What Will People Say Ch 03

Kanyakumari, Tamilnadu.

Southern tip of India.

It had been almost three months since Salim, my teenage son and I had moved out of our house in the suburbs. By then we were almost regularly having sex there. In the bathroom, where I used to bathe him ever since he was a kid, to the bedroom that I now shared with him and where I had lost my virginity to his father, to the kitchen where I used to cook and pack lunch for both my children during their school years, all the places which were once like home felt sullied as both my son and I made love without worry.

I had found out soon enough, and it honestly was something inevitable given how much I used to allow Salim to spurt his semen inside of me, that I was pregnant with his child. To my surprise he said he wanted it. Out of some insane erotic fantasy and sharing in his pleasure, I too agreed, despite knowing the problems that would arise, and we decided to move away for a while.

The coast wasn't our first option but I had found peace in the sound of the waves and the dirty sands as soon as I set foot in it. We had booked a room as a couple, despite the obvious age gap and ignored the questioning looks sent our way.

And so everyday for the past few months, we both stayed put in that room, watching our baby grow. It gave us time to adapt to our new reality. The reality of motherhood. I was reminded of the time when I was carrying Salim in my belly and cried at the petrifying knowledge that my son would be the father of the child I was carrying.

But more than me, it was Salim who had begun to grow aloof. Backing away to a corner, getting impossibly red whenever I tried to touch him or embrace him. He would wince as I called him "my lover". We had even stopped having sex for a while and I began to wonder if I had made some sort of horrendous and irreversible mistake.

Every morning, he would accompany me to the beach for a long walk, where I would wet my legs, taking in the exhilarating morning air and after we returned he would insist on bathing me and taking care of "our" baby.

We would sit naked, the both of us, on the wet bathroom floor. He would give considerable care when massaging my clitoris and pregnant belly when applying soap. I would beg for his sexual urge to rekindle with my eyes, my hands and he would only get shy. I felt like I was pushing him to go away. Far away.

'Come back to me. Please. Why are you distant?' he wouldn't reply. I would silently bring his large fingers to my vulva and breathe in happiness as he would probe me involuntarily letting me look as his cock grew and grew as I began to moan and shriek my beautiful son's name, making me grab his shoulders and gasp as I came in waves, gushing out fluids as my hormones elevated my orgasm, tears streaking for having this sexual escape with my dearest son. And he would look at his hand like they were covered in some sort of ugly sin. Looking at me with a newfound respectful outlook. Respect of a son for his mother or rather his pregnant mother.

I realised that it had become too real for him. He had never thought about having to be in this situation at all. While it had served both our fantasies, Salim had become lost and troubled with worry, as to how he was to take care of me in my state.

But he would not say this out aloud. He would always look at me and I could tell, after all I am his mother. I can tell what he is thinking and what he might do.

'It's not right.' he would say as I would spread myself for him, begging his familiar intrusion.

'It is fine. Please, why do you deny this? After having done what you did.'

'You're not in a state for such a thing, ammi.'

There were times when I would question myself a lot after we would make love, with my son's semen sloshing around in my belly, if this was really worth it. But when he finally decided to come back for more, I would barely attempt courage to deny him and lovingly invite him into me. But this was before I got pregnant.

'Do you feel we must stop, just because I'm now pregnant?'

'Yes. I could hurt both of you.'

'Is it just that, or are you feeling guilty? Is my pregnancy that much of a turn off for you, that you can barely look at your own mother?' I blasted him in my anger.

'You should rest, ammi.' he would respond to me like I was a patient in his care. And I would feel stupid for raising my voice.

In the nights, he would be more comfortable, sleeping beside me, cuddling against my body like he were still in school and I would feel for his hardness, poking against my back. The nights often were accompanied with power cuts, so we slept naked throughout and sweated profusely.

I would eventually gather courage to tell Salim to stay put as he would watch me slither down slowly on him and admire his erect penis. I felt I could get him to respond this way, remind him of a lost taste of his mother and slowly smother his cock with my mouth. Gradually awakening the sexual desire he had for me in him.

