Mother reclaims son from Aunt Shobha

They met next in the kitchen downstairs. It was the morning after the wild night of sex in the household. Shobha had woken up, her body wonderfully tired but well rested from the deep slumber through the night. Her clothes were draped around her, and the bed sheet covered one part of her bare body that lay beneath. As she overcame her drowsiness she remembered the events of the night before. She felt the bed next to her and discovered that her husband was not in the room.

She remembered the pounding she had taken from behind; the first time her husband had been imaginatively inspired by the movie on the TV the night before. That had been right after Shobha’s delightful mistake of entering her nephew Ajay’s room, instead of her own. She felt a stirring in her loins and stretched herself as a contented cat would, thinking of the arousal and the response she had from the boy. She had mistakenly entered that room and gone down on him, taking his virgin cock deep in her throat thinking it was her husband. The size, the response and the feel gave the mistake away but by then it was too late. Ajay, the nephew was wildly aroused and made sure his aunt took his virginity before she left the room.

Shobha was glad for it. The boy, just about nineteen years old, had the strong drive one would expect from a virgin lad that young. But he was also well endowed. Shobha lazily rubbed her mound as she felt the stirrings of desire at the thought of that stud. Then she realized that both Ajay and her husband had fucked her in succession and she had fallen asleep. She was coated with their juices and it had dried off on her.

Then as she became more fully awake, she remembered where she was and where all this had happened. This was her husband’s elder brother’s house which they were visiting. Her brother-in-law had fucked his wife and that had been a noisy animal coupling which triggered Shobha’s desires and later her husband Kumar’s as well. As Shobha returned to her husband’s bed after the unexpected encountered with the nephew, Kumar, who had been aroused by the sounds from his brother’s bedroom had fucked Shobha energetically and the woman had ended up with two men within an hour the same night.

And it was illicit. That made her feel sober, as Shobha reached for her bra and panties. She needed to go down and help the lady of the house in the kitchen. That was the Indian tradition; the women would spend time together so that Dipti found it easier to cope with her guests. Shobha was a little unsure of seeing Dipti eye to eye. She felt guilty by the light of day for having taken Dipti’s son’s virginity. And there was the lingering doubt as to whether Dipti had discovered the two of them but left them undisturbed. Dipti’s room door did seem to have been ajar and Shobha felt she had seen it shut after she crossed to her own room. Surely, that was Dipti? Dipti had also twice passed by Ajay’s room while Ajay and Shobha were fucking like animals, and asked Ajay about the noises emanating from his room. Luckily she had not entered.

When Shobha entered the kitchen Dipti was working there getting morning tea and some crackers and biscuits organized. Shobha came up behind Dipti and soon was standing next to her.

“Good morning, Didi!” she wished Dipti, “Can I help with anything?”

“Oh, hello Shobha. No you need not. I am mostly done. You relax- you seem to have had a tough, long night isn’t it?” responded Dipti.

Shobha froze. Was Dipti referring to the deflowering of her son; had she guessed? Or was she referring to the noises that she and Kumar may have made while engaging in the act? After all, hadn’t she and Kumar heard Dipti and Gopal going at each other noisily?

“Well, it was a busy night for you too!” replied Shobha. This kind of conversation around their sex lives had happened several times, but the specific reference to an event at night was new.

Dipti’s hands stopped even as she started adding sugar to the tea which was on the boil. “What was I busy with?” she asked.

“Well, we heard you!” replied Shobha, shoving her brother-in-law’s wife playfully on the shoulder. Dipti resumed the tea making.

“I was with my husband,” replied Dipti.

It was Shobha’s turn to go deep red. Her chest started heaving as she felt her throat constrict. “I too was with mine” she countered.

“Haan, eventually yes!” pushed on Dipti as she bustled about the kitchen.

Shobha slowly arranged the biscuits in a pattern on the plate. She didn’t look up at Dipti. Her mind went over the way she had mouthed and wetted her nephew’s cock and how she had admired the specimen of manhood. Hell, she had even thought if the father had anything like what the son sported, Dipti must have been having fun! And now this; the morning after.

“So, how was it?” asked Dipti. She was relentless, even though she was not being direct.

“Well, I had had a bit to drink. It was a lovely evening. That movie had that raunchy scene. I guess all of us were a bit aroused” went on Shobha. She felt her pussy moisten as her deeper mind relived the amazing pleasure. Had the illicitness of it enhanced the pleasure she wondered as her hands toyed with next biscuit pack.

