good to try and condense certain cultural explanations to a few sentences, as opposed to a whole paragraph. You never know how much of this stuff actually is known to people.
Obviously, the art is great, and it mixes well with the story. The characters are very, very, fleshed out, and I feel like I know everything about them, and their environment, at this point. They're likable, and sympathetic, without becoming overly-idealized. They have flaws, but overall, they're good people. That's nice to see. The setting is uncommon, and it's very fleshed out, as well.
The overall storyline of 'wealthy and beautiful, but also lonely woman adopts street boy with heart of gold' is, honestly, old as hell, and really common, but it's also a good storyline. It works well in most stories, and it works well in this story. I'm interested in seeing how the story progresses, and that means that the author has done their job, and done it well. I really like this story, and I'm interested in seeing more.
Is this story ongoing? Was hoping to see some hardcore stuff
Preetha let out a deep sigh, lifted the boy from her lap and put him beside her on the sofa. ‘My ! How light he felt, as if he had no weight at all like a kitten!’
Myriad emotions were flooding Preetha’s mind. She felt a sudden pang of guilt for what she had just done. That kiss was not motherly at all, it was of a woman yearning of sexual gratification. She felt a sudden unease. Preetha dropped the pallu of her saree from her chest; a surprised half-cry escaped her lips as her eyes fell on her breasts. Milk was seeping out of her stiff nipples and drenched her blouse! This was on the other hand the primal yearning of a mother.
Preetha held Salim’s hand and spoke with a tear choked voice. ‘Salim, I am sorry,’ she said, ‘I acted inappropriately. It was not right of me to kiss you like that’. Salim looked at her with large confused eyes and said ‘It was possibly the first time I felt so good in years Ma’am. I felt safe and loved; your arms were so warm and soft around me as if nothing could hurt me anymore. I am not feeling anymore pain, as if the watchman had never beaten me at all. You healed me in that instant.’ He said. His words sounded so mature and full of earnestness, Preetha could not control herself anymore and held his head on his bosom as it heaved with her sobs. Preetha was crying again, and Salim was also shedding tears of sadness combined with happiness silently. They both kept crying for an unknown period of time, as if the world around them melted and flooded by their emotions. Nothing seemed to matter anymore, just a woman who has been scorned, cheated and robbed of her most precious belonging and a boy who had lost everything even before he started his life.
had lost everything even before he started his life.
Slowly their tears subsided. Preetha looked down deeply into Salim’s eyes, held his hand and placed it on her heavy, soft and warm bosom. ‘Swear to me…’ she said, ‘Swear that everything you said is true. I need you to swear because I am going to take a major decision in my life at this moment.’ She said with a trembling voice.
‘I…I swear Ma’am…I have no reason to tell any lies.’ Salim’s gaze was drawn to her breasts; his large hazel eyes seemed even larger as he kept staring at them, wide-eyed in surprise, the thin material of the blouse was sopping wet with her milk, which was also giving out a faint odor! Though his body did not grow in harmony with his age owing to continued lack of nutrition, but his male hormones were already active. He was visibly stunned to see the opulent assets of such a stunningly beautiful, fully grown-up woman from such closeness! He looked so utterly confused and nervous.
Looking at him, Preetha could realize, with her natural instinct, the whirlwind of emotions playing in the boys mind. Without paying any heed, she opened the hooks of her blouse with expert hands one by one. She literally picked up the boy with her strong hands and put him on her lap, almost forcibly.
‘Stop calling me Ma’am…I told you to call me Mom!’ she said with mock agitation. The boy froze, overcome by the turn of events. Preetha held out her left nipple in front of his mouth and said softly ‘Drink from me…..I know you are so hungry and I shall fulfill my long pent-up needs through you, sweety!’
Salim looked at her in wide-eyed wonder; he had no control over his emotions. Puckering his trembling lips, he caught the large nipple between them. An electric-like shock went through Preetha’s body which was responded by a large streak of lightening and a bolt of thunder outside in the dark wet sky. A half-audible gasp escaped Preetha’s mouth ‘Ahh ….. issshhhh …….’.
Salim started sucking gently; he was too overcome with emotions and went with the flow.
Preetha squealed ‘Suck hard ….. ahh, the pores are stuck …… suck harder, dear ……’
Salim closed his eyes and gave a strong pull with his lips, his thin cheeks caved in by the force of the suck. ‘Ufffff …..’ moaned Preetha. Afraid by her reaction, Salim tried to remove his lips from the nipple, but Preetha forcefully held his head immobile and, with her other hand, pushed her left boob forcefully into his mouth. She could feel that milk has started flowing freely from her breast.
Salim did not like the taste of breast milk initially, but, as he nursed on, he felt intoxicated. He continued sucking like a new born babe. A heavenly bliss and pure pleasure descended on Preetha; she slowly reclined on the sofa and put her head on the backrest. Her face was lit up by a heavenly smile …. a smile befitting a contended mother !
Preetha kept on caressing the boy’s head and back in an intimate motherly manner as he fed from her. ‘Oh God!’, she thought in her mind, ‘I never could imagine the pleasure of nursing a child….my womanhood reached fulfillment today!’. She could feel that her breast milk filling up the mouth of this poor urchin, going down his throat into his stomach, gratifying his hunger, ‘My God…..such gratification, so much pleasure, what bliss !
After some more time, Salim detached his mouth from her nipple and said ‘No more….I am full Ma’am!’. Preetha smiled sweetly and playfully striking his cheek, remarked mockingly ‘There is another one ! What will happen to that? And didn’t I tell you to call me mom or mommy?’
Salim gasped, ‘B…But….you are actually not my mother...how can I call you mom?!’.
Preetha said emphatically ‘I filled your belly with the milk of my body, which makes me your Mom. I am your mom so stop addressing me as an unknown lady. You shall henceforth address me with love, as a son should address his mom, okay?’.
Salim nodded his head in meek acceptance.
Preetha pulled his body a bit more downwards and pressed her other full breast on his mouth. She said mockingly ‘…. Now say, mom – give me milk!’.
With the weight of Preetha’s large breast pressing on his mouth, Salim could mutter ‘Mom…gib be bilk’ . Preetha laughed aloud in glee ‘Shit, you are so cute!’ she cried.
Salim started sucking again. Preetha felt the initial pang of pain in her other unused nipple; but in a while she was again flooded with bliss”. ‘Uffffff…keep sucking, dear…keep drinking, as much as you want!’ Preetha muttered with closed eyes.
After some time, Preetha opened her eyes. Suddenly, her gaze was drawn to the front of the boy’s shorts. She got startled! The boy was wearing a very old tattered boxer shorts, the fly was open in absence of buttons and…..oh ! The boy’s hard erect penis rose straight out of it and stood erect in the air! The penis was small in size …… may be five inches in length (which is normal; one cannot expect a larger penis in a boy such small size, Preetha mused internally), but it was rock hard! It looked a stick made up of pink frozen ice. Yes, the penis was pink in colour. Unlike other parts of his body, his genitals never came in direct contact with sunlight; so it retained its original color. Preetha mused internally, ‘God ! just imagine how fair was the boy !’.
Preetha thought to ignore the sight, but her gaze was constantly getting drawn towards it. ‘It may be small in size, but beautiful and perfectly shaped’, she thought. The pink foreskin was drawn back; the reddish tip and glans were clearly visible! The tip was already moist with pre-cum. The penis was drawing her attention like a magnet; she felt an irresistible urge to touch it! A turbulence stormed in her mind – a tussle of urge over hesitation. ‘Shame on me! I told him I am his mom….why should I have such an urge?, she reasoned within herself. Then, another thought flooded her mind. ‘Well, why his penis is standing hard and erect like this then? Can one have an erection with one’s mother?’.
The boy has undergone so much suffering in his small life; so much torture and neglect. A fabulous woman like Preetha has shown him such kindness, given him the privilege of her closeness, warmth and care. Well, he may feel aroused. Truly, Preetha is such a girl who can make any male hot any moment with her sexual appeal. And, then, the boy may be smallish in size, but his hormones must have become active! Preetha did not find anything wrong in Salim’s physical excitement, after all.
A torrent of thoughts went through her mind. ‘I compelled him to address me as mom, I myself fed him my breast milk, but, frankly, what is his direct biological relation with me?’ Preetha reasoned internally. ‘If a girl can give so much permissiveness and warmth to a young adult, how she can prevent his normal biological urge?’
‘Well, in that case, will it not be better if she also helps in releasing his sexual tension?’ she thought and, to face the truth, why only Salim is to blame? – doesn’t her own body and mind are asking for fulfillment? – not just as a mother, but also as a woman?
Preetha slowly reached out, caught hold of the boy’s erect penis in her soft hand and started to stroke it gently. The boy got startled, jerkily removed his mouth from Preetha’s nipple and looked down, milk oozing down the corner of his lips. Preetha pressed his head back to her boobs. ‘Be quiet, it’s okay. Keep sucking …… let me take care of you. You would love it in the end.’ Preetha purred.
Within five minutes, Salim jerkily removed his mouth from Preetha’s boobs and let out a long muffled cry ‘Ahhhh …… oh Mom!’ as squirts of semi-dense semen started spurting out of the red tip of his hard penis in large blobs. Being a boy, the semen was not very dense, but Preetha was surprised by its quantity. It must have filled half a cup, she thought. Rivulets of semen rolled down Preetha’s hand, oozed out of her fist and pooled onto his shorts.
Salim lay still for a long time on Preetha’s lap – fully spent. His small chest was trembling like a bird, his body being raked with strained breathing. His T-shirt was soaked in milk that oozed out of his mouth while his boxer shorts were wet with semen. Preetha reclined back on the couch, resting herself as the boy lied between her legs. She felt relaxed and dreamy.
When his breathing became normal again and he was in a position to speak, he asked Preetha in a dazed voice ‘What happened to me, mom…..did I piss in my pants? But, I had a strange feeling in my body – it never happens when I pee!’
Preetha giggled heartily, ‘Pee does not look like this either.’, she said as she brushed her semen-soaked fingers on Salim’s cheeks. His cheeks got smeared with semen as he winced back.
‘Ehhh ….. nasty ….. ishhhh’, Salim said as he sat up upright on the sofa and tried to rub his face dry with the hem of his T-shirt.
‘No use rubbing your face with it……your shirt, shorts have all become totally soiled. Take them off, I shall put them in the washing machine.’, Preetha said as she loosely draped her pallu over her bare chest.
Salim hesitantly said ‘What shall I wear if I take them off?’; he stood awkwardly before Preetha.
‘Nothing ……’ said a bemused Preetha as she forcibly stripped Salim off his shorts. Salim tried to prevent, but could Preetha’s strength as she stripped him naked giggling.
‘Let me turn on the water heater. Let us take a bath.’ said Preetha as she pulled out the T-shirt over Salim’s head.
Salim had started to shed his shyness slowly; he did not look very embarrassed now standing stark naked before Preetha wrapping his hands around his thin chest as a last sign of modesty.
‘My, how frail he is!’ Preetha mused in her mind. ‘If he stays with me, I shall fatten him up with my boob juice.’
There were blue welts all over his body. That ruthless watchman needs to be fired immediately, Preetha thought in her mind.
She strolled towards the washroom, holding Salim by hand. Her pallu came off and started loitering behind her. Entering the washroom, she first filled the bathtub with hot water. ‘If the boy sits in hot water for some time, his body ache may lessen a bit’ she thought.
Salim said ‘Wow ! you have this in your bathroom!’ as he pointed to Preetha’s bathtub. Preetha smiled and then started to take off her saree saying ‘I have many other things for you my darling.’ Salim was observing her, dumbfounded. He had seen quite a few pretty girls in his small life, particularly during his stay in the red light area of Sonagachi. He had never dreamt to come across a lady as wonderfully beautiful as Preetha – so tall, so curvaceous and so opulently healthy! Her pedigree, class and stature was way above those girls and it was evident in the way she spoke, moved or carried herself. As she shed off her clothes she didn’t look like a mere woman to him, she was like the large bare statue of Goddess Durga which the sculptors of Kumartuli created with their years of artistic skills before Durga Puja, the greatest and biggest festival of Bengalis.
After stripping off her saree and blouse, Preetha stood stark naked before Salim. Nobody except her husband Ayan ever had the fortune to see her threadbare like this. But the very remembrance of her husband’s name brought disgust in Preetha’s mind. Preetha stood before Salim and drew him close to her. He was lost in the warmth and fragrance of his newly found mother’s body, as if he was in a dream. The front mirror held their reflection. ‘What a puny boy…..standing, he head does not touch my boobs even! He can suck my breasts standing like this. I could be so much fun!’ Preetha smiled in her mind.
