Loving Desi Mom

I knew I was in trouble as soon as I walked into the house and saw Auntie Khursheed sitting with my mom. They seemed busy with some serious conversation and their mood looked quite unhappy. I knew the conversation must have been about me because as soon as they realized I was in the house, they both went silent. They must have been talking about the incident earlier with my cousin Seema, who is Auntie Khursheed's daughter. Seema must have told Auntie about what happened, and Auntie was there to complain to my mom about what I had done.

It was a serious incident, although I didn't think Seema would escalate it to our parents. I was wrong, apparently, as there was Auntie Khursheed with my mom, and now the incident had blown up to the level where I was going to be in big trouble. I don't know what kind of trouble, but trouble, nevertheless. At the very least, a lot of embarrassment for me and for my parents.

It was lunchtime and my mom was making rotis for us. I had come home to eat lunch and go back to the fields to continue working on our farm. I went to our water pump to freshen up and stay away from them until Auntie left. It would be better if I faced my mom alone, and without Auntie there. At least any tongue lashing that I got would be without any witnesses. It would be easier that way to get through the scolding.

When I came back, I saw Auntie going up the stairs to our roof. Our houses are connected by a shared wall, in a typical Pakistani village style, and Auntie went to our roof, which was connected to her roof, and then to the stairs going down to her house. It was easier for the two sisters to go back and forth, without having to go out of the house and then knock on our door. This was a more discrete method of going back and forth between the two households.

My mom dished my lunch and as I was eating, I waited for her questions and her admonishment. But she said nothing. I finished the meal, put the dishes away, and then left to go back to the fields, but she said nothing, and she asked me nothing. I was confused.

Of course, she wanted to time her questions better. I think she knew I had plenty of work to do, especially to bring the food for the animals. She didn't want to disturb my routine. I did all my chores, brought the animals to their part of our house, fed them, and then went to shower and clean up. Once I finished my dinner, and was having my evening tea, that's when she brought up the subject.

She asked, "So, what happened today with Seema?"

I was encouraged by the fact that her voice was low, as if she didn't want anyone else to hear our conversation. I didn't expect her to be so cautious. I expected her to just blow her top and yell at me. Instead, she was asking in a very low-key way, as to what happened. I had made up all these excuses and defences, but she wasn't asking for any of them.

I knew it would be difficult to say what had happened, but I felt bold enough to just tell her the truth, "I was stupid, mom. I asked her..." I had to stop and think before finishing my thought, but I went with it. Afterall, what is the worst that could happen. I continued, "...I asked her to show me her breasts."

I guess she wasn't ready for my confession, so she had no follow up questions. She was quiet for a while, then she whispered, "You know, your Auntie is upset."

"Yes, I know, and if you want, I'll apologize to her and to Seema. I am sorry for what I said."

I guess she accepted my apology and went on with the clean-up and other things she had to finish. I felt relieved, even a bit excited. I had escaped any consequences for my crass behaviour. Who knew that telling the truth would be kind of liberating?!

Early next morning, as I was eating my breakfast of parathas and mango achaar with tea, I noticed she was lost in thought. I didn't want to pry, so I just ate in silence. I was halfway through my cup of tea, when she cleared her throat and asked in a lowered voice, "Can I ask you something?"

I realized then that her lowered voice meant she was trying to keep our conversation rather confidential. It meant that she was curious and not angry about something, and her question was going to be about me revealing some secret, instead of her lecturing me, again, I guess about the incident with Seema.

"Yes, go ahead." I also whispered back, just to make our conversation somewhat conspiratorial.

She paused for a while, then took a deep breath, and asked me the following question: "Why did you want to see Seema's breasts?"

I almost laughed. That seemed like a silly question. I mean it should have been obvious as to why I wanted to see Seema's breasts. But, I guess, she wanted to hear from me directly, as to not leave any lingering doubt.

I also paused for a short while before answering her. "She has very nice breasts and I just wanted to see them."

