Hi friends this is Dingdon(aarush) male 30 from Raipur, Chattisgarh and thanx 4 ur response friends, here is my new story hope you all will like it please do comment on it, it will encourage me and also will help me to improve my writing.
I am Prakash. People use to call me a nerd, and I guess I was one. I topped my classes while in school, went to an IIT, and then resisting the temptation to do an MBA continued further with my technical education and to cut a long story short ended up being a bigger nerd. Well actually I ended up being a scientist.
When most of my colleagues went over to the US, I somehow wanted to continue in India, and landed a great job (in my mind) at a research lab of a leading Indian company (which I cannot name!) in Pune.
The pay was good, but more importantly I was engaged in research that I hoped will make difference to the world and to our country.
I was happy, but my father, Mr Krishnamurthy was not. He felt that I should have gone to the US, taken an MNC job etc etc. I tried arguing and after a shouting match on my last visit (4 months back), decided to rest the case. My father was in the financial services industry, and a classic corporate biggie who defined success in terms of fancy cars, overseas visits and corporate parties. My younger sister who was in medical college was also of the opinion that I was an idiot to have “wasted” my chance to “escape India”. Well I did not care for either of their opinion.
I cared about the opinion and feelings of the one person in my family that I was attached to the most. My mother, Pavithra Krishnamurthy. I have to confess, I adore her, and I would have been upset if she had also found fault with my decision. But she as she had been over the years, fully supportive, and was genuinely pleased.
I still remember the warm hug and teary eyes, when I announced the news 3 months back. She had murmured how happy she was and how proud she was. And I loved her for that.
Now I am in Pune, in a lovely apartment the company had provided me in the city. It was fully furnished and they had also provided me with a car. I had settled down, and went to work with a vengeance. Soon I was so engrossed in work that I started neglecting food, and sleep. I still managed my regular morning exercise and yoga that kept me sane. I loved the work, so I did not mind. But my body did, and I started getting ill frequently. I tried to hide this from my family, not that my father cared, but my mother did care, and she found this out. And she tried to make me relax and slow down, and eat better. I respected her – but was still not able to get control of my meals and continued to depend on fast food and takeaways.
Then one day my mother called and announced that she is coming to stay with me for a few weeks. There was not stopping her, and the fact that my father had to go to Singapore on a long deputation for 6 months helped her to make a decision. In fact I was not unhappy with this. I loved her cooking !. I loved her.
I went to pick her up from the tiny Pune Airport. As she came out from the Airport, I could not help but look at her. She was wearing an elegant cotton kurta and her hair was pulled up in a fashionable bun. She looked so good.
My mother. She was 41, but she looked younger and fitter than when I had last seen her. Yes there were a few strands of silver in her hair. Her breasts sagged lower than they used to, and her stomach had gotten bigger. She had always been full-bodied, but now she was even plumper. And I liked her like this.
But her eyes were the same. They sparkled with joy at seeing me, and I felt a hot stinging in my own. I stepped toward her as she let go off the suit case, and we hugged.
How nice it was to hug someone who didn’t have anything to hide, who didn’t have a plan for whether I would be allowed to have a real hug or an artificial one. No. This was just my Amma. A warm, soft hug, and I buried my face in her neck and clung on for dear life. I buried myself in the pillowy softness of her comforting body.
She hugged me right back, her body pressing against mine, stomach to stomach, her chest squished against mine, and we stayed like that for a long time. Then she pulled her head back, and gave me a kiss. Right on my lips.
It was weird. I had never kissed her on the lips before, we were in India, not in the US!, and I started to pull back, but then somewhere inside myself I shrugged and instead kissed her back. It wasn’t a sexual kiss, just a warm pressing of lips upon lips, and hers were soft and yielding and pliant. After a second we stopped.
She lifted her hands to cup my face, and then said, “Hello, Kanna (she used to call me that when she was feeling affectionate).” Tears formed at the corner of her eyes, but didn’t fall. Instead she just smiled at me.
“Hi, Amma,” I replied. “Had a good flight?.”
I stepped aside and picked up the two suitcases she had on the stroller.
“Oh, Amma,” I said over my shoulder. “What do you have in here, rocks?”
She laughed.
I carried the suitcases into the car and we headed out to my apartment. We were talking like long lost friends, she had so many questions and I was so happy to answer her, marveling at the way she understood things, how she appreciated what I was doing.