She took him to the bathtub, sitting in the slowly filling warm water first and leading him into it, placing him comfortably on her lap. They sat in the bathtub for a long time, Preetha holding Salim in her embrace. The headiness of the alcohol returned as she sat in the hot water, soaking in the warmth. The boy was reclined comfortably on her body, resting his head on her chest. Preetha’s heartbeats pulsed in his ears. His body got fully relaxed by the warmth of the water and Preetha’s warm embrace. ‘This is heaven!’ he thought drowsily.
Preetha whispered in his ear ‘Like it? Does the ache feel a bit less now?’
‘The pain is now gone, mom!’ he replied and started imparting tiny soft kisses on Preetha’s robust right forearm which was draped around his neck. Preetha felt a shiver down her body !
awesome job, what an amazing story line and style. thank you for coming back!
i apologize to ruin such beautiful story, could you add two sons and mother?
Ps: armpit hair licking please!
Hi Jo, I haven't created anything with two sons and mother but maybe sometime in future. Although the other thing you have asked for is definitely there and coming in the later parts of the story.
Thank you for your message, i always support you!
i hope to see that in future! i think i got a fetish for incest stories!
even i like mom,dad and son threesomes!
ofcourse with hairy armpit mom.lol
Cant wait to see more of this
Is there more to this? Hoping for some hardcore action
I search through this chan daily in the hopes of finding an update to this story. Please don't give up on it. I for one treasure this as a masterpiece, and I don't think the story needs any additional changes or requests, it's absolutely perfect as is.
OMG, I've been lurking here since the beginning, please dont abandon this project! Please continue....
fuck bengalis assamese is superior bengali is haram
some writing and artwork is left to complete so please have patience will post very soon.
that is nicely set up to be something to love
Salim now turned in the bathtub and sat facing Preetha. He stared wide-eyed at his savior. This divine damsel is no ordinary woman….she must be a deity. No ordinary woman can be so tall, so beautiful, so healthy and so strong – all at a time ! As she sat reclined in the bathtub, droplets of water were trickling down her wide rounded shoulders. Her opulent glorious breasts were half immersed in the water in the tub – they looked sublime as they heaved up down with the rhythm of her breathing. Her goddess-like face looked exquisite with the glow of bliss and slight intoxication from the vodka. The tiny black mole at the corner of her lip has rendered an irresistible charm to her curvaceous lips.
Preetha felt a bit uneasy at the way he stared at her with fascination. ‘Why are you looking at me like that?’ She asked softly. ‘I…’ fumbled Salim, ‘I have never seen anyone so beautiful like you Mommy…I still can’t believe if this is true or I am dreaming!’ There was such sincerity in his voice and eyes that Preetha’s heart melted further. She was not a stranger to compliments, men have complimented her in so many ways, but the way Salim said those words with the innocence and commitment of a child, it couldn’t ring any truer.
‘This is real my darling…’ Preetha said fondling his half wet hair and trailing her palm on his wet cheeks; ‘This is how our lives will be from now on. I am not going to let you go…ever. You will be with me, you will stay me with me, you will be mine and I am yours. We will live together till the end of times, I promise you that, I have taken my decision.’ She said.
Salim was looking at her unblinking as she said those words, looking at the movement of her mouth, her beautiful curvy lips forming those sweet words and the irresistible call of that mole which beckoned him.
Salim didn’t say a word and slid up his slight frame over her wet fleshy body, and tried to reach her lips. He was yearning for a kiss, but Preetha decided to teach the boy some self control and ceased his approach by firmly grabbing his back and arching her neck back so that he couldn’t reach her face.
‘What are you doing?’ She asked, Salim squirmed a little as her breath brushed his face, so close…yet so far, the smell of her mouth heightened his eagerness to taste it.
‘a kiss Mommy…a kiss….just one…please…’ Salim pleaded.
‘What have you done to deserve a kiss?’ Preetha replied giggling, to which Salim desperately said
‘What do I have to do Mommy…just tell me…what do I have to do to kiss you?’
‘Mmmm….let me think….’Preetha pondered in a bemused manner and then said mischievously,
‘let me see how strong you are, you have to lift one of my boobs with your mouth, you can’t use your hands, just your mouth, you will have to pull it up and hold it for five seconds.’ She said.
Salim looked at her for a couple of seconds and then smiled with the enthusiasm of a boy, accepting the challenge.
He clamped his mouth around the nipple of her left breast and sucked hard, his cheeks caving in and creating a vacuum, Preetha could feel her milk bud moistening with his saliva and her spurting milk.
‘SSS…Ahhh…mind your teeth…it hurts…’ she moaned, and Salim wrapped his lips over his teeth, wary of not causing her the slightest discomfort. He pulled and he pulled hard, lifting his head and with that her left breast as well. He was lifting more than three kilos of flesh with his mouth only; her breast was bigger than his head.
Preetha was amazed to see the boy’s commitment. She threw back her head and laughed heartily, as Salim lifted her breast and held it up with his mouth, her sweet laughter magic to his ears.
‘Haha haha…bass bass…okay, you have become an Olympic breast lifter.’ She laughed out.
‘Now let go, or you will hurt your jaws’ she said, and finally Salim released the boob from the clamp of his mouth with a popping sound, milk mixed with his saliva oozing out from Salim’s mouth and Preetha’s breast as the massive mammary plopped back with a wet fleshy sound. Preetha was appalled by the amount of milk she had leaked out in his mouth. She didn’t wait anymore to bestow his reward; she dragged him close to her and locked her lips on his tiny mouth. Their tongues explored each other’s oral cavities with desperate urgency, rolling over each other, brushing inner cheeks, teeth and palates; copious warm saliva mingling and threatening to overflow. When they finally released each other they were gasping for breath, their lips and chins smeared with their mixed drool. Both were feeling shy and couldn’t look at each other. With his gaze down and a cute smile on his wet lips Salim asked Preetha, ‘Can I sit on your lap for a while Mommy…I just want to cuddle with you…’ Preetha smiled and nodded without saying anything. She relaxed as his small hands brushed on her chest, marveling at the wet smoothness, at first with little hesitation and shyness but gradually becoming bolder with the moment. He cupped each breast with both his hands, amazed by the size and heaviness, he pressed them between his palms as milked oozed and trickled down from them mixing with the warm water. He splashed handfuls of water on her breast giggling and then squeezed the nipples, rubbing them with his thumb, pushing the erect bud deep in the soft mound of her boob flesh; he was veritably playing with them. It hurt a little but Preetha ignored the minor pain, reveling in the waves of pleasure spreading through her body. Preetha felt with this continuous breast stimulation she might reach orgasm even without any vaginal contact. She didn’t at that moment want to reach that point of losing control completely, over her mind, heart and body. She held Salim’s frail wrists and told him softly, ‘That’s it, enough, lets clean you up now’. Salim obeyed without a word.
Preetha poured a large amount of her expensive shampoo on his shaggy head, working up a thick lather as his eyes closed with the pleasure of her soft hands and long fingers trailing on his head. Her blissful touch was easing out all pain from his body, he never felt so much comfort in his entire life and it was like he had passed away and went to heaven. Preetha cleaned his long unruly hair with the hand shower, warm water cascading on his head and washing away years of dirt and grime, making him feel like a new person all over. As she was done washing his head he turned at her and requested to return the favor, Preetha felt a gushing love for this child. She told him she doesn’t want to wet her hair, but he can wash her body if he wanted.
Preetha poured a lot of liquid bubble soap in the water and showed Salim how to use the hand shower. Salim was overjoyed by it, and started playing with the hand shower, spraying water on her chest. The warm spray felt wonderful on her massive milk heavy mammaries. Preetha reclined back, relaxing as Salim washed her breasts with the shower, rubbing them and foaming up the water around. Salim picked up a soap bar from the stand and asked Preetha if he can wash her with it. Preetha knew she didn’t need anymore washing, but understood that he just wanted to feel her up and she indulged.
Salim went behind her as she leaned back on his body, resting as his hands rubbed the soap all over her breasts, shoulders, arms and neck. Her smooth soft olive skin glistened with the slick soap foam; Salim’s small hands were feeling wonderful on her body. She felt there was a certain inhibition playing inside the boy. He was curious like a cabin boy beholding the ocean for the first time, eager, yet awestruck by the vastness and depth. His hands were a bit unsure and shaky as they trailed on her warm wet skin. Preetha decided to make him a bit more familiar to the body of a woman. She raised her arm back and patted his shoulder. ‘Come, there’s a lot left of me to wash.’ She purred.
After that Preetha was washed with a shower of kisses all over her body. He started with her neck and wide shoulders, going down to her chest and those massive breasts, covering almost every square inch of them. Preetha reclined back and responded with soft sighs, gasps and moans. As he was on her belly, his small tongue fluttered in and around her navel, she winced and licked her lips; a soft moan escaped her mouth. In the beginning Salim was apprehensive as he thought he was causing Preetha discomfort but then it dawned upon him that those sounds were of pleasure, and it was a sweeter music to his ears than the voices of heaven. It encouraged him and he went further down her navel, and at that point Preetha clamped her vagina with her hand. No, she was not ready for this, not yet. This is one treasure she will reveal to him in due time, when she decides.
‘Enough…’she said, ‘…now come here, let me wash you, I am not done with it yet.’
Salim obediently curled up to his new mother, resting on her chest as she wrapped his skinny body with her softness. In a relaxed way her hands travelled all over his slight chest and arms, at this point they were just enjoying the comfort of warm foamy water and each other’s bodies. Preetha had never felt so good cuddling with any man (There was only one in her life, Ayan and the memory repulsed her), the way she felt with this boy. He reminded her of her childhood and her favorite teddy bear Mr. Poppins, which was her only friend and she spent the whole day with it, feeding it, mothering it, making imaginary conversations and cuddling while sleeping. Salim at that moment reminded her of the same comfort, her body was flooded with a surge of good hormones, the feeling was absolutely blissful. She could feel his heart thumping like a fluttering bird inside the cage of his chest under her hands and then she noticed something was rising out of the water.
It was his penis, ‘did it already grow a little?’ she wondered. It was hard and erect like a pole, the glans peeping out of the foreskin, it was throbbing red. It was so hard that it stood steady like a flag post, pulsating, the tip moist with water and oozing pre-cum.
‘Baby…’ she whispered in his ear, ‘…can I clean it for you? It won’t hurt I promise.’
Salim sighed and kissed her arm, ‘You can do whatever you want mommy, if you are doing it, everything feels good. There’s no need to ask me.’ He muttered.
Preetha giggled and reached out to his penis, he was so small that even leaning on her chest, legs stretched out, his cock was about half her arm’s length away. She held it delicately with both hands.
Just by the touch of her soft hands he trembled a little and buried his face in the nook of her thick arm, breathing hard. Preetha gently held his organ and slowly peeled off the foreskin from the glans, exposing the tender bulbous head. Salim whimpered a little, his sharp breathing tickling the inside of her right arm as Preetha giggled playfully. With a few gentle strokes the sheath of the foreskin was sliding up and down smoothly. Preetha understood it must have been a bit painful for the boy, since it was probably the first time his penis was being treated. He must understand how important it is to clean the foreskin as smegma might gather in the skin folds. So far it was clean since it was the first day he had ejaculated, but Preetha did not take any chances, she rubbed the foreskin with foam and water, she wanted him squeaky clean.
So much genital stimulation was overwhelming little Salim, it was hurting a bit, his foreskin was quite tight and peeling it off and cleaning it was quite painful; but it felt surprisingly good as well. His mother’s hands were so soft and she was so gentle yet firm. It seemed she knew exactly want to do. His penis felt safe and secure enveloped by her soft hands, and long sleek fingers.
Salim was moaning indistinctly, and Preetha wondered if it was because of pain or pleasure…or both? However she wanted to comfort him even more, her left hand stroking the rock hard penis she guided his head with her other hand to face her as she leaned forward looking into his half closed eyes deeply.
‘Is it hurting, my little angel?’ She asked softly.
Looking at her goddess like kind and beautiful face Salim felt all pain and discomfort fleeting. The tiny droplets of water on her cheeks and neck shining like diamonds, her deep dark eyes and her impossibly beautiful lips forming those comforting words made her look like an angel. Her mouth…her lips…the warm scent of her breath; her incredibly beautiful mouth and that little mole beckoned him, he felt like going inside her mouth and stay there forever. He was dumbfounded for a while and then could speak hesitantly.