I couldn't help but notice that her glance went to her own breasts as I told her that Seema has nice breasts. That was very curious for me. I wondered as to why she would look at her own breasts when I praised another woman's breasts. It was such a reflective reaction that it intrigued me. I don't know if she noticed that I saw her glance down at her chest, but I did see it.

For whatever reason, I felt relieved. I knew that there wasn't going to be any admonishment. She wasn't going to yell at me or tell me off. We were on a totally different plane.

Again, as is our routine, that evening, after my shower and dinner, and while I was having my tea, she spoke in that all too familiar whisper, "Can I ask you something more?"

"Yes, mom, go ahead."

"What did you expect Seema to do? Did you expect her to just life her shirt and expose herself to you?"

"Well, it sounds kind of stupid now that I hear it said the way you just said it. I honestly don't know what I expected from her. I just wanted to ask. I had no idea what was to come next. I actually expected her to get upset, which I guess she did."

"If you expected her to get upset, then why did you even bother to ask?"

"Wishful thinking, I guess. If there was even a tiny chance that she would say yes, I wanted to at least try."

Again, our conversation ended there. Next morning, during my paratha and achaar breakfast with tea, I expected another question from her. By now I had become quite comfortable with the conversation and was at ease with my answers.

She asked, in that same lowered, conspiratorial voice, "Is Seema the only one? Or do you have someone else in mind, who maybe more willing than her?"

A lantern lit in my brain. At first it was just a flicker of light, but as I sipped my tea, and thought about her question, the flame grew. I felt my blood rush and my breathing become stronger as I realized the possibility of what maybe going on. I had to give the right answer that she was looking for, and I had to choose my words carefully. Oh, God, I was feeling weirdly excited, just imagining the likelihood of what may be sitting in front of me.

My answer came in stutters. I had to say what I thought was the most appropriate answer, but the consequences of saying the words that were in my mind were undefined. Anything was possible.

"There's...," I stalled at that word, then took a deep breath. I am sure she must have noticed my nervousness. I was nervous. I was not sure how my words were going to go across. I took another deep breath and continued, "...there's only one other person...," I felt my mouth dry and my throat all stuffed. I almost decided not to continue.

"Yes, I am listening," she said, and she was listening. She was very attentive.

I took a few deep breaths to try to calm myself down. I had to now finish saying what I had started, and that gave me some courage. I collected my thoughts, and then blurted them out, "There is only one other person, who I think has much nicer looking breasts than Seema. I just don't know if I can ever ask her. It would probably be a lot more inappropriate than asking Seema."

"Who is that person?" Her question came out almost instantly after I finished my sentence.

I looked at her deep. She seemed eager to know the answer and I understood that she wanted it to be a certain answer. She looked back at me with anticipation. I paused long enough to build the suspense and then I told her, "You!"

"Me?!" She sounded surprised. I don't know why? I thought that was the answer she wanted to hear. Maybe I was wrong!

"Yes, it is you. You have breasts that are much nicer than Seema, but I can't really ask you to show your breasts to me, now, can I?"

She was quiet. She didn't say anything. The silence lasted for quite a while. Eventually I decided to get up and go to the fields to do my work. It was a long day, as I wanted to get back to our moments together. I was expecting, I was hoping, I was wishing for our conversation to continue. It didn't.

The following morning, again towards the end of my breakfast, she spoke to me in those now all too familiar whispers. "Tell me, how would we do it?"

I was a bit confused. I didn't know what she was talking about. "How would we do what?" I asked, with my voice lowered as well.

"You said that you want to ask me to show you my breasts...," she looked at me to see if I was going to disagree with her statement. I almost denied her comment.

She continued after a short pause and after gazing into my eyes. "...if I were to agree to show them to you, how would we do it?"

My heart jumped into my throat at the sudden realization of what was actually happening. It was once in a lifetime moment. I swallowed hard as the words were just stuck in my throat. I looked back into her eyes and with quivering lips mumbled, "What do you mean how would we do it? I mean, you would show them to me. Just like that, right?"

"No, I mean where would we do it? When would we do it?"

I took a few deep breaths. She could clearly see that I was totally unprepared for her willingness to do as she said she was agreeing to do.