Beginning with long licks from beneath his shaft to the tip of his pink head, everytime I ran my tongue, he would twitch, sending beads of precum down into my waiting mouth. He could feel my discomfort at laying on my stomach and would growl as he would make me turn, falling into my vagina while letting me rest my face between his legs, his cock dangling in front of my lips that I grabbed at hungrily.

We would do this for the rest of the nights, studying our motions on our genitals, a son and a mother feeling each other in the cold darkness of the damp room. He would immediately withdraw his mouth when I wet his lips a bit too much, but I was having too much fun with my son. And he let me have it.

He would silently listen as I talked about the various recognizable moles on his penis's skin, from his childhood, recollecting all my innocent memories of the both of us bathing in our local ponds back in the villages. I could feel every tendril of his penis, his girth rise and ebb with my tongue's motion on it, wishing that I would not lose resolve like him and to somehow cajole my shy son back to have sex with me. His pregnant mother.

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The young woman, clad in a black burqa from head to toe with only miniscule slits in her veil for vision, walked into the hotel and inquired about a certain 'couple', which many people had mentioned in passing, to behave or appear quite 'abnormal'.

She had tried at several before arriving at this one. All the others had the same answer. That there was no one by the names of Salim and Arfa Khan, or anyone of that age.

But she was awarded on her latest effort when the receptionist recalled seeing them but their names were not the same. In fact, their names had been completely changed which confused the young woman to no end. But then thought maybe they had done so as they had been rejected by other hotels due to their names.

'And who might I know is asking?' the receptionist's question brought her back from her thoughts.

'I am her daughter,' she said.

The man looked up and down at her, and sighed, 'Name?'

'Inaya Khan.' she saw him scribble in his book and turned to her with a questioning look.

'Daughter you say...tell me, is your mother really so shameless that she goes around with a boy nearly half her age?'

Inaya didn't immediately correct him by saying that it was actually her brother and that he was the son of the woman, but instead patiently heard his rant about the 'collapsing' society even in the muslim community and reluctantly handed over their room number.

She went away as quietly as she had entered and searched the room number in silence, pondering over the mysterious behaviour of her family over the past few months. On a whim, she had decided it was a good time for a reconciliation with her mother now that 'abbu' was no longer in the picture.

Both her parents had been fairly disappointed that she had fallen in love with a Hindu doctor, her college mate, thus forcing her to elope with him to a distant place far from home and since then contact with her family had been minimal.

When she did come back, a few days ago, one of her neighbours had said that both her mother and brother had packed their stuff and left for an impromptu holiday, which to her sounded like bullshit as she knew ammi hated leaving the house for no good reason, let alone sightseeing. If she was apprehensive before, her curiosity was even more piqued when she heard they were in residence in this shabby hotel, near to the beaches and far away from the major city.

Their room was the farthest, the door ajar. Quite characteristic of her brother, whom she knew had the bad habit of not bothering to close doors. Inaya heard her mothers' voice humming from inside, causing her to smile at the familiar sound from her childhood and she walked into something which was quite inexplicable and life altering to her mind.

The hotel room was in an L shape, which started with a door, then immediately a bathroom on the left wall and further inside was the bedroom, beyond which were large see-through windows before a balcony overlooking a garden. Inaya's mother, Arfa was making herself comfortable by leaning against the bedrest which was touching the wall's end, by arranging pillows behind her back. Inaya would have helped her but seeing the visible baby bump on her mother's belly stopped her in her tracks and when the beaming mother-to-be looked up to see her eldest daughter staring at her naked body in shock, she froze.

Inaya instinctively took a step back, wondering whether she had stepped into the wrong room. Both mother and daughter turned to the flushing sound from the bathroom and where Salim exited, as naked as the day he was born, with his wet dick swinging around. He too stopped immediately when he saw the new person in the room and recognised his sister.

Inaya looked at both of them, her surprise turning to shock and horror by the second as the realisation hit her and with her mouth covered with her hands she began to slide down into the ground, her back noiselessly scraping against the wall. Salim acted quickly and turned to shut the door, just as a scream erupted from Inaya's throat.