We reached my place, and she said “This is super Prakash”
“Thanks Amma, you were not expecting this” I asked
She followed me into the bedroom, where I was placing her suitcases. “No, I mean, not so nice, really, but I am so happy for you” she replied.
“Thank you Amma ” I turned to face her.
She looked back at me, her eyes traveling down my body and then back up to my face. “You look famished Kanna” she stated.
I looked self-consciously down at my body. “Yea, I lost a lot of weight in the last few months.”
She smiled.
I paused, then said, “But you have lost some weight too, and you look great, too.” I meant it, too. She may have been round, but to me she was the essence of motherhood, and her lush body was perfect for her.
She smiled. “You think so”
“Seriously.”
She put her arms out, causing her breasts to lift up under her kurta, and then she brought her hands toward her chest, trying to press the cloth to her belly to show me that she has indeed lost weight, this action outlined an exaggerated hourglass shape down her body. “You really think this old lady is okay?”
“Amma,” I said with mock exasperation in my voice, “Yes. You look fantastic.”
She laughed again. “Well, thanks, Kanna.”
“I’m not all that bad, Amma. Look.” I pointed to my biceps rolling up the sleeves of my t-shirt.
“Still working our then eh, Prakash” she said coming closer and made a big show of inspecting my arms, pressing on my muscles. For some reason her touch sent a shiver down my spine, and I swayed a little, and ended up leaning against her a little, my elbow pushing against her breast and my chin against her forehead.
She didn’t move away, just stopped touching my head, and said, “What am I looking for?”
I laughed and stood straight. “My muscles”
“Oh, my baby has become a man,” she teased.
“I’m glad you’re here,” I confessed after a short silence.
“Me too,” she confided.
I turned her around and gently pushed her out of the door of the bedroom and into the hall. “Do you want anything after your trip?” I asked. “Some tea or water? Or something to eat?”
“I’d just like to freshen up a bit and change my clothes. And then let us get dinner.”
“Sure Amma, that would be nice.”
She pushed past me into the bedroom and then I heard her say, “I’ll be out in a few minutes. I went into my room and sat down at the computer.
Amma sure was taking a while. I was engrossed in work, and did not realize that it is 8 PM already, and 2 hours had passed since she went to bath. Then I felt a presence behind me. I breathed in, and I could smell my mother’s scent, and for a moment I felt utterly safe and loved. I felt her hands on my shoulder, and she asked, “Come and have dinner?”
“Oh, what, Amma, where, I mean, I have not made anything, shall I order ” I asked truing around.
She looked at me with that reproaching mother look “Well, if you don’t want what I made you can”
“Amma, you mean” I said.
“Yes, you dreamer, come.” She said ruffling my hair.
I closed the browser and then stood up and turned around. My mother had left her hair loose after her bath, and her lovely black curls were cascading down her back. She had put on a simple light pink saree, with floral patterns on it. She looked so lovely.
“Oh Amma, you look so good” I said.
“Thanks. You have told me earlier” A smile.
We went to the hall, and she made me sit down, and opened the dishes. Rice, sambhar, and a simple beans preparation.
“Not much veggies in the kirana show nearby, hope you don’t mind?”
Mothers are super women! She had bathed, gone out and bought rice and veggies, made all this in 2 hours while I was on my computer, not caring to help. I felt bad, guilty, and happy that she was there for me, and she did this for me.
“Oh Amma, you are brilliant, I mean, all this, so quickly, I am so sorry, I should have helped you, you could have called me” I was holding her hands. She came near me, and placed her hands on my lips.
“Hush, hush, it is nothing, just rice and sambhar, now eat”. She moved aside and served me. Her pallu shifted and my eyes went to her naked belly, she had lost weight, but still her belly was plum, and so very sexy. I caught myself. What am I thinking. Could not help it. Her navel, was so deep, her flesh so smooth.
I ate, and she sat opposite me. Lovingly looking at me. A gentle smile on her face.
“It is so good Amma” I said
“mm, I can see that” she smiled serving me again.
I realized that she is not eating “Why are you not eating Amma?”
“I just want to look at you Prakash, look at you eating” she smiled
I made her take a plate and we ate talking about my work, and about things that is happening in the family etc.
After dinner, she started clearing away the dishes. i helped her in clearing away despite her protests saying “At least let me help you, Ieast I can do to thank you for that wonderful wonderful food”.