“All that is true. It doesn’t fully answer the question though. Did you enjoy him?” Dipti persisted.

“I don’t know why you want to know the details” blushed Shobha. “We were not newly weds and it wasn’t our first time.”

“It was for him!” said Dipti, finally nailing the point beyond doubt. She knew. Somehow she knew. Either because she come by the room; while Shobha was riding her nephew like she would a bucking bronco; or she was at her room door watching Shobha go from Ajay’s room to her husband, Kumar’s room. Or maybe it was just Dipti’s maternal instinct.

“It was a mistake. I thought it was our bedroom and that the person in bed was Kumar’” she confessed, her heart thumping wildly. The color rose to her cheeks and her bosom started to rise and fall. One reason was the memory of the strong passion they had shared. The other reason was the arousal she felt from telling the mother that she had been with her son.

“Was it too late to stop when you realized?” she asked. It was an accusation for having corrupted her boy; could she not have stopped?

“No, I realized the moment………” Shobha paused. This was getting too graphic.

“The moment what?” pushed on Dipti.

“…….. Didi (sister), I don’t how to say this to you. The moment I felt him, I knew it wasn’t Kumar, but the boy was too crazed to stop,” Shobha gripped Dipti’s hand as she plunged on with her confession. And now Shobha was tense. Dipti might get upset and make a big issue of it and there might be a huge family drama.

Dipti stiffened and her body language was of a woman deeply distressed. “How do you mean you felt him?” she asked. At the very least, she wanted to know what had happened to her son. At the most, she needed to know if her husband’s brother’s wife had willfully seduced her son, which she considered unpardonable.

“I just did what I do when I want Kumar to make love to me,” said Shobha her hand gently staying on her Didi’s hand.

“Which is what? And how did that lead you to realize your mistake? What could you have done in a few minutes that you realized your mistake and yet, he was unstoppable? I find that hard to believe Shobha.”

Shobha knew that Dipti was going to be hard to stop if the fact of mistake was not established. She decided to tell Dipti everything. She said, “He just grew so rapidly and he was so large that it just could not have been Kumar. But he had become aroused and was large. I really tried to stop him Didi, but he was extremely aroused.”

“How did you try to stop him?” asked Dipti.

“Well, I took him out of my mouth and tried to get up” replied Shobha spontaneously.

“You had him in your mouth?” asked Dipti incredulously. Dipti now felt the juices moving between her legs at the thought of a woman sucking a man’s cock. And when that man was her own son…..

“Why? Haven’t you ever done that?” asked Shobha.

“No!” said a shocked Dipti. “But you had Ajay’s cock in your mouth?” she turned to look at Shobha in disbelief.

“It was dark and I just went under the sheets, just to get him up and moving quickly. I was high and the sounds of you and Bhai sahib (elder brother) fucking made it unmanageable for me,” proffered Shobha by way of explanation. “The rapid swelling, and the fuller body of that cock – I just knew in a jiffy it wasn’t Kumar!”

“Is he that large?” out popped the spontaneous question from Dipti. It was a question she regretted instantly. Ajay had slept in his parent’s room or with his mother from his infancy. It had stopped abruptly, in Ajay’s thirteenth year. That was also the day she discovered the sheet with the wet patch and the strands of hair on it. That was also the day after which he never let her see him nude or let her bathe him. She had never seen him that way again and suddenly, today, she just needed to know more about how much he had grown. Her entire stance went soft and Shobha could feel her melt.

“I thought perhaps he had his father’s genes on that. Kumar is surely a lot more slender. Ajay was thicker, fuller. And of course enormously energetic. But that is only to be expected with that age,” she remembered, feeling her lips dry as she thought of that excitement.

Dipti suddenly found herself responding to Shobha’s hand and felt warm towards this woman. It was as if she had met someone bringing her news of a loved one from a far away land. “Come lets sit and talk,” she said, drawing Shobha away to the hall settee. “Didn’t you try to stop it once you discovered your mistake?”

“Didi, I had been mouthing him a few times when I felt his hard young body and reached for the lights. By that time your son had been pushing his hips up and at my face. I think he was imagining it to be a wet dream. And once he awoke, his lust had taken over! He forced me for the next few minutes! I couldn’t help it, Didi,” she leaned forward and placed her cheek on Dipti’s shoulder.