'Inaya listen...please, stop screaming.' Salim begged and turned to Arfa who seemed to be reacting just as badly to her daughter's panic.

Inaya kept shaking her head, her palms clasped to her ears, refusing to listen to the outside world and wanting to forget whatever she had seen inside the room. But the images and their meaning never left and only gained more headspace as she tried more and more to forget about them.

After a while, she slowly looked to see her mother in the eye, 'What is this?'

Arfa was never more embarrassed and ashamed in her life than before, as she tried to answer something to which she herself had no idea about. Her silent tears proof of her growing awareness of the awkward and immoral situation.

'I...I can't clearly say...'

Salim intervened, 'You both need to calm down...'

'Salim, get out. Now!' Inaya barked to which the boy looked at his mother, who didn't even bother to look at her son. After dressing himself, he mentioned he would be right outside.

Mother and daughter stared intently at each other. Their glances spoke volumes. Outside the room, the day darkened as storm clouds were beginning to gather.

The door opened and Salim entered, saying it had begun to rain outside and it would be cruel to ask him to stay out.

'I brought some tea. Have some.' he handed out little plastic cups to his mother and his sister who was now staring vacantly at the rain outside the windows. She grabbed the cup and mutely drank its contents.

'Inaya, talk to me. Talk to your mother.'

'I can't. Not when he's around.' Inaya pointed to Salim who glared at her.

'Salim is your brother. And he has always been harmless. Please...just sit next to me.'

Inaya gave up, seeing her mother's face like that, and went next to her, sitting on the other end of her, while Salim sat on the other, both siblings being separated by their mother on each end.

'Do you realise how awful this is?' Inaya addressed her brother, 'having me seated next to ammi who's been impregnated by her own son and my kid brother? This is so vile.' Neither mother nor son had the gall to say anything against her.

'You used to be god-fearing.' Inaya turned to her mother, 'always going on about how "this is haram" or "that is haram" or how Allah-Taalah would not forgive us for sins...isn't this a fucking sin, ammi? Answer me! Don't just sit there, squeezing your stupid belly.'

'I was never treated like a human being by your father or his cleric friends, who kept preaching to me about 'holiness'. I think it's time I let my fate decide for myself. Sleeping with Salim...' Arfa caressed her son's forehead with motherly affection, making Inaya cringe, 'is probably the only time I felt in control of myself, dear.'

Inaya nodded her head, mocking a sort of understanding, 'And was getting pregnant by your son also your decision, or was it a sorry mistake of my brother's infamous horniness?'

Arfa's smile dropped and she looked down in shame. Salim gritted his teeth.

'You should go.' He said, knowing that he had absolutely no say over his sister, but he tried to remain intimidating and astute.

'Oh I'm sorry, am I making you feel uncomfortable?' Inaya sneered at him.

Inaya let her headcover from the burqa fall back to her shoulder to reveal her head and shook her head, smiling, 'Like you said, little brother, it's raining outside. Also, ammi...'

'I came here dressed in this burqa, so that I could ask for your forgiveness, for marrying someone I loved and someone who happened to be outside our community, our religion. Which was such a huge disappointment to you back then...but now I feel like a fool.'

'Inaya dear, I keep telling you. I was under the control of a dreadful man, there was no way I would've been able to back answer your father, let alone defend you. I never had a doubt about your decision, because I know of the daughter whom I had raised.'

With tears in her eyes, Inaya answered, 'Can't say the same for you. I don't even recognise the both of you.'

'Why is my love invalid, when yours isn't?'

Inaya lost it and yelled, 'That's because this isn't love...this is pure lust and though I hate saying this, it is a vocal act of blasphemy!'

The crash of thunder illuminated the darkening room, as the electricity went off and the three family members stood still in an unsettling silence after the outburst of emotions. Salim got up to retrieve a couple of candles from the cupboard and a while later, Inaya joined him silently to light them with her younger brother. Arfa smiled at the sight and looked out of the window as she began to fall asleep.

Both siblings were on the roof of the hotel, under a shade, on their knees and over prayer rugs as they diligently observed the evening prayer, while their minds were occupied by the presence of each other. After being done, Salim tried to slip away but was forced to talk when confronted by his older sister.