Once my mind cleared a little, I composed myself and composed my answer, with some authority, as if I knew what I was talking about. I replied, "I think the best place to do it would be in the storage room. Nobody would see us there. The best time to do it would be after dinner, when we turn in for the night. Instead of sitting here, we could be there."

She whispered hurriedly, "Okay. Tonight then."

With that she gathered herself and went to her room. I quickly left the house, with my blood rushing through my veins at such an accelerated pace that I almost fainted on my way to the fields. I couldn't believe what had just transpired. My very own mother had agreed to show me her breasts. It was going to be tonight. Tonight, I was going to see some breasts. It was going to be my mother's breasts, but it was going to be breasts that I was going to see. Real, live, in the flesh breasts.

Needless to say, I accomplished nothing that day. I barely cut the food for the animals, as my hands were trembling with excitement. I couldn't wait for the day to end and see what was going to happen. I don't know how she spent her day, but I was in a daze.

That night, we ate in silence. When I finished my tea, she took the dishes away and whispered, "I'll be there soon." That was all the conversation that we had that evening.

I prepared a few lanterns for the storage room. I wanted to have plenty of light to see those breasts. I didn't want to miss any detail. I finally understood her question, "How would we do it?" It was a good question. How would we do it?

Would she sit on the charpai and I would stand, sit, kneel in front of her? Would she sit on the musallah, leaning back, and I would sit in front of her on the floor? Would she just stand, and I would stand in front of her? Would she just life her kamees up above her breasts, or would she take it off? God, I had no idea what to expect and how we were going to be. I did not know the answer as to how we would do it.

It seemed like an eternity before I finally heard her footsteps coming towards the storage room. She did come, I had almost believed that it was just a dream, and she wasn't going to come through, but she did. Once she entered the room, she turned around to close the door and she put the latch up to lock it from inside so no one could surprise us by coming in and catching us doing what we were about to do.

I had the room well-lit, and I could see the worry on her face. She was so serious. I assumed it to be her nervousness. She was very nervous, as was I. We were both in an uncharted territory and didn't know how to navigate our trek through it.

She looked around the room and then turned to face me. "Where do you want me to be?" She asked.

I had no idea. I replied, "You can sit on the charpai if you like, or we can sit on the musallah, if that is better." I wanted her to make the decision and make it easy for me. I used the word we when talking about the musallah. I would have preferred her to sit there, and I could then sit in front of her. That would have been the closest for me to be near her.

To my relief, she picked the musallah. She sat on one end, and I took my place in front of her. I didn't really know what to do next. I just sat in front of her. She was sitting on her knees, her hands folded in her lap, looking at me with some anticipation. I was sitting in front of her, cross-legged, looking at her with my own anticipation.

She was undecided, so she didn't make any further move. Silence was thick. I finally had to encourage her by saying, "Okay, I am ready."

My words put some life into her arms. She reached with her hands to grab her kamees and slowly lifted it up. First thing I noticed was the top of her shalwar, as her naala became visible. Then her belly and her bellybutton. Then the top part of her stomach, and finally I saw her bra. It was a bit disappointing that I saw her bra and not her breasts. She kept pulling her kamees off of her until it became free of her head and her arms. It had turned inside out, so she first fixed it properly and put it to the side on the charpai. Then she fixed her hair that had become dishevelled by her kamees. He boobs flexed upward into a wonderful pose as she tied her hair into a ponytail. It was an incredible view. My first view of a half-naked woman. Her bare stomach seemed so sexy, so wonderful, so incredible. Her bare shoulders and arms looked amazing, and her breasts, even though they were still covered by her bra, were beautiful. She was beautiful. She looked very, very beautiful.

I became aware of this incredible erection between my legs. My breathing was equally hard and heavy. Her chest was heaving due to her own breathing being hard and heavy. I guess we both were equally excited. It was nice to know that there was something in it for her, and that she wasn't doing it just for me. But her breasts were still in her bra, and I still hadn't seen them.

