The following is a fictional story about sexual relationship between a mother and son, both aged above 18 years. The characters and the events in the story are imaginary and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.
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Sonali Menon, 45 years old, mother of 20 year old Kamal was alone and horny. Her husband, Vasu Menon was happy working in the Gulf, earning good money, visiting home once or twice in a year, pumping his wife for a week or so and catching his flight back to work again. Everytime Vasu left, Sonali's cunt began throbbing more. The shy housewife, never came out of her inhibitions to tell her husband to do things different rather than pinning her on the bed and fucking her mechanically. She wanted to ride her husband's dick and liked to try doggy-style. But, Vasu never gave her the space to let him know her inner desires. He just wanted to empty his load inside her pussy and believed that his wife was content with whatever sex he gave.
'Stupid oldman,' Sonali used to curse her husband while cleaning up her messed up pussy after the supposed fucking. 'Doesn't even kiss me after making out. His penis feels like a rotten carrot in my pussy. My usual cucumber does better.'
All these years she had managed to keep her emotions to herself by managing the house and attending to the daily chores. But, while alone, she began lambasting her helpless position and missing sex in life.
'What am I going to do with so much of money? I don't have even someone to talk to me. My son is busy at work and hardly bothers to spend time with me. What do I do, sitting alone at home, watching stupid soaps on the TV and rubbing my clit every now and then to please myself?'
Kamal, Sonali's son had a set of his own routines. After returning home, he used to take a quick shower, finish off his dinner in a flash, rush to his room and spend time hooking onto the internet. He disliked even his parents getting into his room and called it 'invasion of privacy.' Whenver Sonali asked him to spend some time with him, he never refused but kept returning home late in the night. Knowing her son's nature, Sonali couldn't gather the courage to knock his doors, step into his room and have a chat with him.
"Just go out and do some shopping," Kamal once had told Sonali. "We have some nice neighbors; good friends. Why don't you mingle with them?"
Sonali knew he was right. But she had several reasons not to mingle with her friends. Some of them lived with their husbands and more often than not, the conversations stumbled towards sex. Some friends had some sleazy affairs, even with teenagers. Moreover, Sonali hated venturing out simply because she couldn't withstand seeing men glaring at her huge breasts and big ass. The way some men used to stare at her kindled her lust and she felt vulnerable.
Sonali was born and brought up in a small hamlet always looked gorgeous in whatever outfit she wore. She knew men can't take off their eyes while she sported the traditional 'Kasavu Mundu', she looked equally explosive wearing well-pressed cotton sarees, partially exposing her hip folds, stomach and her sharp left breast covered with blouse. Even young men had a crush which she gauged and felt uncomfortable. Her ability to arouse young men never made her proud because it only added to her sexual frustration.
A few days ago, Sonali watched a boy from the neighborhood scaling over the walls of her house. She knew that boys normally play cricket on the steets and occasionally the ball used to drop inside her compound. But soon she realized that the boy's motive was different. He walked towards the side of her house where she had hung the washed clothes for drying. Even before Sonali could comprehend what was happening, the youngster swiftly pulled one of her bras, ran fast, scaled over the wall and vanished.
Sonali was stunned. But she was in for another rude shock. Immediately after the youngster vanished with her bra, she immediately saw him on the adjacent balcony where he stayed. As Sonali watched puzzled, the young man quickly pulled down his boxers, wrapped his dick with Sonali's bra and began masturbating in full view. Sonali rushed inside the living room, sat on the sofa and took a deep breath. 'What a pervert!'
Sonali's anger lasted till evening before she went for her usual shower. Standing naked under the cool water, she began rewinding the events that unfolded in the afternoon. She faintly recollected the image of the neighbor boy masturbating with her bra wrapped around his dick. She immediately felt a tinge in her pussy. She felt although a pair of hands were grabbing and squeezing her breasts; a eager mouth licking her pussy; a throbbing dick diving in and out of her pussy. Is that how young men fantasize about women? Is that how even her son might fantasize, if at all he too masturbates?
After bathing, Sonali stood naked in front of the mirror for a few minutes admiring her own image. 'Not bad a woman in the mid-forties,' She thought. Although she prefers to wear a loose nightie in the nights, something took over her mind and she wrapped her body with a kasavu mundu. (Kasavu Mundu -- a traditional female outfit popular in the southern state of Kerala. It is a set of long pieces of cloth drapped around the body with a blouse of a different color) She let her long hair loose with just a knot in the bottom. The sense of disgust about the boy had vanished like magic, for the time at least. 'Boys are boys. When harmones rush they hardly know what they do,' She told herself.
Kamal, her son returned well past ten in the night and Sonali wasn't upset with him. As the handsome youngman went through his night routines, Sonali kept watching at him every now and then. Suddenly, the strange question rebounded on her mind.
'Does Kamal fantasize about any woman?'
Kamal quickly finished off his dinner and moved into his room. Sonali didn't know that her son was surprised about her attire, something unusual in the night. Kamal also had noticed his mom occasionally glancing at him in a way like never before. He felt something fishy. After struggling to sleep for a while, Kamal got up, came back to the living room, switched on the TV and began watching some stupid sitcom. He had just one question arising again and again in his mind.
'What the hell happened to mom?'
It was well-past midnight and Kamal began sleeping in the living room after switching off the TV. But soon he was awake hearing some stray dogs barking on the street. He stood up and began walking towards his room but as he was passing through Sonali's room he suddenly stopped.
Kamal heard some peculiar sounds from his mom's room, as though she was in some pain or distress. He gently pushed the door and was shell-shocked to see what was going on inside the room.
Sonali's clothes were in a heap on the floor. She was naked on the bed with her legs spread wide apart. Holding a huge long carrot tightly wrapped in a polythene cover, she was gently rubbing the sharper tip against her cunt. Kamal's eyes widened as Sonali began shoving her indigenous dildo in and out of her cunt. After a few minutes, Kamal's shock was replaced by a tremendous arousal. He was seeing his beautiful mother naked for the very first time and that too masturbating. The sight of his gorgeous mother probing her pussy with some vegetable was too hot for Kamal to handle. As he kept watching, her moans became louder so much so that Kamal feard their neighbors might hear her. He could feel a series of tremors between his legs and before he could realise he had a bulge as big as a tennis ball on his trouser.