‘No mom…it’s not hurting. You can never hurt me mom…’ he whispered.
Preetha felt her heart would explode with love. She pulled him up and lowered her face to his eager mouth and they kissed again.
It was the deepest most intimate kiss possible. First she just breathed in his mouth as he sucked her breath in hungrily, relishing the moist warmth and smell. Then she opened up a bit more, letting his curious tongue enter her oral cavity. It flicked nervously tasting the moisture of her tongue. Preetha understood his nervousness and gently wrapped her soft lips around his tiny mouth, guiding his little tongue inside her, playing with it with her own, bathing it with her copious saliva…their mutual pleasure was off the charts at that moment, with Preetha stroking his genital and their mouths playing with each other. They had lost count of time sailing on an ocean of love and pleasure.
Finally they parted a little, gasping for much needed breath. Preetha brushed Salim’s lips gently with her tongue and he also responded by flicking his tongue on her. They played for a while like that, little frantic touch and go of tongues, playing with the strings of saliva bobbing between them, smiling and giggling like two children at play. Preetha felt child like a child herself and her mind riddled with mischievous ideas.
‘Open your mouth.’ She said as she lowered his head, cradled in her right arm. Salim obeyed without a word. There was a pause for a while as Preetha worked up as much saliva as she could inside her mouth all the while stroking his cock.
‘What are you doing mom?’ Salim asked wondering, looking at her pursed lips, Preetha didn’t reply and tapped his cheek, understanding the gesture Salim opened wide and Preetha released a thick, warm, bubbling stream of saliva from her mouth. It oozed and dripped copiously in Salim’s eager maw filling the little hole with her viscous oral fluids. Salim kept his mouth open expecting more, Preetha was a little surprised, she expected him to be somewhat offended but all he wanted was more!
Preetha spat again, and then again pouring as much drool as she could produce in her mouth till it overflowed and trickled down the corner of Salim’s lips. That’s it, there was no more, Preetha’s mouth was almost dry. She pushed Salim’s chin up gently closing his brimming mouth. Salim didn’t immediately gulp down her spit, he swirled it inside, rolling his tongue around the liquid, tasting the juices of her mouth, enjoying the thick foamy texture. ‘Oh my God,’ Preetha marveled, ‘He really loves all this lewdness!’
To Salim, this was not any depravity at all; it was an act of unquestionable pure love. He could taste his new mother’s love in her saliva. It had the faintest flavor of Vodka she was having and that intrinsic, private smell of her mouth. It was a divine taste, perhaps second only to the taste of her breast milk. She was a goddess and any of her bodily fluids was nectar of life for him. This impossibly kind, beautiful and gentle goddess was gracious enough to find a wretched humble being like himself worthy of savoring her spit and he felt immensely privileged and honored for that. Slowly, very slowly he swallowed her saliva little by little, trying to enjoy it for as long as he could and finally his thin quivering mouth parted, releasing a sigh of satisfaction, his little pink tongue licked around his lips.
Preetha was amazed by the glow of satisfaction on his face. This was an act of ultimate unconditional devotion and submission to her, and she found a renewed rush of love and adoration flooding her heart.
She held him close tightly, whispering sweet nothingness in his ears as she stroked his penis, this time not with any hygienic motive, he was clean enough; but to guide him to the doorway of absolute physical salvation. Salim whimpered as Preetha’s soft hand worked up his penis, while with the other she caressed his face and body. He had become like a ball of dough in her hands which she rubbed, stroked and squeezed to her will. They had both fallen silent; the only sounds in the bathroom were their breathing and soft splashes of water as she stroked him.
Salim’s breathing turned labored as ecstasy intensified. Soft moans escaped his throat, his abdomen caving in and out in rapid spasms with each stroke. This time it felt even better, his mother’s hand soft and slippery with foam, him being cradled on her large warm and soft body, their combined naked wetness creating a sublime and deep bond. Perhaps the last time Salim felt this comfortable, warm and secure was even before his birth, inside his late mother’s womb.
The indistinct mewling of the tiny boy pressed hard on her body made Preetha feel the ultimate bliss of being a woman. She felt a halo of preternatural feminine energy around her, an aura of divinity. Like a mother she will shower all her love on him, like a woman she will introduce him to the pleasures and pains of copulation, but like a goddess she will also have complete sway over him. He was completely, unconditionally her own, she was his only salvation from the ravages of the world. She was his Mother, Woman and Goddess, and he her Son, Lover and Worshipper. Preetha had never felt so much positive energy inside her, and in her enthusiasm she started stroking faster, stronger carrying him to the brink of final release.
‘Ah…ah…ahhhhh…mommy…!’ Salim cried out, his body trembling with the throes of the impending climax. Preetha’s silky wet hands stroked relentlessly, sheathing and unsheathing his throbbing hard penis from the foreskin. Salim felt like his ears were belching fire, heart running like an Arabian horse.
‘You are almost there…aren’t you?’ Preetha hissed in his ear, blowing her hot breath.
‘I…I don’t know…I think…I think I will explode…please stop…I can’t take it anymore mommy…I will pee out that white stuff.’ Salim could barely speak his words punctuated by gasps.
‘It’s okay, let it go…I am there for you. You will feel good sweety…just let it go…’ Preetha whispered again, lightly flicking her tongue on his earlobe, and then she felt it rising as spasms erupted all over his body, his toes curled tightly inside the water, he felt his thigh muscles cramping and his malnourished belly tightening up in a knot. Preetha could actually see the bulbous glans bloating up slightly as it prepared for the final explosion, his urethra stiffening beneath her soft sensitive palm. And at that moment Preetha did something out of her whim, which she immediately regretted.
As Salim convulsed in her arms, his penis tightening up for ejaculation she capped the urethral fissure, the release hole at the tip tightly with her index finger and her thumb pressing the glans blocking the canal and the surging squirt of semen. She ruined his orgasm mercilessly.
At this moment Salim screamed with pain and stifled frustration. He shrieked loudly enough to be heard outside, but thankfully the apartment had thick walls, and every door and window were closed for the rains. Immediately Preetha felt a sharp pang of repentance. What did she just do? How could she be so cruel to this sweet boy? She bit her finger with guilt, her eyes welling up with tears. Salim is a human being, a child, and not her plaything!
Salim writhed with agony and tried to touch his penis, he didn’t even know what to do with it since he had no clue about masturbation, but Preetha held him firmly, grabbing his wrist and pushing head back on her shoulder. As desperate as Salim was for release he was no match for her strength and his struggles were rendered useless.
No, he was not going to touch himself ever. If he was to share her life he will have to abide by her rules. Though Preetha was ridden by guilt for her reckless torment, she made that decision at that moment. He will never masturbate, and even if he dares to learn she will put him back to street. His one and only source of pleasure will be his goddess mother and she will have complete control over his physical needs. This will be his strongest tie with her.
Salim’s thrtashings were gradually subsiding, replaced by sobs and whimpers. Preetha held him tight, reassuring him with her warmth and softness. ‘I am sorry baby…I am so sorry…’ Preetha said with a trembling voice. ‘I just wanted to keep it inside you. I will give you release but later, I promise my sweetheart!’ Salim was silent, in fact he couldn’t speak, his throat choked with the agony of his ruined orgasm, but slowly he became calm and went limp. Preetha hugged him and held him tight, his frail body rising and dipping with her breathing.
They stayed like that for a while until Salim regained his composure and then he turned towards her, sliding within her thick fleshy arms. His slim arms went around her neck and he buried his face in the corner of her neck inhaling the scent of her skin and half wet hair. His right hand caressed the nape of her neck, pleasuring her. He planted soft kisses which sent goosebumps all over her body. ‘I love you Mommy…’ he muttered in between kisses. Preetha kissed his slender neck as well as she said ‘How can you love me baby? I have just been such a bad mommy to you.’ Salim lifted his face from her neck and looked into her eyes deeply, his beautiful hazel eyes seeking love. ‘But you said you will give me release, you promised, didn’t you? That’s fine with me. Whatever you want Mommy I will be happy follow that.’ Preetha smiled at him and gave him a quick peck on his lips. ‘Now let’s dry up, the water is getting cold.’ She said.
Preetha rose from the tub, foam and water rolling down her large beautiful form. As she stood Salim’s hands slid all over her slick body stopping at her lower belly. He looked at her vagina with wide eyed awe. Her dense genital hair was glistening and dripping water. Due to the thick bushy growth Salim couldn’t see how a vagina actually looks when she stripped in front of him before they went into the tub and after they went in it was submerged in the foamy water.
But now as her hair was sticking to the skin and hanging in long strands, her vagina was partially exposed. This was the first time Salim saw a female genital at such proximity and he was mesmerized. It looked a glistening lotus among a garden of dark leaves. Preetha had been perpetually aroused all the while, and blood flow towards her genitals had increased, it had swollen up distinctly. The brown lips of her labia majora were bloated and the pinkish folds of her labia minora were partially visible. The button of her clitoris had retracted inside the fleshy hood. She had been lubricating for quite long, and though the water had washed away most of it a little remained and it dripped in a few strings, visibly different from the water. There was a slight smell as well and Salim inhaled it deeply. Preetha felt a little embarrassed. ‘Come,’ she said to Salim ‘There’s enough time to look at it later.’ Salim obeyed silently, held his hand as she guided him out of the Tub, careful so that they don’t slip on the wet floor.
Preetha wiped the boy with a soft towel as they stood on the moist tiles. The steam of hot water had settled all over the bathroom floor. Both of them felt refreshed and rejuvenated, especially Salim. His bruises had all but disappeared, the dirt washed away from his hair and body. He had already started looking much fairer. ‘He is such a beautiful boy,’ Preetha mused, ‘A gift from god indeed.’
As she wiped him dry, Salim looked up at her with infatuation. His new mother had the most beautiful face possible in the world, her dark black eyes were like two beaming lights that washed kindness all over him, her long thick half wet hair was like a night deluge, her flawless olive skin was soft and radiant, little shiny droplets of water made her look like she was studded with jewels, her most beautiful feature, her lips curled delicately in a benevolent smile. Unknowingly Salim had become hard again.
After drying up his torso Preetha noticed his stiff throbbing cock, she didn’t say anything and smiled knowingly. She started drying herself up, rubbing the towel on her long thick arms and then her wet hairy armpits. Looking at her rubbing her hirsute pits, something snapped inside Salim. All of a sudden he jumped and held her tight, his arms circled around her waist, his belly rubbing against her wet fuzzy vagina and head buried in the deep valley between her breasts.
Preetha gasped with a little surprise and then caressed his wet silky hair. ‘What happened?’ she asked tenderly. Salim didn’t reply immediately, he rubbed his face in the wet softness of her valley, punctuated by kisses. Preetha’s left arm snaked around his neck, holding him closer, a sigh escaped her lips, somehow instinctually this boy knew what to do to make her feel good. She gulped a little, licked her her lips with her eyes closed and tilted his head upwards gently with her hand.
He looked so cute and adorable, his cheeks squeezed between her heavy boobs, his head was a bit smaller than each of those huge globes of femininity, his puppy eyes looking up at her. ‘What happened?’ she asked again smiling reassuringly at him. At that moment he could ask anything from her.
‘Please give me release mommy’… he pleaded, ‘My pee pee is hurting!’
Preetha’s heart melted at this earnest prayer. She said nothing, continuing smiling and caressing his hair and then did something that surprised Salim in return.
and then did something that surprised Salim in return.
Preetha leaned down, put her arms behind Salim’s thigh and back and lifted him up effortlessly in her arms like a kitten. Though he was in his early teens, his new mother picked him up and carried him like a child. It was however not very surprising as Preetha was phenomenally built, and due to her athletic background and large frame, she was actually a very strong and powerful woman. A year of sedentary life due to carrying an unborn child and then losing it and after that going into depression combined with irregular, unhealthy food and alcohol had added to her bulk and took a toll on her fitness but her strength had in no way depleted. On the other hand Salim was really tiny, with a thin skinny structure and narrow bones. He was hardly 5’1” weighing maximum 40 kilograms whereas Preetha was 5’11” standing solid at more than 75 kilograms. She carried him out of the bathroom, closing the door behind them and walked down the passage to her bedroom.
Preetha looked at Salim’s face, amused by his expression; he looked flabbergasted and a bit intimidated as well, curled against her wet naked body, a bit stiff fearing a fall. ‘Don’t you worry darling,’ Preetha said ‘I won’t drop you. I can carry you for a mile without losing breath; you are my little baby, aren’t you?’