“And after those first few minutes?” asked the mother, “Were you able to respond to his need?” Dipti felt a surge in her loins as she heard all this. She had been curious about her son. When she heard Shobha describe his cock she wanted more details, but she didn’t know how to ask without coming across as a slut. In her mind, some of the questions she had were so crass that she was ashamed at herself for wanting to know such things about her own son.

“I resisted him, but I couldn’t walk away from him. I had bathed him so often in his younger days and taken care of him so much. The need in him; somehow I felt that it was just an extension of all the needs in him I had taken care of in the past. When he reached for my breasts, I felt the mother in me wanting to nurse him.”

Dipti felt a surge in her own breasts and an up swelling of jealousy. Instinctively her hand rose and she placed a hand lightly on Shobha’s breast. She felt out the nipple and asked, “Did he suck you here?”

Shobha raised her head off Dipti’s shoulder and she looked her co-sister in her eyes. Dipti’s eyes were soft and pleading. She could almost see the woman regretting that it was not she in Ajay’s room last night. Shobha’s eyes were sparkling with excitement and feeling at telling her about her favorite nephew.

“Like all boys he was so keen to get at my breasts! He fumbled and pawed me awkwardly. I just couldn’t resist letting my blouse open and holding his head to me and suckling my little Ajay!” Shobha revealed. Her hand touched Dipti’s hand which was on her breast and she pushed Dipti’s hand to massage her breast and caress her nipple. Suddenly, electricity sparked between the two women sitting on the settee there.

“Your little boy is no longer little, Didi. He is a young stud and if his father is like him, I thought you must be enjoying a very full sexual life,” concluded Shobha.

Dipti’s other hand went around Shobha’s shoulder, heads, and she pulled her close and held her in an embrace. Her mind was spinning with thoughts of her own son. No, he didn’t seem to be like his father; he seemed a lot better endowed. Her cheek touched Shobha’s cheek and Dipti shivered. Her sexual ardor at this moment exceeded the feelings in bed with Gopal the previous night, screaming and pounding notwithstanding. She felt gratitude towards Shobha for having helped her son. But she also felt jealous that another woman had been able to meet a need which she could have filled herself.

She could not respond or reveal the truth in response to Shobha’s question on the comparison with the father. The two women did talk about their sex lives in general terms every now and then. But this morning, the whole topic had a different feel and depth to it. Dipti suddenly realized the sexual energy flowing between herself and her co-sister. Her hand on the breast was feeling and caressing and Dipti had already felt the nipples rise in erection and unfurl. The two women were nuzzling each other.

What Shobha said next broke the magic of the moment. “He filled me till here when I was on top. I don’t even know when that happened. I thought I could tame him by masturbating him and finding him release. Somewhere during that phase I too, lost control of myself,” she said, guiding Dipti’s hand lower to the base of her stomach. “And when he was on top he filled me deep down inside, with strong powerful surges and a full load,” she ended, admiringly.

Dipti looked into Shobha’s eyes. This woman had been on top of her son, and then she imagined her lying on her back opened out wide, cunt splayed with the robust youth between her legs. She had taken her boy away from her and had converted him to a young man. And she had taken a position in his life, which she, Dipti, felt intensely jealous about.

She pushed Shobha away and walked back to the kitchen. She didn’t want Shobha looking into her eyes and seeing the jealousy. Or worse, uncovering the completely illicit new desire in her to be her own son’s lover. She wanted Ajay to think only of her and remember only her as the woman to take him new places. She wanted him to discover everything about womanhood by exploring her body, not the body of just some woman. And her breasts, how they had ached and her nipples seemed like bursting when Shobha talked of it. And now, when Shobha talked of the penis in her womb, she wanted that womb to be hers.

At the very least, she needed to see his penis and touch and feel it. She was completely lost to the world around her. The moistness between her legs was making her feel very sluttish. Her nipples were aching. What was wrong with her, for god’s sake! Her own son and she was feeling like a whore, a slut, a woman of sexual energy who just wanted to take it out on her son and mark him as her own.

Shobha waited for Dipti to come out of her reverie. She moved closer and placed her hand on her co-sister’s shoulder. She put her arms around Dipti from behind and laid her head on Dipti’s back. Her hands caressed Dipti’s stomach and torso so as to soothe her. Dipti shivered. Shobha’s hands went to her hips and then lower down as she caressed the thighs. The two women were absorbed in each other. Dipti imagined those same hands on her son’s body just a few hours earlier. Oh god, how she needed consummation now! Where was the boy? She needed to see him now. And the hands on her felt so good.