'How could you?'

'How could I what?' His sister's glare made him submit.

'Ok, ok. I will be honest. It was just lust, but as you can see, it has developed into something more serious.'

'You think? Your mother, 'our' mother is pregnant with your child. Her own son's child. What do you think will happen when you return? Will everything go back to normal?'

Salim felt his legs tremble in fear, 'I don't know what to say. I never said this was normal but I don't get why you're so upset...is it because I never did something similar with you...'

A tight slap across his cheeks from his sister, proved what he believed was wrong. He saw Inaya blistering with rage, her white cheeks turned red, and he looked down.

'Sorry. I shouldn't have said that.' Salim said, as Inaya bent down to retrieve her rug and tucked it under her arm as she was about to leave.

'But you can't deny that ammi is happy after a long time.'

Inaya scoffed at her brother's words, 'That's because she still loves you, and always will for whatever mistake you make, even something as mind boggling as fucking her and getting her pregnant, just because you are her son. You cannot convince me that you didn't take advantage of her situation, especially at a time when she was helpless.'

'I did what I did. And we agreed to have the baby. You can shout in anger all you want at me or ammi.'

Inaya left the terrace in a huff, desperately wanting to leave. To be rid of today's memory. But for some reason, she stayed. Praying almost for a sensible conclusion to this horrible nightmare.

It was now night and hours had passed since the siblings had come down from their prayers, resuming their old arguments with Inaya constantly shouting at them, but it had mellowed down as Arfa groaned that she was getting nauseous and both siblings turned to comfort her.

Inaya ended up curled on the sofa chair facing the bed, where her pregnant mother and younger brother were sleeping together, after refusing to share the space with them. All three were united in complaining about the lack of air and electricity, and so had opened the windows to their balcony wide, letting the cold night showers periodically enter the room, whistling and making its own noise, lulling them to sleep.

Salim had his hands around his mother's pregnant belly, but his thoughts were on his sister's arguments. Making him wonder if he had forced himself on his mother just like his abusive father had. He simply had to reassure himself otherwise, lest he fall back into the depressive spell of the last few months that he had finally begun to break out of, just when his troublesome sister whom he loved yet almost always proved to be a thorn at his side.

Not wanting his mother to wake up, he spat on her palms, and let it slide over his dick lubricating it with repeated spit. Of all the days when he had not wanted to fuck her, it was when Inaya had come and they had talked repeatedly about it, that it had brought his lust back.

'Fuck it', he said to himself and straddled his mother's body between his legs, before placing his dick before her entrance and entered it slowly. He paused at the feeling of warmth around his penis, and it felt like he was back in a familiar place, where he had missed being in for a long time. Embracing his future child, he rested his face on her belly and thrust his hips into his mother's pussy.

Arfa woke up to feel her son's penis sliding into her and looked around to see Inaya still asleep, curled in the cold air of the room and then at her own son who was panting in desire for her. She loosened her legs, to spread them open, which made her son look up and she ushered him forward, like a mother would beckon to her child.

'You're finally...back...ughh..my son..' she whispered in between hurried breaths, inhaling the sweaty scent of her son's drenched body on hers.

'Finally...yes...all thanks to your...disapproving daughter.' Arfa felt a pang of guilt hit her, before she giggled at his joke and her son laughed in response, which made her feel less anxious about them being together again and she embraced his back in response, rubbing it up and down with her fingers.

He kissed her drooling mouth, which was spewing saliva and she cried in pain, as she felt her body cramp in exertion to their love making. Noticing her face crumple in expression, Salim felt he ought to slow his onslaught but he was too far out into it and had been for a few months so he brushed aside his worries and pushed deeper into his mother who gasped in alarm. But said nothing to her son.

As she felt him kiss her eyes, she closed them while smiling to herself, moaning in pleasure as she felt his wet dick slide out, and she had a look at it trailing out a stream of fluids from the tip of his penis to the entrance of her pussy lips, before her son plunged it back into her belly. Then out again and back in.