‘Yes Mommy…’ Salim said in trembling voice as they entered the bedroom. Salim gasped a little.
He had never seen such opulence in his life. The large master bedroom had wall to wall carpeting. A massive King size bed covered with milk white sheets and multiple pillows beckoned them. At one side of the room a glass covered bay window from floor to ceiling flaunted a balcony behind and the vast expanse of the storm ridden city beyond. They were on the 10th floor of the building hence it gave a wonderful view ahead. It had been more than two and half hours since Slim had entered Preetha’s apartment and the storm and rainfall was showing no sign of subsiding. It was 5:30 in the evening but the sky looked like a no moon night, thick dark clouds roiling, interjected by flashes of lightning. The howling winds thrashed the glass panes of the window as it shuddered. Dense drops of rain turned visibility into a haze, and water droplets were condensed on the window due to the coolness of the air conditioned room. Preetha had forgotten to turn off the AC as she hurried out to save Salim, and it was running all along. The room was chilly yet comfortable.
The dark turbulent outsides reminded Salim of how merciless this city can be, and how cruel he had been treated all these years. It was a dark violent world outside and his heart skipped a bit when thunder rolled loudly again. His arms encircled his mother’s neck tightly. Preetha looked into his eyes and saw fear and insecurity. She smiled at him reassuringly. That warm smile took away all of Salim’s anxieties. The world might be brutal outside but here in the luxurious apartment, in the coziness of the bedroom and in the soft strong arms of his beautiful mother he felt absolutely safe. The torrid weather outside seemed almost apocalyptic, as if the world was coming to an end, and in this world only Preetha and Salim were two people left, safe inside that haven.
Preetha carried Salim to the bed and plopped him on it. As Preetha released him he held on to the back of her neck and they both dropped on the bed, laughing. Preetha was heavy but her soft weight felt wonderful against Salim. The bed was soft as well; Salim had never laid down on such a soft bed ever in his life. Salim felt he was drowning in all that softness and warmth between the bed and his mother. His head felt fuzzy with such unimaginable love and comfort.
Like a weightless doll Preetha effortlessly slid him up the bed grabbing his underarms, resting his head on the soft pillows. Salim closed his eyes, threw his arms back and stretched like a waking cat, his legs wrapped around Preetha’s kneeling thighs. To Preetha this looked incredibly adorable and sexy. She caressed his slender torso; His skin had become clean and smooth after the bath. Her hands brushed all over his chest, fondling, teasing his little erect nipples delicately. Salim responded with sighs of pleasure. Her soft, warm palms slid down over his flat belly, fingers digging in his navel briefly as he squirmed a little and then further down to his thighs as he spread his legs for her.
By that time Salim had become rock hard again, his penis throbbing at each touch of his beautiful mother. Preetha rubbed the insides of his thighs gently as a gasp escaped his lips, his hands gathered on his chest as he looked at his mother expectantly. Preetha returned that look with her affectionate, knowing glance. At that moment he looked so adorable that Preetha could not ignore the call. It was time he got his release and Preetha decided to give it the most pleasurable way possible.
Preetha slid on her stomach, her massive, soft frame resting on his legs, enveloping them with her warmth, her face poised right above his throbbing penis. ‘What is she going to do now?’ he wondered, not a word had been exchanged between them since they entered the bedroom, and Salim dared not break that sweet silence. Emotions had taken over speech.
Preetha just looked at his penis unblinking for a while. It was hairless, silky smooth foreskin stretched on the length; veins were popping out due to the strain of erection. A bead of glistening precum had gathered on the ruddy tip. It was such a beautiful looking organ. His penis looked raw from the prolonged submersion in hot water, stroking and that ruined orgasm. Preetha decided to treat it with as much tenderness as possible. First what he needed was plenty of lubricant which will ease the rawness. She licked her lips.
Salim was wondering what his mother is up to as she inspected his penis minutely, barely touching it. He was yearning for her touch. He was surprised when Preetha finally lifted her head, positioned her pretty lips right over the tip and released a large dollop if spit. It drooled out of her mouth coating the entire length of his penis with its wet stickiness. Salim clenched his teeth and winced with the intense pleasure as the warm liquid rolled down his shaft, pooling at the base.
Preetha smiled and playfully trailed her long manicured fingernails on the sensitive and wet skin of Salim’s penis. The boy was writhing with pleasure but Preetha’s weight held his legs firmly in place. She smeared her slimy viscous saliva all over his penis with her fingers, touching lightly, titillating, not giving him the complete satisfaction of a firm hold. Salim moaned with intense pleasure, throwing back his head.
‘If this is his reaction from such minimal stimulation…’ Preetha contemplated, ‘…then what will he do about what’s coming next?’ Preetha mulled.
She opened her mouth, her hot heavy breath brushed on Salim’s penis as he squirmed, and then slowly. Very slowly she took the glans in her mouth, her lips wrapping on the base.
Salim was shocked. ‘Mommy…what are you doing? I pee from there…it’s…it’s dirty!’ he gasped breathlessly, waves of unknown pleasure flooding his body as Preetha’s tongue played with the head, tasting the sweet and salty precum that secreted from the tip. It felt delicious in her mouth. She didn’t reply.
Salim felt a bit queasy watching this goddess like woman sucking his penis like a candy bar. He had always learnt to know his genital is something disgusting. The memory of Raju bhai inserting that hateful thing in his rectum and playing with his still immature cock when he was still younger brought back that nightmare briefly. After that he had grown some sort of repulsion about human penis, even his own. He never even looked down when he used to urinate. He hated his penis and now he suddenly discovered it is a source of unthinkable pleasure the way his new mother, his savior was treating it. Strange conflicting feelings were clashing in his mind. This goddess was taking his lowly organ in her mouth, her sweet smelling and tasting mouth! This privilege was unbelievable to him. Just the sight of her beautiful face, her large closed eyes with long lashes, her smooth olive cheeks caving in with each suck and her lush lips wrapped around his shaft pushed him further towards climax.
Preetha relented for a moment, sucking in much needed breath; her lips hovering over the throbbing glans as they were connected with thick strands of saliva. ‘It’s okay baby…’ she said, strings of spit mixed with precum bobbing from her lips ‘There’s nothing dirty between mother and son.’
Preetha inserted the penis deep in her mouth going all the way down to the base. She was not using her hands as she slid up and down the penis solely with her mouth, rolling her tongue all around the length. Her mouth was overflowing with her oral juices as she made loud slurping sounds, and if it became too full she was releasing it from the tip of her tightly clamped lips, it dripped copiously on the white sheets. It was the hottest, most aggressive and lewd blowjob she had ever given in her life. In no time she made Salim’s crotch a slimy, gooey mess.
Salim on the other hand quivered with intense ecstasy, he in his entire life never knew any comfort or pleasure and now at this moment that overdose of gratification was overwhelming him. His mind went numb from sensory overload, he grabbed the pillow on which he was resting tightly, knuckles going white, sharp rapid breaths accompanied by moans escaped his parted lips, all the muscles of his frail body spasmed with ravishment, toes curling, thighs quavering. At any moment he was going to cum.
Preetha from her experience knew when he was going to cum; his urethral channel will go stiff and his glans will throb uncontrollably, so whenever she felt that in her mouth she briefly ceased her oral stimulation subsiding the orgasm. Preetha herself was becoming uncontrollably excited from giving him oral sex. His desperate reactions were turning her on wildly. She lifted her hips and felt her pulsating vagina with her hand. Her pubic hair had become sticky as her pussy released juices freely, she could even feel it dripping from her vulva. Preetha wanted to enjoy more, but this was getting too much for him, for a couple of times Preetha dialed down his ejaculation but finally had pity on the boy. His body was still not ready for such sexual challenges. Preetha decided to relieve him from sexual tension which had built up like steam ready to explode. She moved her wet lips rapidly on the shaft tightening them briefly at the neck or corona of the bulbous head, the insides of her cheeks pumping rhythmically. Salim was almost ready to explode until a sudden loud and intruding sound interrupted that sweet release. The calling bell was ringing.
Preetha removed her mouth, looking at the doorway of the bedroom. It must be the restaurant delivery, she was insanely irritated ‘This was the time they had to come?’ she exclaimed angrily in her mind.
‘Mommy…don’t stop…please…’ Salim whimpered. Preetha at first decided not to respond to the door, but then realized Salim was starving, he didn’t have anything to eat, and her breast milk was not enough to sustain him. With the given condition of the weather it was unlikely they were going to get any food if the deliveryman goes away. With the intoxication of physical pleasures suddenly broken, Preetha came back to her senses. She had claimed Salim as her son and mate, but she had to act responsible if she wanted to be his mother and cannot give in to her selfish needs and desires.
Preetha is genuinely phenomenally built – a mighty woman with strength, stamina and sensuality to match !
I am sure even her ex-husband was no match for her immense strength, vast stamina and sexual appetite !
She really deserves to a goddess whom every male should adore and worship!
We do not know how tiny Salim is going to cope with this mighty woman (only the author can tell us !), but at least we need to rush to the toilet holding our erect pee-pee in our hands, after going through Preetha’s tale !
Splendid art and story by a very talented and gifted author indeed !! We look forward to more such immortal creations from him !!
The description of Preetha's husband Ayan had been given before. He was a tall well built man as well, but Preetha had a voracious sexual appetite. However he was a patriarchal, double standard evil son of a bitch behind the mask of a gentleman, a puppet in the hands of his equally hypocritical, manipulative and evil parents.
This is perhaps one of the best "Straight Shotacon" stories ever written !
The story revolves round the emotional and erotic relationship between a cute yet wimpy teenage boy and a powerfully built, fully grown, young woman who simultaneously assumes the role of an adoptive mother, a sex mate and a goddess.
Such is the remarkable difference in the size of the duo that the boy's head barely reaches upto her breasts, standing, and her powerful arms are as thick as, if not thicker than, the thighs of the boy ! Thus, she is able to dominate the boy totally and "plays" with him as per her sweet desire !
The story line is smooth, the unfolding of the plot is realistic while depiction of the characters and expression of emotional thoughts are superb !!
In essence, a great work !!
I am a bit disappointed to see there are no comments from the readers. An artist's hard work and endeavor is only fruitful when he/she gets encouragement. Without that it is a lonely and isolated venture. I doubt there are any other works like these in entire shotacon universe. If there are no comments (good or bad, I am not averse to criticism) then I might have to move on to another forum.
Nobody ever comments on anything on here. Part of it is that they don't think that they have anything intelligent to contribute, but part of it comes from this :
>This board is for porn, not for in-depth discussion of the subject matter of said porn. Repeat offenders will be banned and their threads deleted.
I think this rule is about not turning the board into a pedo haven, or having 60% of the board's posts be variations on the phrase, "lol where were these women when I was a kid????". It's actually not a bad rule, buuuut, it's just vague enough to stifle discussion, overall. Maybe.
Anyway, the story is still really good. The bathtime scene is particularly sweet, and romantic. The art is really great, as well, and I'm glad you guys decided to go with the natural look, for Preetha's body hair. I'm really looking forward to seeing the rest of this.
nice work. Do some stories with south Indian characters too.
this is absolutely the most amazing story i ever read! please don't mind people, i'm sure they are enjoying your thread daily. waiting for a new pic and story, please keep going! if you ever wanted to go somewhere let us know,i'm a fan!
nice work. Do some stories with south Indian character.
nice work. Do some stories with south Indian characters too.
i cant see where are the images
>>28173Nothing wrong here. Something wrong with your connection maybe?>>28099Phenomenal work OP. Best story I've ever read in past 13yrs of reading erotic stories. Please continue!
please dont stop! this is amazing story and art!
I fully agree with Jo ! Both the story and art are truly amazing, fascinating, intoxicating and unique !
Hmmm .... licking armpit hair, of course ! But, not only that ! Licking Preetha's dense bush of profuse pubic hair too !! Please !
Going through this story, I find it is truly amazing !! Engrossing, vibrant, both the characters so much tangible, earthly and true-to-life ! The story seems to usher in a new genre ! Do you find it equally absorbing and exciting like me ? :)
She wiped her drool dripping chin with the back of her hand and smiled warmly at Salim.
‘We will continue later, there’s no dearth of time, but you need proper food, and I am hungry as well. You need to keep up your energy, there’s a long night ahead of us.’ She said, the glint in her eyes promising him unknown pleasures that awaited him to keep him excited.
Salim groaned as he rolled over and Preetha slapped his tiny ass lovingly.
‘Now go, chop chop; answer the door for me. I am totally naked.’