Finally, she reached behind her back and slowly unhooked her bra. First, she removed the loop from her left shoulder, then from her right, while holding her bra on her boobs, making sure it didn't fall and accidently expose her. Then she held the bra cups with both of her hands covering her breasts, as she stared at me. She was looking at my reaction and she wanted to see my expressions as she slowly, slowly, very slowly, pulled the cups of her bra down and exposed her breasts to my wide-open eyes.

My first view of those plump, supple breasts was amazing. They looked amazing. Her nipples were hard and firm. I could see the goosebumps in the darker area around her nipples, and then the rest of her breasts standing so firm on her chest. Oh, I wanted to touch them. I wanted to hold them. I wanted to suck on her nipples as I had done those 21 odd years ago. But I just sat there, staring at her breasts with my mouth probably open a little and my eyes transfixed on her chest.

We sat there for a long while, until she started to put her bra back on. I just sat there numb, while she put her kamees back on. I just sat there, frozen, while she got up and left to go to her room. It took me a long while to come to my senses, and then the deep sense of disappointment when I found myself in an empty room. Needless to say, I had a very tough time falling asleep that night. My erection took a very, very long time to subside.

I ate my breakfast in silence. She had no words either. I went to do my chores without saying anything. She also said nothing. It felt so awkward.

That night was much better though. After I finished my dinner and during my tea, as it had become our routine, she whispered to me, "You haven't said anything after last night."

"I am speechless. I don't know what to say."

She seemed more relaxed than before. She was even smiling a little. Not so much as in the open, but more in her attitude. She seemed in control of the situation, now that we had gone through the process. "Well, did you like it?" She turned red, I could tell, after asking the question.

"Yes, I liked it very much."

"Was it everything that you had hoped for?" She was fishing for something.

"Yes, it was everything that I had hoped for...," I paused a little before adding, "...and more."

She was happy with my answer. I could tell.

She was quiet for a while, lost in her own thoughts, and then she finally asked some more, "So, what did you think of what you saw."

I knew she was fishing for something, and I decided to give it to her, "You have the most amazing breasts. They were even better than what I had expected them to be. I have never seen anything so beautiful."

She was clearly overjoyed at my gushing about her breasts. I saw the opportunity and I decided to take it, "I would like to see them again, if possible. I don't think I got enough last night. It went too quickly."

"Well, we can't be doing it too many times. I showed them to you once. That's all I thought you wanted, to see them once."

"Well, that's too bad. I would have loved to see them some more."

We stayed together a while longer, but in total silence, then I quietly got up and went to my room. I heard her putting the stuff away, and then her footsteps receded towards her own room.

I was quite surprised when she came to my room after a while. I was lying on my charpai feeling somewhat sad and quite literally jumped up when I saw her in my room.

She said, "I thought you would be in the storage room."

"I... I...," I stuttered, not knowing what the appropriate answer was. "I didn't know that's where you wanted me to be."

"Well, that's the place where you can see my breasts. Isn't that what we agreed upon?"

"Yes, yes..." I hurried out of the room. I had the whole setup intact from the night before. I lit the lanterns quickly and waited anxiously for her to show up. She did.

We were at ease this time. There was no outward nervousness. It seemed more natural for her to be on that musallah, sitting on her knees, lifting that kamees. To my utter surprise, she had no bra on this time and her boobs just popped out of her shirt and bounced up and down a little as they became free. She sat there, doing her hair, as her chest extended forward. I watched her, totally hypnotized by her pose.

Once she settled into her position, I felt a little bold and asked her to change her position. I asked her to sit with her legs extended outward, her arms extended behind her, leaning back on her hands, and her head leaning back as well. This protruded her breast forward and stood outward. Another incredible view.

I sat in front of her first, then I moved to her right side, then to her left side. I was checking her breasts out from different angles, and from each angle, they looked incredible. Oh God, I wanted to touch them so bad. I spent quite a while ogling her, with an erection that didn't subside the whole night, but I had to eventually let her go. She needed to get her sleep. I wasn't able to sleep, though; I spent the whole night tossing and turning.