Dipti felt awkward about the new desires surging in her. She wanted her son. She was being aroused by the touch of a woman. Maybe she should talk with Shobha more and satiate her curiosity. Maybe Shobha would have a way to help her find release.

Shobha found Dipti’s long silence disconcerting. This self absorption came across to Shobha as if Dipti was upset with the whole incident and was now not interested in talking to Shobha. Maybe she wouldn’t speak to Shobha ever again in her life. She left the room, leaving Dipti to struggle with the inner demons. She also wondered if Dipti would tell all to her husband which was sure to result in a breakdown in family relationships.

Late at Night

Shobha and Kumar had left a bit too abruptly. Gopal could not figure out what had happened but Kumar had trotted an unconvincing excuse of some important business that needed attention.

Dipti was sure it had to do with her own conversation that morning with Shobha. When she had turned around she found Shobha was long gone. Shobha missed the morning tea which was had when the brothers returned from their morning walk. She came down ready in a saree, and after she had made sure Ajay had left for college. She kept out of Dipti’s way, heading into town; to meet some friends she explained to Dipti quickly.

And now Dipti was sitting by herself in the middle of the night. Her husband was fast asleep. The day had been one of emotional turmoil and physical need for her. She had watched Ajay closely. Her son seemed to have a problem in his pants. He kept fumbling trying to adjust his underpants to accommodate what seemed to be a permanent erection. Ajay was perplexed himself with this phenomenon. His cock just wouldn’t subside. He looked for his aunt but she was out. He had wanted to tell her he loved her. He felt all sorts of emotions towards her but she was nowhere to be seen.

Dipti had noticed the boy’s predicament and when he repeatedly asked about his aunt, Dipti felt intensely jealous. She wanted her son to look only for her. She wished that she had never stopped bathing him. She wished she had fondled his cock on the pretext of washing him. She regretted not having kept her son to herself and initiated him herself, thus keeping him to her self for life.

The bottling up and the events of last night had led to a shameful level of desire for physical intimacy in her. That gradual familiarity with the lad through the growing years would not have needed any justification and would have met the need in her, which now raged uncontrolled. The need which would have been easily explained, and would have been gradual and calibrated as the son grew to nineteen years, was now a raging lust for her own son. Her desires were now illicit but undeniable. The faster breath, the surge of slickness between her legs, and the aching of her nipples were for real.

Equally real was the shamefulness of a mother wanting her son’s body? Was it lust? Was it ownership? As she pondered the conflict in her mind, she also noticed that it took hardly any time for the shame to give way to unbridled lust as the thoughts inevitably turned to the hard young body. Was he thick? Or was he long? What made Shobha describe him in special terms? Perhaps a bulbous head? Was he a natural who had the correct animal instincts? Dipti sighed as she felt her pussy juice up for the umpteenth time that day.

Quietly she slipped into Ajay’s room. She wanted to look over her boy. She lay on the couch at the far end and stared at the prone body on the bed. He was fast asleep. She too had been asleep, but she was drifting in and out of sleep, tortured by images of forbidden sexuality and orientation. Not since she was a girl in her teens had she felt her nipples aroused and tonight, it woke her up, half expecting to find Shobha’s lips there. Or her cunt ache and imagine the youthful cock reaming her. And similar thoughts caused her to drift back to sleep.

This bout of sleep which she entered was deep. What stirred her out of it was the sound of sighing and rustling from the bed on which her son lay. As her eyes got used to the darkness, she was the movement on the bed. She propped her head just a little bit. Obviously she had not been noticed as being in the room.

His hand was under the sheet and the movement of the arm was obvious. Her son was masturbating. If she had any doubts on what he was imagining while masturbating, they were taken care of with his sighs of “Chachi!” (Auntie). Dipti felt her chest constrict and her breathing became difficult. This aroused her immensely and she also felt intense jealousy at hearing him murmur Shobha’s name. The boy was obviously lost over that experience. She didn’t want her son to ache like this. He need not ache. Wasn’t she there?

The pull of her feelings for him and the consequences of what she was about to do were at odds. What if her husband found out? What if her Ajay rejected her advances, horrified that his mother would be his willing sexual partner? What if Ajay told Shobha? What if, what if, what if? But couldn’t she tell her husband that her son had found a release for his needs and that he needed to be stopped before he went out there and got himself in trouble? Surely that was justification enough?