‘But I am naked too, and you put all my clothes in the washing machine…’ Salim complained.
‘Wrap a towel around, you are a boy. And hey, there’s money in my purse on the table, pay the guy and tell him to keep the change. Now quick!’
Salim trotted away as Preetha watched him lovingly. She stretched on the bed like a waking cat and slid out herself. She was feeling a bit chilly, now that the heat of excitement had subsided. She was also feeling a bit awkward walking around naked in the apartment. She had never done that ever in her life, but today she was doing a lot of things she had never done - couldn’t even think of doing in fact.
Preetha opened her closet and rummaged through her clothes, there were heaps of them. All expensive stuff, some from US and some from India. She fished out a night dress, a babydoll gown she had bought during the first year of her marriage, in fact Ayan gave it to her. She had barely worn that ever and thought of that dress being overtly salacious and risqué. But that moment she felt so good about herself that she decided to put it on. The cream color satin slipped smoothly around her shoulders, it felt wonderful on her skin. She looked herself at the mirror and almost fell in love with herself. It was a drastic change of mood from afternoon when she hated looking at herself on the mirror. Love does change a woman so much. The cream satin contrasted beautifully against her olive skin, it was a little tight, as she had grown in these years, especially now as her milk heavy breasts almost spilled out of the cups, nevertheless she didn’t mind.
Preetha could hear Salim rummaging through the plates and cutlery. He was setting the table. Such a dutiful little kid, she thought gleefully and stepped out of the bedroom.
Salim was dumbstruck looking at her in that babydoll night gown. He had never seen anything so beautiful and erotic in his life as his mother walked across in long strides to the fridge and poured herself another vodka. His eyes were stuck on her like a magnet. Preetha noticed that but didn’t say anything. She smiled inwardly and sipped from the glass, brushing her hair with her fingers. She started humming a soulful song of Rabindranath Tagore.
Sakhee, bhabona kahare bale.
Sakhee, Jatona kahare bale.
Tomra je balo dibaso-rajanee bhalobasa bhalobasa-
Sakhee, bhalobasa kaare kai.
Se ki kebali jatonamai.
Which translates into:
‘What do you mean by 'Thought', my dear.
What do you mean by 'Pain' either.
What is that you yell 'Love' for,
What the word 'Love' means,
Is it saturated with pain?
Is that synonymous with tears or sigh of sufferings?
It is surely a wonder, why it fascinates people.
To my eyes everything is pleasing.
All are youthful, all are free from filth.
Blue sky, green parks, elaborate moonlight, tender blossoms –
All alike myself.
They laugh and sing all the time,
Face certain death delightfully smiling.
They know not sobs, neither fascinated to pains.
Flowers fall apart giggling, moonlight vanish while smiling,
Stars in the sky go out of vision in the ocean of light.
Who is happier than me –
Come O Darling, sooth your ears
With the blissful songs of a happy person.
You should be able to smile for a while amid routine sufferings.
Let us all sing for a single day ignoring the melancholy.’
Youtube link for the song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AxNzXDBU-wE
Preetha had a sweet voice and she took music lessons in her school. For so many years she had quit singing but it came back to her all in once, rushing.
Salim watched his mother unblinking as she sang. How could a person be so beautiful and have the voice of an angel all at once? He pinched himself secretly, trying to confirm if this was for real or he was dreaming all the while. He stared at his mother’s half closed eyes, swaying hips, and that precious mouth forming those beautiful words and tunes.
Preetha was immersed in her song; when she finished she looked back and saw Salim staring. She felt a little shy and embarrassed; she hoped she didn’t make a fool of herself. However looking at the expression on the boy’s face it didn’t look like it. He was totally awestruck. Preetha didn’t say anything and settled on the chair of the dining table. Salim had set the table and poured the contents of the order in proper bowls.
They were having noodles, chicken and soup. As Preetha sat watching Salim admiringly he served her a portion of the noodles, smiling at her. They were not speaking; expressions were communicating the love and affection that flowed between them like a river. Both of them settled down for dinner.
Preetha was using a fork to eat the noodles, and Salim who never had such luxury to eat with utensils found it extremely hard to eat. He was habituated to eat with his hands throughout his life. He hesitantly watched how pertly she rolled the noodles in her fork and put it daintily in her mouth. She had all the qualities of a highborn woman and he was just a pathetic street urchin.
Her act of eating, the way her hand moved briskly rolling up the noodles, the way her mouth opened, not too wide, neither too small and the way she chewed without opening her mouth looked fascinating and in a way erotic as well. Salim tried to follow her but he was using the fork like a spoon and noodles were spilling out, making a mess of his face and plate. He felt so inferior to her that a sudden pang of sadness rushed over him. He stopped eating, fidgeting with his fork timidly.
Preetha noticed this and she smiled at him affectionately, ‘What happened sweetheart? You don’t like the food?’ she asked.
Salim shook his head hesitantly, ‘No, I love the food; I have never had food like this ever in my life. I have been living off on rice and dal which they gave me for payment in the tea stall, and pickings from the garbage dump. I have never tasted anything like this, but…’ he paused reluctantly.
Preetha felt a sudden pang of heartache as he had brought up his past life again. She put her hand on his head and said sincerely.
‘Those days are gone my sweet baby boy, they are never coming back, you know that; I promised.’
‘I know Mommy, but…’ Salim said hesitantly.
‘But what?’ Preetha asked again.
‘I…I don’t know how to eat with fork. Can you teach me please?’ he asked.
Salim looked so adorable asking shyly to teach him that Preetha laughed musing, ‘Oh god this boy will kill me with his cuteness’.
‘Hahahaha…’ she laughed, ‘It’s okay, I will teach you. It’s quite simple…’ she said affectionately tucking his long hair behind his ear.
‘Come here, come closer to me.’ She pulled Salim’s chair nearer to her by grabbing below the seat as if he was weightless.
Preetha rolled the noodles with her fork neatly, ‘See this is how you roll them with your fork, so that they won’t fall off.’ She put it in front of his mouth, ‘Now open up…’ she cooed.
Salim obediently opened his mouth and Preetha put the noodles inside tenderly.
‘See, this is how it’s done, simple.’ She smiled. ‘Now try it yourself’.
Salim rolled the noodles with his own fork but hesitated eating.
‘You are doing it fine baby, now put it in your mouth.’ Preetha said.
Salim looked up at her and asked her timidly, ‘Mommy can I feed you, just like you fed me?’
Preetha gushed at his gesture of love. ‘Of course you can sweety…’ she opened her mouth and leaned closer to him. Salim paused for a few moments staring at her open mouth. It was the loveliest, most beautiful mouth he had ever seen in his life, her ruddy lips, her pearly white teeth, the warm dark and moist interior, the smell that came with her breath and above all that beautiful black mole glowing in the corner of her lower lip. He desperately wanted to kiss her, taste that wonderful pit of love, but controlled himself. His hand was shaking as he raised the noodle filled fork to her mouth.
Very carefully he put the noodles in his mother’s mouth but due to his over-cautiousness some of it spilled out. Preetha giggled as she chewed the noodles, a long strand hanging from her lips. Salim caught the hanging end from his mother’s mouth between his lips and sucked, Preetha sucked playfully as well and they played a little game of tug and war with their lips for a while until the noodle broke in half. Both laughed together, and intimate cozy laughter of a mother and son, between two lovers.
Salim watched as Preetha chewed the noodles, her pursed lips moving slowly with the motion of chewing and a radiant faint smile of satisfaction on her face. Salim felt a sudden yearning within him, something inexplicable; he nestled closer to Preetha, put his hand across her chest, closed his eyes and opened his mouth expectantly. By this time their bond had grown so deep that Preetha knew exactly what he wanted, no words were needed to communicate.
Preetha held his head tenderly, close to her and opened her mouth. She pushed out the half chewed semi liquid food with her tongue as it rolled down viscously in Salim’s open maw.
Salim whimpered and shivered with joy as he tasted his mother’s food, now enriched with the saliva of her mouth, the texture smooth and creamy. Salim gulped it down hungrily and opened up for more. Preetha indulged him; she took more noodles and chewed, making it ready for her baby boy to eat.
This act of premastication or mouth to mouth feeding is an ancient custom; this kiss feeding has been observed in many cultures and has been used by women to remind children of their obligations to her. It is an act of unconditional devotion and love as the mother feeds the child with her own mouth. Some say it is the precursor of the act of kissing which is an exhibition of love and affection. It is a sacred bond between mother and child from prehistoric ages. Mothers introduced children to foreign food through premastication after weaning period as a breast milk supplement. Though Salim was not a baby but this primal act of love and bonding was as intimate as it could be. A mother’s body should be the sole source of sustenance for a child. Her breast milk, the food of her mouth should be the ultimate source of satisfaction for Salim, and yes he begged more and more as Preetha pampered him by spitting bolus after bolus of chewed noodles, meat and vegetables in his mouth.
Time passed by and both their lips and chins had become sticky with food and saliva. Tears were rolling down Salim’s eyes from the abundance of love and pleasure.
Sometimes he also pushed some of the food back in Preetha’s mouth as they fed mutually. It was sloppy but they reveled in the mess, their lips and tongues brushing each other frantically as they played and ingested the food. Both of them were erotically aroused as well, Preetha could feel the innards of her thighs growing moist and the smell of her nether regions trailing up and overpowering the smell of food. She could also notice the hard bulge in Salim’s towel.
Finally they relented, both contented, the hunger of their bellies subsided but the love of their hearts overflowing. It was such a sweet and intimate thing they did together.
Both Salim and Preetha remained silent for a while, avoiding glances shyly. Preetha smiled with satisfaction inwardly and wiped her wet mouth, cheeks and neck with the table cloth. Salim was still sitting, his head spinning from the intensity of their mutual feeding. Preetha picked up the dishes and utensils and dumped them in the sink. The maid won’t be coming tomorrow due to the torrential rain and storm for sure, and though Preetha had been unmindful of any household chores for a while she suddenly felt responsible. Preetha’s concern for the neatness of her home and kitchen dawned upon her, this was no way to bring up a boy, since she had taken upon the responsibility of being his mother, she had to act likewise. Preetha’s mind was swimming in myriad thoughts, the vodka she had was taking its effect again, a dull dizziness settling in as she wiped the plates and dipping them in the sink.
Suddenly a faint gasp escaped her lips as she felt a couple of slim arms sliding around her waist and holding her firmly. She could feel a pair of warm lips planting soft kisses on her wide bare back, goosebumps erupted on her skin. Salim was so small that he could hardly reach above her lower back and he was kissing the sensitive parts of her bare back above the night dress. His hands cupped her massive breasts, feeling the heaviness. Preetha smiled inwardly, the boy was acting like a conventional male who becomes horny watching his woman performing household chores.
‘Mommy…’ Salim cooed from behind, ‘…please let me take care of the dishes, you sit and relax.’ He said.
‘It’s okay baby, let Mommy clean up.’ Preetha said.
‘No…’ Salim insisted ‘…since I am here you need not worry about any household chores. I am good at all of it. I will brush, I will clean, I will cook food. If you need something I will get it from market, you need not lift a finger. If you have a maid just let her go. I will do everything here. I don’t want the presence of a third person here in our home. There will be just the two of us, there’s no need for anyone else.’
Preetha turned, Salim’s arms still coiled around her waist loosely and she pinched his cheek affectionately. There was something in his eyes, it was more than gratitude. There was a glint of awe and devotion, as if taking care of household chores was the least he could do for his goddess mother. ‘Let’s see…’ she said vaguely and settled back to her chair, continue sipping from her half finished drink as Salim went ahead with finishing up with the dishes.
Preetha lit a cigarette and pulled a long drag, her eyes trailing away into nothingness as languidness took over her. Various thoughts swarmed her mind. Today she had committed herself to a beautiful, deep yet complex and responsible relationship. If she wanted to continue there were a lot of things that she had to take care of. First, society; though city folks in India are a lot liberated still there were subtle conventional patriarchal bindings. People would ask why she had taken in a teenage boy, what was his relationship with her? Anyhow the neighbors had a lot of questions regarding her being staying alone in this flat all by herself. Men looked at her with lusty eyes as if there was a chance she might be available, and women looked at her with scorn, being the most beautiful woman in the entire housing society. Now a young boy staying with her will raise more questions and gossip. Salim was fifteen years old approximately, but due to his slight frame, short height and absence of any body hair he could well pass of as being just twelve. Preetha was thirty one, but due to her statuesque figure, voluptuousness and the maturity she gained from all her past bitter experiences gave her enough maturity to be his mother. An ominous fleeting thought occurred to her; maybe she should end it here before it becomes more serious. Perhaps she should give him some money and bid him adieu.