My mother turned around as I was closing the tap at the kitchen sink, me and gave me a unselfconscious sideways hug, her body turned perpendicular to mine so that as she hugged me, my right arm was enveloped in the deep valley between her breasts. “It’s so nice,” she said fervently, “to have my baby boy back in my arms again.” She pulled harder pulling me deep against her so that her breasts pushed around my arm and against my chest and back.
“Oh God” I thought to myself. “I am can feel her breasts, I can feel the edges of her bra.”
We moved to the living room, hand in hand. And she murmured “How can you be so nice, Prakash, you thank me and appreciate me even for such silly things…. And when I go back …. I just do all the work, and there is not even a word of…..”
She sobbed once, and continued to hug me, pressing herself tightly against me.
“Aw, ma,” I said. “It’ll be okay. You are not going anywhere now for sometime” I turned in the circle of her arms, my right arm pushing one big soft boob up and toward her side as I did. As I faced her, my arm moved far enough that her breast fell back against her again, and the feel of it flopping against my chest made me feel- I don’t know- wierd. “It’s nice to have you here, Amma,” I continued, and I put my arms around her, my hands falling to the small of her back, marveling at the feel of her flesh.
It did feel good to be there with my Amma again, and so I pulled her against me, not really feeling how her tits were mushed against my chest, or how the curve of her chubby waist was just perfect for my arms to rest against her. Instead I was just feeling a great love for this woman, who I didn’t know as an adult, but who raised me and fed me and took care of me when I was young. We stood there for a long time, just hugging each other, pressing our bodies more and more firmly together, until with a sudden horror I realized that the feel of a woman in my arms was stimulating me. I could feel the blood pooling at the base of my penis, and the slow but urgent beginning of a swelling erection.
I tried to pull out of the embrace, but my Amma was reluctant to let go, and so I continued to hug her with mounting unease, yet still oddly comfortable. I had read somewhere when someone wants a hug, you should let them be the one to break it. So I kept hugging my Amma, and she kept hugging me, and all that time I could feel the slow stirrings of my cock. I could feel it filling with blood, and as it lengthened and hardened, I felt it inch down my pants. With the way that my mother and I were pressed together, there was no way she couldn’t be feeling it, yet she said nothing, made no reaction at all as my betraying cock hardened between us.
I was uncomfortably aware of my mother’s body in a way that I hadn’t been moments ago. Her heavy tits were pushed up against my chest and I could almost imagine her nipples pressing into me. My arms were resting on her waist, and my hands were on her bare mid-riff, caressing the soft pliant flesh. Her breath was warm and soft on my neck, and I felt the tiny hairs there rise up in response.
This was crazy. My Amma was getting me hot. “God, how desperate I must be,” I thought to myself, “that my own mother can excite me.”
An image flashed into my head. An evening when a twelve-year-old boy had barged into his mothers room, catching his mother without her saree, clad in a petticoat, and putting on her brassiere. My mother, years younger, flash, her swollen breasts, flash, deep cleavage, flash, The massive brown circle around the dark brown nipple-tip. Flash. Turn. Flash. Her eyes on me, widening. looking at mine, frozen moment, my Amma smiling, mouthing the words, “get out Kanna” Her breasts disappearing behind her hands.
As I remembered that long ago night, I remembered how that image had fueled my very first masturbatory fantasies, and helplessly, my cock throbbed once. I knew my Amma had to have felt that, but she just pulled me tighter against her.
“My baby,” she sighed. She squeezed me once tightly and then let go.
I was breathing heavily, and I knew my cheeks had to be flushed. I was embarrassed by my body’s reaction and I couldn’t understand why my mother had not reacted at all. When I finally looked I her, I saw her cheeks were red too. But she smiled brightly at me and took my hand and we walked on towards the couch. We spent another two hours talking, it was nice, it was so nice to be with her.It was as if my life had changed.
It was so great to wake-up next day, with the smell of fresh coffee and pongal wafting in from the kitchen. So great to see Amma dressed in an off white cotton saree, freshly bathed and her hair loose, preparing breakfast for me. So nice to get piping hot coffee from her, and see her smile.
I could not help telling her how great her cooking is, and she continued to smile as tell me I am making a big deal.
I hugged her before I left for office.I called her at least twice. I hugged her when I came back. She had made medhu vada for me. It was heaven. But it was something more than the food and the order she brought it. It was also my infatuation for her, which was increasing despite my attempt to control.
TO BE CONTINUED……………..
girls ladies and aunties from mp or cg can contact me for a warm relationship my mail id is