She did not realize when, but she had walked to the bedside of her son Ajay and was looking down upon the scene of his self gratification. Ajay noticed the silhouette- he was startled but equally quickly could see it was a woman. She was moving slowly towards him. It had to be someone from the house. Was it his chachi Shobha who was back for him? Was she as much in love with him, as he was with her? The night played tricks on the young man. What was impossible didn’t prevent him from hoping he had ‘his woman’ back with him the very next night. God! He missed her. His fist pumped harder. How many times he had cum since the morning. He now felt only she could satiate him.

She took her first tentative steps. Her hands trembled as she reached out for him. Was she doing the right thing? Would her son ever look at her in the same light again? Would he respect her ever again in the expected Indian tradition? Or would she be abused and ridiculed and rejected by her child? Could she ever look herself in the mirror again for having wanted him back in her womb but in a completely different avatar?

The conflicting thoughts did nothing to stop her hand from finding its way under the sheet. She clasped his fist in her own hand. As his fist moved she allowed her hand to move with it. “Chachi!” whispered Ajay. He removed his hand allowing her to touch his engorged cock. The excitement of having ‘his woman’ again caused him to swell up to impossible proportions. She felt the cock in her fingers. She actually ran her fingers in an exploratory fashion to gauge its contours before closing her fist around it. And she felt new blood rush in as the penis swelled up further.

Her eyes were closed and she was concentrating completely on the pillar of flesh in her fist. Her own flesh, as it were, and she felt she was reclaiming what belonged to her; what was hers anyway. Yes, it was a magnificent specimen and it was created by her. Her hand luxuriated in the feel of the hardness, the pulsing of blood as it surged and the wetness that poured from the head. No, she had never felt such a full and rich cock in her life. It had to be something special and it was hers for the asking.

She fisted down as her instincts took over. The skin pulled back and Ajay gasped; there was an aggression in the pumping which was marginally painful to him. His hand reached out for the wrist to control the thrusting of her hand. Dipti put out her other hand to touch his forehead. She caressed him. And slowly she kneeled on the floor next to the bed, administering to her son a new sexual experience. The hand which was on his cock was unrelenting, unwilling to give up any space. Her other hand roamed his face, his neck and now slipped under his kurta to find his nipple. She stroked his chest and his nipples.

“Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahh!” went the boy as the warm magical fingers drove him wild. His hips thrust up and down as he felt the need for more and more pleasure. No, not release. That signified the end. He just wanted pleasure, more and more pleasure.

His hands wrapped around her shoulder, pulling her to him. He felt her breasts press on his side. In the darkness he clung to her, wanting her everywhere. The grip of her fist felt incredibly good. He didn’t want her to release him. Yet, the warmth of the cunt, the wetness, the weight of her body on him, of his body between her legs; that too was a pleasurable experience. Wildly, he tried to reach for more of her body but kneeling as she was, he could reach no more than her back. She was fully clothed in her nightgown and the lack of her flesh for him drove him to desperation.

Dipti meanwhile found herself hovering over his torso and groin. The fistful of cock was not too far from her lips. She thought of what Shobha had told her. It was not an act she had indulged in with her husband. The temptation was strong, and she felt she would be justified if she allowed that, but did not allow him in her womb. It felt dirty but was it worse than being sexual with her own son? How would it taste? She felt pangs of revulsion, but also felt challenged that her co-sister had already performed the act. If she did not do it herself, she would leave something for the boy to remember of the other woman. Tonight, she wanted her son to wipe out his memories of everything and know the world only through his mother.

Now Ajay wanted to see her face. It had looked so radiant and glowing last night. His woman, his love, he wanted to see her again. And make love to her and have her make love to him.

His hand moved to the light switch and as he turned it on, he could see from the half lit profile of the face that it was not his beloved chachi. Dipti turned her head towards her son, and saw the shock on the boy’s face. He quickly grabbed the sheets and tried to move away and cover himself. Dipti instinctively knew that he was not ready for this experience with her. It was now or never; she would lose her son if she didn’t use lust and raw sex to drive past the hurdle of this being a taboo relationship.