Preetha glanced at him from the corner of his eyes and the way he was so sincerely washing and wiping all the plates and bowls swept her with immense love, adoration and affection. How could she even think of letting him go? What would do that to this poor innocent boy? It will devastate him for sure, and after going through so much in his life this betrayal will drive him to the very brink. He might not survive it at all. Preetha immediately discarded any notion of abandoning him. Instead she started thinking how she could make it work.
The first thing she had to do was join back her job. Her friends in the powerful media house will support her through this. She had just lost a child and it is very natural that she would think of adopting one, in fact that will gain her a lot of praise and support from her colleagues. Some of her close friends knew about the heinous act of the Mullicks and they were stubbornly pursuing her to press charges on them, but she didn’t want to get into that mudslinging and kept it discreet. She could use that as a leverage to coerce the Mullicks to write off this flat to her, and for a hefty financial settlement as well. Ayan was anyway providing money to her, so why not settle for something more permanent?
Also, her company was well connected and funded many NGOs, getting adoption papers for Salim won’t be that hard as well. Her boss Suman Bhaduri would be more than happy to arrange all of that for her since he was very influential, but she might have to pay a price for that. In present scenario as she was in need there was no other way but compromise and yes she was mentally prepared to pay that price for Salim. She was ready to go all the way to make him part of her life.
Preetha’s ponderings were suddenly cut short as a pair of slim cool arms slid around her neck, and Salim’s face nuzzling on the base of her neck, planting kisses.
‘I am done with the dishes Mommy; now please let’s go back to the bedroom.’ He said, his warm breath brushing her cheeks.
‘And do what?’ Preetha asked teasing, finishing her drink.
‘I don’t know…’ Salim responded shyly. ‘…What we were doing before I guess…’
‘You want me to do that after having dinner?’ Preetha asked coyly ‘What if I puke?’
Salim was a little taken aback, he didn’t consider this, he was just thinking of his own pleasure which he thought was very unfair on his part. He was ashamed; he lowered his gaze as Preetha craned her neck to look back and him and caught his flustered face blushing. Preetha giggled humorously and brushed his head with her hand.
‘Okay, let’s go…’ she said and stood up, spring in her legs. Salim looked up at her smiling as he spread his arms, Preetha knew what it meant. It meant another ride to the bedroom. Preetha gave him another of her sweet lenient smile and brushed his cheeks with her knuckles. She put one hand behind his knee and the other on the small of his back as he surrendered his slight frame to her powerful arms. She picked him up effortlessly as his legs encircled her waist, arms around her neck and her arms cradled his body by his ass, and they were facing each other. Preetha smiled at him and he smiled back shyly. No words were exchanged as their eyes were locked on each other, drinking from each other’s gaze. He looked at her in a way all women want to be looked at by a man, but in this case it was a small boy barely in his teens. This was love in its purest form.
Preetha walked towards the bedroom, taking her time, they were in no hurry. The world was their oyster and this lavish 3 BHK flat their love nest.
Preetha and Salim went back to the dreamy snuggery of the bedroom. Preetha set him back on his feet and Salim slid down, happy and satisfied by the comforting feel of his new mother carrying him from the dining space to the bedchamber.
Salim brushed the bed, fixing the crumpled bedsheets as they mentally prepared for their journey into each other. Preetha was delighted by the way he took care of everything, making everything his own, overcoming his hesitation. As he was busy with the bed she fixed her hair, piling the long lustrous stresses behind. Both her arms were naturally up and she didn’t even notice Salim was staring at her with a mesmerized expression his eyes were stuck unblinking at her pits and the lush dark growth that covered them. He realized that aside from the hair on their head, other hairy parts of woman’s body can look equally beautiful. It was natural and promised the secret pheromones of a woman’s intimate regions, the warmth of the fuzz and a forbidden smell that only the closest of the woman could be privy to. Would she allow him that special access? Would he be able to sniff that priceless perfume which was exclusive to her body? Would he be able to taste the texture of that warm dusky fuzz?
Preetha noticed this finally and smiled at him dreamily, there was something in his eyes that didn’t make her even slightly embarrassed due to her hirsute oxters. There was a fascination mixed with tenderness with which he stared at her hairy armpits. Due to her large frame and thick heavy arms, Preetha’s armpit region was quite wide and fleshy and quite peculiarly though the rest of her body was practically hairless due to sparse growth, her armpits and pubic region had an abundance of fur. Men don’t like armpit hair, and it is a way of them to body shame a woman and it has been marketed for years as being disgusting and unhygienic. Even Ayan had tremendous distaste for her armpit and pubic hairs. But this boy on the other hand was fascinated by it. Probably it is similar to young girls’ fascination with men with beards. It promises maturity, wisdom and the protectiveness of a father. Perhaps looking at Preetha’s armpit hair Salim had a similar yet distinctly divergent feeling of his own.
‘What are you looking at?’ Preetha asked playfully still arranging her hair and flaunting her armpits. Salim was caught unaware and he smiled shyly shaking his head ‘N…nothing Mommy, it’s just that you are so beautiful…’ he stammered a bit.
Preetha teased him a little by picking at her armpit hair with her fingers and expressing mock resentment. ‘Yes, beautiful – except these don’t you agree? I haven’t cleaned my armpits for weeks, see how dense it has grown, and once it grows it releases a lousy smell…tsk.’ She said.
‘No Mommy…Salim’ said with an innocent smile, ‘there’s no bad smell, not at all. In fact I think it really smells nice, and the hair looks so beautiful, just a small tuft…a warm patch of fuzz which my nose would love to dive in.’ He said without any hesitation.
‘You are a naughty little boy you know that?’ Preetha pinched his nose and slumped on the soft bed. ‘Come, sit beside me…’ she invited Salim who obeyed happily. Preetha looked at him with flirting eyes and told him, ‘Salim you have seen me the way just two other men has seen me in my life, I have kept nothing hidden from you. Now tell me which part of me you like the most?’
Salim stared at her for a moment and answered, ‘When we worship a goddess do we think which part we should worship? The whole idol is a symbol of divinity, just like that every single inch of you is beautiful Mommy, how can I distinguish?’ he asked.
Preetha laughted heartily, ‘No…these philosophies won’t work on me…’ she said mischievously, ‘You have to choose.’
Salim remained silent for a moment scratching the sheet of the bed and looked up with demure eyes.
‘If you ask me I would say your face Mommy, I don’t remember my mother’s face, but your face is the one which I have always imagined; a mother, a goddess and the woman I always dreamed of who will give me comfort and love as I spent nights on the rags of the slums or the concrete of the pavement.’ He said. ‘When I first saw you as you slapped the watchman I must say I was terrified, your face was beautiful, but it was the beauty of a roaring fire, and then in the lift when you said not to be afraid your face was beautiful like the silver light of the moon.’
Preetha beamed at Salim, how could he speak suck beautiful words? He didn’t sound like a street urchin at that moment.
‘And the other part…’ Salim continued, now a bit hesitantly ‘Are your breasts, not just because they are so big and beautiful but because you gave me sustenance from them. My insides were burning with hunger and you quenched that fire with the milk of your body. It was the sweetest most sublime thing that ever entered my mouth. You saved my life with the very nectar of your body; the body of a goddess and from that moment I knew my life, my very being belongs to you.’
Preetha sighed and cupped her heavy breasts with both hands. ‘You were denied love Salim, on the other hand I am a hapless woman who had been denied to give my love to the one who was growing inside me. There’s so much love trapped inside me…in these very breasts that it hurts…it feels like they will explode with the pent up love boiling within and this pain is just not in my mind, it is in my body, in these very breasts which I relieved today by feeding you.’ Preetha said as she rubbed her breasts slowly over the satin material of her night dress. She could feel the buds moisten.
‘You know a normal woman produces close to a liter of milk per day in her lactation period and I am no normal woman.’ Said Preetha looking into Salim’s eyes ‘Considering my size and raging hormones I believe I am capable of expressing double the amount. Now imagine all this milk pent up in my breasts for months hurting my mammary glands day and night, the pain and the yearning for an eager mouth to suckle from them, think about what I had gone through and how you saved me from that pain.’
Salim put a hand on her chest and slid closer to her looking deep into her eyes. ‘You will never feel that pain anymore Mommy, I am here to take that away. You need not feed me anything else but your milk, that would be enough for me and I will stay as your son and worshipper. I will do everything for you.’
Preetha could not control her emotions and pulled his head closer and this time Salim himself locked his lips on her, an open mouth kiss stimulating each other’s lips, tongue and mouth. Salim was overcoming his shyness and his kiss had become bolder, nibbling on his mother’s tongue with his lips and teeth lightly, his own tongue darting inside her mouth seeking pleasure, flicking on the inside of her pearly teeth and roof of her mouth pulling in her oral juices inside his own mouth and swallowing them, not forgetting to return the favor by oozing out his own saliva into her oral cavity. It was a wonderful intimate play of love. When with a deep sigh they released each other both their lips and chin were wet at dripping of their mutual mingled saliva.
Preetha relaxed and rolled over on the bed. The flimsy cups of her night dress was unable to contain her boobs and they slipped out of the smooth satin, Salim watched her as she stretched dreamily, her eyes half closed, nostrils flared and lips open and inviting. Salim bent over her, peering at her beautiful face smiling. ‘Mommy, are you sleepy?’ he asked. Preetha did not reply, kept her eyes closed but shook her head slowly in contradiction. Her voluminous chest was rising and dipping heavily with her breath, and she licked her lips enticingly releasing a soft but long sigh.
Her Sigh was interrupted suddenly by a gasp as she could feel Salim lunging on her body, burying his face, rubbing his cheeks in the deep valley between her humongous breasts. He showered her with kisses, warming her cool skin with his breath and wetness of his mouth. Mushy sighs and moans were escaping Preetha’s mouth as her body writhed in slow languid motions reciprocating to Salim’s kisses and cuddling. She pulled him closer to her, his slight frame resting comfortably on her large soft body as he nuzzled her neck, raining kisses in every nook and cranny. Preetha responded to each kiss with moans and sighs expressing her pleasure to the boy, she wanted him to know how much she was enjoying this. Her hands slid up and caressed his narrow back, moving down and unwrapping his towel, rendering him completely naked as he pleasured her.
Preetha rolled over as Salim desperately clawed on her dress trying to cling to her as she moved away, her boobs slipped out of the silky material. Preetha was on her knees now, she grabbed a handful of Salim’s hair and pulled him up. Salim was a bit taken aback by this sudden harshness but he went with the flow. ‘You are crazy about my boobs aren’t you?’ Preetha said breathlessly shaking his head a little and drawing it close to her breasts. Salim responded by kissing her breasts, preetha cupped her right breats with her hand and showed it to Salim teasingly, ‘You will have them…I will give you more milk, you can have to your heart’s content. Let it be your dessert after dinner baby.’
‘I want your boobs mommy, I want your milk. The best foods in the world can’t rival the taste of your milk…’ Salim muttered half audibly.
‘You will…’ Preetha said and pulled Salim on her lap with a sudden tug. Salim was surprised. ‘…but let’s finish what we started, I want your milk first.’ Preetha said as she cradled him on her lap, left arm sliding behind his back, supporting him while the fingers of her right hand wrapped around the shaft of his penis, enveloping it in the warmth of her fist.
Salim understood what she was up to, his arms coiled around her neck as he nuzzled on her cheek.
‘Mommy, aren’t you going to do it with your mouth? It felt so good…’ he asked weakly, shivering as Preetha stroked his cock in a steady rhythmic motion, he was tight and stiff like a rod already.
‘No,’ she replied curtly ‘I just had dinner, I can’t take it in my mouth now or I will puke. Why, doesn’t this feel good?’ She asked.
‘Yessss…it does mommy, anything you do to me feels good.’ Salim mewled, planting repeated kisses on her cheek and chin. Preetha teased, puckering her lips, promising a kiss but not delivering it. Salim yearned for a kiss from his mother, but Preetha denied her lips to him. Slim kissed the corner of her mouth desperately.
‘No…no kisses for baby boy until he is done…’ she said teasingly continuing to stroke his cock, she could feel his pre-cum drenching the inside of her fist, lubricating it. Preetha exhilarated him even more by pressing her cheek onto his and rubbing their faces together gently, parting sweet words of intense love.
