Dipti Reclaims Ajay

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 which 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.