She moved her head down, held her breath, and opened her mouth wide and closed on the still rearing and jerking cock. Her lips closed around the shaft and she let her saliva flow and reduce the challenge of having to taste him raw. Her tongue formed a channel which folded around the sausage-like cock. And she fucked him with her mouth with a determination to bring him to that point of no return which Shobha had referred: there could be realization that she was his mother, but she wanted no will in him to resist.

The cock which had shrunk a bit on the son realizing what was happening, regained its tempo of fullness and throbbing with the sensations of the mouth riding it. Her hair fell forward on his thighs and stomach and tickled and aroused him further. He couldn’t see her face for the hair, which was just as well. It was a fantastic experience and felt better than the fist or the cunt, he thought to himself. And it felt no different than last night. He gave himself over to his own pleasure as his hips thrust into his mother’s face and his hand rested on her head.

He felt the loss of control. The woman on his cock was pinching his nipples with her other hand. That hand also roamed to his face, fingers entering his mouth and fucking his mouth as it were. She had gone wild on him. She made loud slobbering noises as she fucked his cock. The cum in his loins was roiling up. His hips were moving and jerking with a life of their own. He didn’t want to cum but he wanted to feel the orgasm.

“Maaaaa!” he hissed, “Stop, stop, stop, stop, stop” he hollered. The cum surged up. Dipti moved her head off as she felt the first jet rise up. Her fist closed on the throbbing hose of pleasure and pumped and held him hard. The cum shot up and hit her on her face. She closed her eyes. The semen flowed in unending spurts and jerks. Her hands were coated with her son’s sperm. “Wasted!” was the inexplicable thought that shot through her head.

She held him down. Her fist moving in rhythmic patterns. Of fucking then stopping, allowing the cock to jerk and spew in satisfaction. The boy groaned, “Maa, yeh aap ne kya kiya?” (Mother, what did you do?)

“What I should have long ago beta!” she replied. “You needed me, not your chachi or just any woman or girl. You are mine!” There was triumph in her voice as she watched the cock spasmodically release all his fluids. She held him, her fist opened and closed, providing the right stimulus to the jut of flesh now in her hands. There was messy cum everywhere. She had puddles of it in her palm, over her fingers and random shots that had landed on her gown. She smeared her face on the sheet covering his thighs to clean herself of his cum.

As she clambered on the bed to lie alongside her son, he moved to make her space. She made sure her hand remained on the cock, recording every tremor from his groin. Till he needed her, she was going to pleasure his cock, she thought to herself.

She placed herself so that his head was buried in her bosom. The hand which was on his cock came up to the buttons of her gown. She wiped the messed up fingers on whatever cloth it encountered on its way; some on the sheets, some on the gown. She unbuttoned her gown. It had buttons way down the front. Funny, she thought. Night gowns are made with enough buttons to help them feed babies whom they didn’t have. It was an admission of the need to feed their husbands with their breasts.

Her chest was opened out to him. She pulled his head to her breasts and allowed her son to rest on them, crooning to him in low tones. She held him to her and said, “I am your woman. I am everything you want and need. No chachi, no woman can be to you what I am to you, understood?”

The bewildered boy nodded as he felt the soft breasts on his face. No he didn’t understand. Mom, who was strict and so discipline oriented had in one night shattered all myths with her moves on him. Yes, he craved a woman with all those urges arising in him. But mom? She knew about chachi the previous night that much was obvious.

His face automatically nuzzled the flesh of her breasts and he instinctively lipped the nipples. Not for the first time in his life, but in a very different way now. He noticed the turgidity of the nipples, hard and seeking attention. He realized that she was probably in a high state of arousal. He sensed that having made him cum she had placed his pleasure over her own release. Or was his release as satisfying for her as her own might have ever been?

The sucking in of the nipple was inevitable. Dipti sighed with contented arousal as she urged her son on. She pushed her breast more into his face. Ajay lifted his leg and placed it over his mother’s hips. His cock was not flaccid, it was semi-limp. It wasn’t hard but he was hardly satiated. He felt drowsy as the comfort of his mother’s arms overcame him.

Dipti could not help feel disappointed as the regular breathing revealed that he was now asleep. She had convinced herself that his release would be the extent of her seduction. It was at odds with her disappointment that the famed rejuvenation capabilities of a youth were not to be had immediately.

The fire between her legs was awake, but she also felt comforted by the success of her attempt to create intimacy between her son and herself. She let herself hold him and sleep, half hoping that she would regain control and not allow this to lead to full-blown incest. Half her hope was that her son would awaken before her and take her the way she knew he could.