‘cum for me baby…cum for mommy…pleeaaaseee…’ she murmered stroking his cock, now faster than ever. Salim bit on his lips, as intense passion and pleasure overran his senses, he was shaking. The feel of his mother’s soft cheek, her voice, her warm breath as she whispered to him, guided him to unknown shores of pleasure.
Preetha used his stiff cock to pull back the satin cup of her dress, exposing her right nipple and rubbed his cock on the hardened nub, she could see drops of milk oozing out and dribbling down his cock, mingling with his pre-cum and lubricating it further. a smile of bliss beamed on her face as Salim held her tighter, pressing his face hard on her cheek and moaned ‘Oh Mommy…what are you doing…I can’t take it anymore…’
Preetha remained silent, smiling as her hand did all the talking, sliding up and down in quick strokes, exerting the right amount of pressure, her hand was slick and slimy with milk and pre-cum, a sweet musty smell of their bodily fluids was emanating. The tip of Salim’s cock was red and throbbing, ready to explode any moment.
Preetha finally decided to push him off the brink by kissing his cheek repeatedly, squeezing him closer, tighter to her body, as he stiffened, a tremor rolled through his small frame as he screamed with intense pleasure and passion ‘Oh Mommy…it’s happening…it’s happening again…I am going to pee that white stuff again….ah…ah…aaaahhh!’
Salim released finally, thick hot bubbling cum jet sprayed from the tip of his cock, Preetha was amazed once again, ‘How can he hold so much cum in such a little body!’ she marveled.
Salim continued screaming, eyes wide as Preetha looked intensely into them speaking through her clenched teeth. ‘Yeah…that’s my boy…that’s my little darling….cum for mommy…spill out everything that’s inside…every single drop’, she said as her hand milked him empty. Cum splattered on the bed sheet and on her forearm, rolling down in thick droplets. Finally the eruption subsided and Preetha held Salim close and leaned back on the bed.
Salim was resting on his mother’s body now, he was still panting from the release as a warm afterglow spread through his body. His mind had gone numb and he temporarily lost control of his body as his open gasping mouth drooled on her breast. Preetha trailed her cum wet fingers on his long hair and kissed his forehead lovingly. She could feel his running heart which was beating right on her breasts. A sigh of bliss left her mouth as they lay in the afterglow for unknown moments. Rain pattered on the window panes and a cozy silence settled in the bedroom.
omg such beautiful writing ! you are talented, i kept reading and looked at the pics the same time, it made it more erotic! i can't wait to see her son use her armpit hair for his desire too! lickin,kissing,fucking <3
I come here to this site to read your story only. PLease do not ever leave us :-).
I like the story and of course also the pictures, although i don't like all the practices ( for example the eating stuff was not my cup of tea ), but everyting else is great. I would totally be happy about some anal play on him as you had in the other story you posted some months ago.
However, whatever you do, i am your fan!
Hey there, thanks for continuing the storyline here. As usual the story is fantastic, love the added touches like the arm pit hairs and food sharing, as well as the superb narrating. Can't wait to see where this goes!
ps. If possible could Salim's penis be smaller considering his nutrition,ethnicity and age? Cheers mate! :)
fantastic story. I really hope she sits on his face till he makes her cum
Tantalising ! Mesmerising ! Amazing ! This story can only be described by these three adjectives ! I can humbly say that this story has added a new genre in the realm of "straight shotacon" and deserve to be rated as a milestone story ! Man, what gripping story line and what a fantastic style of narration and fascinating dialogue ! The interplay of subtle emotions in the minds of Preetha and Salim has been portrayed splendidly ! Preetha being the larger, healthier, much stronger and statuesque partner, her natural psyche of dominating Salim in this relationship has also been brought out very masterfully ! And yes, I do agree with Anonymous (ID : c085fb) that it would be thrilling to see Salim use Preetha’s wide hairy armpits for kissing, sucking and fucking as he gradually starts enjoying hot sex with this stalwart woman ! And yes, anal play (as suggested by Nobody ID : ec3a39) just like Sutapa, another statuesque woman, performed on Suman in the vernacular story “Aro Govire Jao”, would be great too ! And I, too, would love to see more explicit domination of little Salim by the much larger Preetha like face-sitting (as suggested by Anonymous ID : e4d148) ! Another important point is raised by Anonymous (ID: 946d1d) “could Salim’s penis be a little smaller considering his nutrition, ethnicity and age”! In summary, I am thrilled and greatly enjoying this erotic masterpiece and also enjoying the lovely comments of discerning and admiring fellow admirers :) I join them to say “Cheers ! Cheers !” to the author :)
Thanks for your kind comments, although there are some weird rules for this page, I believe healthy discussion regarding the stories which are written and drawn with care and maturity can only help the author to be encouraged and go the extra mile for fan following. Without appreciation and in depth discussion this remains a thankless endeavor since I have nothing to gain from this except entertaining like minded people. So some extra words of support and discussions are always welcome and it really helps, trust me. Regarding Salim's cock size, I would like to point out nutrition and ethnicity doesn't have much regarding size of penis. Salim is around 15 years of age and at this juncture of puberty penis is almost fully grown. I had mentioned in the story his size of penis is around 5 inches, if I make it any smaller then it won't be able to pleasure a woman of Preetha's size. However, keep commenting, posting and suggesting. I cannot add any hardcore domination as the relationship between them won't justify that. I have included soft domination and might add more in later phases of the story but at this juncture adding and hardcore femdom like face-sitting won't justify the logic. Can't stuff everything in the first night itself as the story progresses I can explore other things for sure. However armpit is something you can look out for very soon.
you deserve a medal my hero! can't wait for the incoming of this beautiful story
the only thing i really wish you draw is to make the boy even younger, like 10 years old instead of 15, i really like the idea of straight shota age of 5-10 with older big breast hairy moms! please make this ! maybe a abnormal family incest? mom,dad,10yo son or two sons and mom? thanks
>>28390You are a fucking legend!
With warm respects to the administrators and moderators of the page and its rules, may I humbly add my views !
My submission to the author is that you genuinely deserve the accolades that are pouring in ! You are right in mentioning that an author thrives on the kind appreciation and encouragement of the admiring and discerning readers ! Ha ha, I appreciate your jovial comment that any penis smaller than that of Salim won’t be able to pleasure a woman of Preetha’s size ! She is indeed pretty statuesque and very powerfully built, which I like the most in a woman, apart from her beauty and charm ! Preetha (and, in that way, Sutapa too) possess both of these ! Also, I understand your viewpoint that all facets of sexual play cannot be explored in their very first night together. Hardcore domination (viz. face-sitting) between sexual partners can happen (if at all) when the mental bonding and mutual dependence between them deepens and their sexual relationship becomes profound, deep-rooted and more elaborate ! Let us hope for such hardcore domination later ! However, please do continue with Preetha’s natural soft domination, both physical and psychological, over Salim along with Preetha’s erotic "naughty" foreplay in the forthcoming instalments of this story !
Can I humbly lay down an idea in this regard ! Preetha lives in an expensive apartment complex and all such expensive residential complexes invariably have a gym. The ladies section of the gym normally remains deserted. Since Preetha has found a new meaning in life with Salim, she may now like to reduce her flab and regain her athletism by using the gym facility. This is not unexpected of her as she is a very determined and confident type of girl. She may start working out, taking Salim along as her companion and “towel boy” where little Salim would be witness to her great physical superiority and considerable strength. This would contribute to Salim’s further submissiveness and docility towards Preetha in their evolving relationship, facilitating her dominant role. Of course, it is just idea which needs your kind endorsement.
Oh, by the way, I simply loved your translation of the famous Tagore song :)
When can we look forward to the next instalment of the story, sir ? In a month’s time, or more ?
this post deserve a golden medal,please dont stop!
No more continuation for this mesmerising story (or, other outstanding stories) from you ?
I was re-reading this absorbing story. At one point, we see Preetha confide to Salim " .... just two other men has seen me in my life like this".
One was her husband Ayan. Who could be the other person ? I am intrigued !
Can you please give a hint !
I think you have abandoned "7chan" and posting your stories on some other forum !
Please provide us the latest link to your stories or else, please respond to this post ! It has been months since we last heard from your magic pen :)
Such prolonged delay is very painful for us and robs us of emotional involvement in the story !
Preetha pulled herself up, Salim was still eager to cuddle more, but the Satin nightgown was feeling like a burden on her body. She wanted to feel the boy with all her body, there shouldn’t be even a thread between them. Salim was a bit puzzled as she rose on the bed on her knees and slid out of the flimsy material. ‘Mom, I am sorry; I soiled your beautiful dress with that white stuff that came out of my pee pee.’ He said apologetically. Preetha chuckled and said ‘Don’t worry about it, it will wash off but it might leave some stains. I don’t mind that at all, it will be the sweet memory of your first cum.’
‘Cum?’ Salim asked quizzically. Preetha slumped back on the bed, relaxed as Salim huddled against her, pressing himself tightly to her warm voluptuousness. With half closed eyes Preetha smiled, enjoying the feel of his small body curling up to her. She caressed his hair as he looked at her with inquisitive eyes.
‘That thing you released from your pee pee is called cum. Actually it is called sperm but I will call it my baby’s milk. You know, when this milk goes inside a girl’s pee pee babies are made.’
‘Ha ha…’ Salim laughed innocently, ‘So my milk can make a baby inside your belly? I drank your milk, so it means I will have a baby inside my belly?’
‘HAHAHHA…’ Preetha laughed and giggled, such silly weird questions, but she loved them. ‘No, she said, only girls can make babies inside their belly. If I drink your milk, no babies…but if your milk goes inside Mommy’s love pot a baby might get cooked up inside.’
Salim was amazed by this information. ‘Mommy’s milk, my milk. Mom, tell me does my milk taste as good as yours?’
‘Ummm…’ Preetha mock pondered for a while and then said ‘Actually, most boy milks are a bit salty and sticky like gum you know. But I am sure your milk will be very tasty. I am going to have it for sure.’
‘Okay..’, Salim said fondling her huge breasts playfully, ‘But You drained out all of my milk, can I have some of yours, so that I can make my milk?’
Preetha sighed and stretched a little, Salim slid up and rested his head on her arm, as she wrapped him lightly, Salim got a whiff of her armpit, the smell raced up his heart.
‘You never have to ask for Mommy’s milk. It’s always there for you.’ She purred in his ear.
Salim slid down a bit and took the nipple of her left breast in his mouth, a lick suck followed by a stronger one as Preetha’s breast squirted milk in his eager mouth. Salim had food hardly half an hour ago, but there was always space in his stomach for his mother’s delicious milk, he was getting addicted to it. Preetha released a sigh of relief as she felt her breast getting drained once again by Salim’s hungry mouth. It was such a beautiful divine feeling, her head was swimming, the Vodka she had was taking its effect. She had too many drinks that day, and she felt drunk, with alcohol and also physical fulfillment.
Preetha was almost losing her senses, sleep was overcoming her from the comfort as she was brought back by the touch of Salim’s hand on her cheek. Salim turned her face towards him looking into her eyes as he drank from her breast, milk was spilling out on her boobs from the corners of his clamped mouth, there was just too much milk inside her. Preetha smiled at him, Salim wanted to see his mother’s beautiful face as he drank from her, and looking at her blissful smile he felt elated.
Salim gasped with a mouthful of Preetha’s milk as it dripped on her chest, he felt like he was swimming in an ocean of milk. Preetha caressed his hair lovingly. ‘Easy baby…easy’ she whispered.
Right then Salim did something unexpected, he slid up on her body and spat some milk on her mouth. Preetha clamped her lips, and grimaced, she didn’t like the taste of her own milk and she was startled by Salim’s sudden whimsical action. ‘Mmmm…what are you doing?’ Preetha exclaimed with her milk wet lips.
‘I want to share milk with mommy…’ Salim said breathlessly, Preetha could smell the faint whiff of her milk in his breath. Coming from his mouth it smelled sweet. ‘Come, I will taste it from your mouth baby.’ Preetha said and Salim obediently opened his mouth, Preetha explored the taste of his mouth with her tongue, Salim sucked on her tongue as well. Preetha could feel the shyness going away from Salim, he was becoming bolder in this game of love. Salim was kissing and licking her continuously, Preetha relented but there was no stopping him. He got up and cradled her head in his left hand and lifted her chin. He clamped his mouth on her and started kissing audaciously, his tongue and lips almost ploughing her face. Preetha felt as if her body was going limp, there was no strength left in her as she surrendered to the boy’s demands. He licked and sucked voraciously, her lips, her chin, the tip of his tongue fluttered on the mole below the corner of her lower lip.
