Dancing with Mom

NOTE :- ALL CHARACTERS ARE ABOVE 18 YEARS OLD

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The saree linger on her waist. Her blouse wrapped those nipples. Her feet glistened with the radiant jewel in her ankles. She danced with music, provocatively. Her pallu tied to one corner revealed her gorgeous navel. The translucent saree, clinging to her body. She bent over and jumped and the saree jumped up to her femur. She wasn't wearing anything inside. Her agile legs lose from a load of the underskirt. As the music got intense, her dance got vivid. She swayed her navel. She removed the pallu and pinched her navel. She swings her belly and her ass. The saree took a perverse shape, and I learned she wasn't wearing any panties. I stood in one corner snooping her dance. She danced in another corner, while I thrust my monster. I wanted to dance with her, hold her, make her mine. I craved that kiss, that body, that skin. I lusted her more as I saw her wobble that bum.

I walked strode into the room. She saw me but didn't stop dancing. She pulled to me.

"Dance with me," she said.

"Mom," I said.

"Come on," she said.

She clutched my hand and compelled me to dance.

"We can dance to a romantic song," I said.

"Oh, wow, you're getting on to something boy," she said.

"No mom, I want to dance on a romantic song with you today," I said and changed the music.

Sensuous melody played, guitars strung, pianos played, and the orchestra began. I take her body into mine. I clutched her waist, stared within her eye and danced. It was a quiet movement of infatuation and obsession. It was a gentle flash of hunger and thirst. I kept reading into her eyes and she did the same. Inside our ocean eyes, we immersed ourselves and bathed. We searched for our cravings. She eyed me like I was her king and she was my queen mother. We danced and swayed our hips. I gasped into her ear, clinching together. Our bodies turned on. I was wearing shorts and nothing underneath. She wasn't either. Our lust surged and stuck to each other's lions and lioness. I didn't let her go, nor did she.

It was paradise, her creamy body clinging me, my hardness saddled her thighs. She didn't get hurt. She knew I was hard. She knew I was erotically possessed. So was she, her breath became empty. Her lips were big and parched. My hands edgy, legs trembled, thirst rose along with hers. We absorbed into each other's eyes. Our faces smashed, our breaths exchanged. Our lips merged, and we spurt lust. I savor the honey of love from my mom. She relished the liquor of love from me. Our tongues tussled their way into each other.

We unite, lust hoisted from the jungle, our lips splintered, our hands probed our bodies. I sage into the freckle on her breast. I slid the pallu across her nape to smooch. She placed her head back shrinking her nape. I drank the daisy.

The jazz stopped, the dancing stopped but desires whirled in our bodies. We took a good look at ourselves. I had a lot of things going on in my mind so was hers.

"How can I kiss my mom? How can I make out with her?"

She was thinking the same. In-questing our dark desires, our bodies told us nothing is wrong. Our minds told us the opposite, about oedipal love, about lust. I hope she doesn't listen to her mind. I hope she listens to her body. The way, her body stood, loosely trussed saree around her body. The aroma of her lust raised my passions. I went close again. She squeezed me again. Instead of exploring her passion. She surrendered her head into my chest.

"What is happening to us?" she asked.

"What mom?" I asked.

"We shouldn't have done this," she said.

"What we did wasn't wrong," I said.

"It is," she said and I heard her sob.

"Mom, for years you've been hungry. Thirsty for desire. Now, we have each other for ourselves," I said.

She heard that and slapped me.

"Don't talk to your mom like that?" she told me.

"I love you," I said.

"Yesterday you were talking about how you peek at me. And now you talk about all this. Have you lost your senses" she asked?

"I love to peek at you. I love to hold you. I loved how you messaged me yesterday. I loved how I messaged you yesterday. I loved the way your bikini fell from the wind and I got to see your nipples" I said.

"Shut up," she said.

"If I could get one chance, I could have held you, sucked on them. Made love to you," I said.

"Stop it," she said.

"No, I want us to be together," I said.

"We can't be doing this," she said.

"We must, I have seen the hunger in you, your eyes speak differently," I said.

She turned around and stopped. I cherished her from behind. She wailed, I wiped her tears. We stood holding each other. I breathed on her shoulder and I peeked on her breast. She grappled my hair and caressed my face.

"You're a good son, you aren't supposed to talk to your mom like that," she said.

"I am a good son. I must give my mom what she desires," I said.

"We aren't gonna have this conversation again," she said.

"We are gonna, make love and explore our passion from now on," I said.

She walked to her room and shut the door.

"Mom" I shouted.

"Go back, sleep," she said.

I heard her weep from the door. I spied from the keyhole.

She stood in front of the mirror, loosened that saree. It tumbled on the floor, rumpled. Stark naked in front of that mirror she embraced her body which chafes it's the lifespan for mating.