Salim jumped on her, wrapping his thin arms around her thick girth, his weight cushioned by her huge breasts. He softly bit her neck and licked all across the length. Preetha moaned loudly throwing back her head, enjoying the feel of his tongue on her sensitive parts. Her neck and lower part of her face had become glistening wet and reeking of his saliva. ‘Aaaahhh…baby…’ Preetha gasped, ‘Don’t you want more of Mommy’s milk?’ She uttered with quivering voice.
‘I want, I want…I want more of Mommy…I want everything Mommy has. You are so beautiful, I feel like eating you up!’ Salim said aggressively. He grabbed her left breast again and sucked hard, squeezing out milk. ‘Ahhh…not so hard!’ Preetha squealed. ‘Just suck it lightly; Mommy will squeeze out milk for baby.’ She said. Preetha grabbed her left nipple and started lactating in Salim’s clamped mouth. Preetha felt her right boob was still heaving with milk, he hadn’t touched it. ‘Don’t you want milk from Mommy’s other boobie?’ Preetha asked, Salim just shook his head, he was intoxicated by her milk, and it doesn’t matter from which boob he fed from. Preetha didn’t want to interrupt his enjoyment and squeezed her right nipple, hot white milk squirted out with the slightest touch. It was so full that the milk sprayed up in the air drenching both Salim and Preetha. Preetha realized she was making a mess of the bed, but she didn’t bother at all. Salim looked at the fountain of milk and smiled. He lifted his face and cought some of the milk in mid air with his open mouth. It was so much fun!
Both of them had become wet with milk and as it started drying off it was becoming sticky and released a smell. Preetha was about to wipe herself with the bedsheet but Salim pleaded her not to.
‘No Mommy let it be! It feels so wonderful as if I am wearing your essence’.
‘But it is getting sticky!’ Preetha exclaimed.
‘let it be Mommy, I will lick it clean for you.’
Preetha laughed inwardly. ‘There’s just too much baby, I think we need another shower, see it reached up till my feet! Mommy made such a mess of herself’
‘I will clean it all.’ Salim said determined. Preetha sighed with a smile and relented, Salim was not to be argued with, and she actually liked how he was slowly taking charge. She laid back and relaxed as Salim went down to her feet.
‘This was so apt,’ Salim thought, ‘A Goddess had to be worshipped from her feet.’ He brushed his lips on her milk wet feet. His lips fluttered in rapid small kisses all over her toes, flicking his tongue over the milk droplets. Prretha shivered. He proceeded upwards, her ankles, her long well rounded shins, her knees and further up. Salim marveled how smooth and soft his new mother’s skin was. She was practically hairless all over her body except her special zones, where there was an abundance of growth. Salim moved further up planting kisses on her massive fleshy thighs, he marveled how each thigh was almost equal of his torso’s girth. Preetha felt a shiver from her toes to her arms, goosebumps were popping all over, and her vagina felt as it was burning up from inside and spreading a hot glow all within her belly. She sighed and moaned softly. Salim was further encouraged by her sound. He was about to explore her nether region as Preetha blurted out ‘No, not there…not now…I will tell you when to!’ she gasped almost breathlessly.
Salim wriggled up and continued kissing from her belly, the soft warm flesh responded by quaking uncontrollably. It was so soft, like a huge mound of well kneaded dough. He licked her belly, tracing the tip of his tongue around her navel in a circular motion, and poked it in the fleshy hollow. Preetha’s stomach clenched with that sensation than ran all through her abdomen, her abdominal muscles stiffened and loosened in rhythmic motions. Salim opened his mouth wide and sucked on the pulpy flesh of her belly, his cheeks hollowing with each pull and releasing a sound, Preetha giggled uncontrollably. In some time her belly was glistening moist with Salim’s drool and releasing a faint smell of his saliva on her skin. Preetha breathed in deep enjoying the smell of his spit all over her belly, she smelled something else as well, and it was coming from between her thighs. Her vagina had started leaking juices uncontrollably and was releasing the stench of her womanhood and it didn’t escape Salim’s notice as well.
‘Mommy, there’s a smell coming from your pee pee place…’ he exclaimed, experiencing something new. Preetha gulped and licked her lips, her eyes were closed, ‘That’s Mommy’s love smell baby. When a girl is loved she releases juices from her love pot, it is the smell of those juices. Don’t you like it sweetheart?’ She asked.
‘I love it Mommy, your pee pee place…’
‘No, call it my Love pot.’
‘Okay, your love pot is like a garden mommy…see so much hair…’ he started playing with Preetha’s pubic hairs with fascination, running his fingers through them, feeling the silky, moist texture of her growth, he pulled a little on the tufts, lightly, careful not to hurt her the slightest ‘I see a Flower in the garden, it is bright and pink, like a lotus and it is releasing that smell.’ He said poetically, Preetha wondered how he could speak so sweetly, a boy without any conventional education.
Preetha parted her legs slightly; it was a silent invitation to Salim and he didn’t make any mistake understanding, some things are ingrained in our genes, and you need not be told what to do. Salim nestled comfortably between her legs and continued his exploration of womanhood. He was getting too excited by the newness of this experience; a woman was so different physically from a man. His nimble fingers trailed all over her bush, feeling the soft moist fur, pulling and rubbing the hairs between his fingers. There was a gleam of amazement in his eyes like an explorer treading in uncharted territories. Preetha on the other hand was too overwhelmed with fervor, she kept her eyes closed. The subconscious shame of not able to control the urges of her body and letting an underage boy touch her like that with no inhibitions stopped her from looking. Her body trembled, goosebumps popping all over her skin. He hadn’t yet touched her vagina and she was creaming all over.
Finally Salim’s shaking fingers touched her glistening wet vulva and Preetha squirmed uncontrollably. ‘No…no…’ she gasped – ‘You will not touch me like that with your hands.’ She cried out. ‘Use your lips and tongue, use your mouth, but not your hands.’
Salim was taken aback a little but he didn’t have the nerve to disobey his new mother. Her vagina was pulsating, trickles of juices were rolling down the fleshy folds and congealing on the white sheet. He wondered how it would taste. The overpowering musty smell was a little lewd and slightly offensive but Salim was drawn to it uncontrollably. With wide open eyes and flushed cheeks he dipped his head between her thighs, he opened his mouth, which was an inch away from her throbbing organ and hesitated for a second.
Preetha felt a tremor inside her body as Salim’s warm breath brushed on her pussy. She shut her eyes tight and uttered breathlessly. ‘Come baby…please…’
Salim could not ignore this call, and his mouth clamped on her labia as Preetha released a loud moan. Whatever they have been doing the whole afternoon and evening had heightened her desire to a peak, and she never touched her nether region all this while. Salim had come twice so far but she didn’t have any release, and now her passion had reached a crescendo.
‘AAAAAHH…’Preetha was loud, very loud, if it not for the storm and rain outside her moan could have been heard by the neighbors as well. Salim was fazed for a moment by her strong reaction but he understood it was a cry of pure unadulterated pleasure and passion. His mouth continued working on her vagina, his lips nibbling the fleshy folds of her labia as his tongue flickered on the inside walls. His tongue was rubbing right over the area where her bartholin glands were and they started discharging fluids copiously. Preetha’s whole body was throbbing with pleasure as her crotch was becoming moist to the degree of being dripping slimy from her discharges and Salim’s saliva.
Preetha grabbed the flesh of her lower belly and pulled it upwards to give Salim complete access to her vagina as he went on tirelessly worshipping the fleshy flower of the female with his mouth as it dripped honey in plentiful as reward. In the beginning the slightly salty taste of her vagina was a little overpowering for Salim but as he went on tasting it he found the juices of this incredibly beautiful grown up woman strangely addictive. These were secretes of a woman in her prime, both in health and sexuality and by grace of God Salim was fortunate enough to taste it copiously.
Preetha was slowly nearing the climax, but she wanted to prolong it, she caressed Salim’s head, encouraging him, sometimes grabbing his silky tufts tightly as pleasure pulsed through her vagina and deep through her urethra all the way to her womb. She lifted her large heavy breasts and was surprised to see they were lactating spontaneously, pearly white milk drops rolling down her boobs.
The rain had ceased for half an hour but miraculously as if responding to their passion thunder struck again and it started pouring. This rain was as intense and emotional as the couple inside the room. Both newfound mother and son prayed this night never end, this ocean of love should be infinite and fathomless. There were no words to explain the coils of intimacy and pleasure that bound them together, they were cocooned inside a pupa of love, passion and pleasure. Salim had found a hidden chest of treasure between his mother’s massive thighs as her flesh trembled with each stimulation his young mouth gave her.
Finally it became too unbearable for Preetha, shamelessly she lifted her legs and held her ankles, spreading and exposing herself completely in front of the young boy. Salim had also become desperate his tongue fluttered frantically inside the oozing folds, trailing a long slimy track all up and down her perineum, the fleshy line going down from her vagina to her anus. Preetha shut her eyes tight and bit her lips as she felt Salim’s tongue on her anus, poking the tight hole with the tip and smearing it with his spit. It was so embarrassing and lewd. No one has ever done this to her before; Ayan even declined to ever go down on her as he found it repulsive. This boy on the other hand worshipped every part of her body like it was his sacred duty. The final moment was near, nearer than she could expect as she suddenly felt a cramp all over her inner thighs and lower abdomen.
This cramp was not painful, it released immediately and then clenched again, and then released and then clenched over and over spasmodically. This was an orgasm, Preetha understood…but an orgasm unlike any other. Preetha had always been a highly sexual girl, she enjoyed sex with Ayan and often had orgasms, but this was way different, it was the orgasm to end all orgasms. Her whole body trembled as Preetha desperately held on to her ankles, crying out loud with every spasm. All this while during oral stimulation by Salim her Skene glands had been filling up with female ejaculates, the fluid of bliss which is called Amrit in Kamasutra. Preetha had been suppressing the release all this while unknowingly until it had become unbearable and the skein glands were pumped to the point of bursting out. The final stimulation of her anus however threw her off the edge and she lost control of her organs and there was no holding back her release.
Quarts of ejaculate fluids shot out from the skene glands through her urethra and she came as there was no tomorrow. Salim was shocked as he cringed back witnessing the shower of semi milky liquids exploding from her vagina. Preetha cried out screaming and shaking uncontrollably as her pussy pulsated and gushed out the nectar of her sex. Her body was undergoing unknown sensations as she squirted and squirted, drenching Salim and the sheets between her thighs, she was pouring out like the rains outside. Recovering from the initial shock Salim immediately lowered his open mouth to get a taste of the fresh bubbling hot juices of his mother and he gulped it down in mouthfuls, satisfaction shined in his eyes. ‘Mom…this is so beautiful, it is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen in my life! Aahh (gulp) the taste is divine…I love you mom…I love you!’ he went on saying encouraging words as Preetha came and came, finally the spasms subsided and the last few squirts splashed inside Salim’s gaping mouth. Preetha was gasping and crying from the intensity of this immense orgasm.
my hero, thank you for coming back! wow reading the story while watching the pictures are the most erotic thing i saw in my life! well done!
i love her public hair! please add alot of armpit hair licking scene! maybe sex too!
As Preetha slowly regained her senses and her labored breathing subsided, she could feel Salim toying with her pussy, marveling at the puddle she had created on the sheets; her thighs were wet as well. A smell permeated all over the room. It was a smell of pure unadulterated passion and love. She pulled Salim to her, she needed some rest and her vagina was feeling too sensitive to be touched at this moment. ‘Enough, come here…rest with me for a while.’
Salim got up and nestled towards her, his fingers still caressing the bushy moist wetness of her crotch.
‘Look what a mess you have made Mommy…’ he quipped mischievously. He relaxed beside her, head resting on his hand as Preetha curiously trailed her fingers on her hot pussy which was almost releasing a vapor, her juices were smeared on her fingers as she pulled them up and inspected. The liquid was semi clear and gooey in consistency, like clear thin gum.
‘My God, what is this? It never happened to me like this before.’ She wondered aloud. Salim looked at her dripping fingers and said ‘It is your love Mommy, you gifted me with the love of your body.’
Preetha pulled him closer and they kissed passionately, it was a kiss of relief, Preetha’s skin was warm with the afterglow and they held each other, peaceful silence covered them like a warm blanket.
Preetha was feeling almost lifeless, her insides were still throbbing from the intense release, her muscles were feeling numb and sapped off any strength. Salim lifted himself on his elbows and whispered to her softly ‘Mommy, please hold me, I just want to cuddle with you for a while. I want to talk to you, please don’t fall asleep.’