Drunk Dancing

Disclaimer: All characters in this story are above 18.

Author's note: This is a quick paced story aimed at instant gratification. Not a slow burn.

"You've got to come home Sam!" My uncle urged.

Sam... short for Samvid. Only dad and uncle used to call me that. Both tough military veterans.

No one had called me Sam for months... since dad passed away. Something pulled at my heart hearing it.

"Usha's not doing well," Uncle's voice brought me back, "she's either drunk on your dad's military quota liquor... or she's bawling her eyes out when she's sober."

Uncle went on explaining how bad the situation at home was.

I'd come back to Bangalore for work a few weeks after cremating dad. Mom seemed to have come out of her grief by then.

But now this!

I assured uncle that I would be on the next bus home. It took some convincing for the boss to approve work from home for two months.

I hopped on the first available bus to Calicut and was home by next morning.

The sight that greeted me at the door confirmed that uncle was not exaggerating. Mom's face looked like mine the morning after my graduation party... so incredibly hungover. She could barely open her eyes because of the light that came in when she opened the door for me. She was dressed in a shabby maxi dress that looked like it had been worn for three days.

She just went back to bed without even saying hi.

After settling my stuff into my old room, I went to check on her. She was snoring.

There was nothing much in the kitchen to eat. The refrigerator had some bread and eggs. Apparently, she'd been eating nothing else. The resultant weight loss was obvious in her frame.

It was late morning. So I ordered some lunch. Once I finished mine, I left a plate out for her and went back to my room. I had a few deadlines to keep for work.

I had lost all sense of time just typing away at my laptop, when I heard faint jazz music. It immediately evoked memories of dad. He used to play jazz records in his study in the evening when he opened a bottle of scotch. Sometimes, when the door was not fully closed I used to see Mom dancing with him.

I came out of my room following the music. The door to the study was open and I saw Mom swaying to the music with a glass of brown liquid hanging in the air by her hand. She had her eyes closed and was following some rhythm in her head.

I stood at the doorway totally at loss. What was I supposed to do about this situation?

"Mom!" I called out.

Her lazy eyes opened as if there was a delay of a few seconds for my voice to reach her. They lit up as she saw me. She probably didn't remember opening the door for me in the morning.

"Hi kanna!" she said. She never stopped calling me by that childish pet name. My friends used to tease me a lot about that.

"When did you come home kanna?" her cheerful drunk voice spoke. By the slight lisp, I could sense that she was probably two or three glasses down already.

"Just this morning amma," I replied, "Don't you remember?"

She just kept on swaying to the music.

"Come dance with me kanna!" she said. My question seemed to have flown over her head.

I stood unmoving at the door, bewildered.

"Kanna!" she repeated, "come dance with me."

She came forward and pulled me inside the room by her free left hand. She then gulped down the contents of her glass and placed it on the table.

"Come here!" she said and pulled me to her. She took one of my hands in hers and placed the other on her hips. She placed her other hand on my chest, stood in close and started swaying.

It happened so fast that I fell into step with her. It had been a while since I danced. Before dad retired, there used to be a lot of parties where I danced with the daughters of dad's colleagues.

It took me a while to remember and fall in sync with mom. We danced for a couple of minutes.

Then the record ended and mom broke away. She quickly replaced it with a new record, and then poured her another glass of scotch. To my surprise, she filled a second glass as well.

"Here kanna! Have a drink with your old widowed mom." She said offering me the glass.

As I took it from her, she gulped down her own glass in one go. She was ready to dance again as the music resumed.

"Quickly, come" she urged and pushed my glass towards my mouth. I flushed the hard liquor down my throat. It burned all the way down to my stomach.

She pulled me back into her arms and resumed the dance. This was a quicker song and I struggled a little to follow Mom's lead. By the time it ended, I had started sweating.

In the short break once that song ended, she filled up two more glasses. We gulped those down and was back in each other's arms before the next number started. It would have looked ridiculous if someone was there to see... like some weird reality show which could be named 'drunk dancing to death'. The liquor was starting to dull my senses.

This one was quite a bit slow and mom leaned in to me. Her breasts pushed against my chest and even with alcohol dulled sense, I could tell that there was no bra beneath her maxi dress.

This awareness started messing with my head and despite vociferous protests by one part of my brain, the other part was sending inappropriate neural signals to my privates.

Before I could comprehend, my cock was getting hard and pushing against Mom's belly. I was in Oedipus's hell... feeling horny and guilty at the same time.

But mom kept swaying to the music and leaning closer. I tried resisting the wily temptations but couldn't for long.

My hand that was on her hips started slipping down over her maxi dress. A few inches down my fingers could feel the impression of the waistband of Mom's panty. I paused my hand there and let my fingers run along the edges. It was a narrow waistband and as I dragged my finger behind her along it, it was tapering quite narrowly... very much unlike a normal cotton panty that I expected mom would be wearing. This seemed like something risqué... something a 40-year-old woman from the conservative land of Kerala wouldn't normally be wearing.

I ran my finger to and fro on the waistband not going too far on Mom's behind. But I couldn't resist for long. My finger traced the waistband as it narrowed into the crevice. At that point I couldn't even think about the actual name for that part of the body... ass crack... my finger had traced mom's waistband into her ass crack and exactly at that moment I heard a faint yet unmistakable moan escape mom's mouth.

It emboldened me. I freed my other hand as well, placing her palm on my chest. Both my hands zeroed in on the fleshy part of mom's behind and cupped them... yes, my hands cupped mom's butt cheeks.

"Aaah! Kanna!" another moan from moan, this time accompanied by her pet name for me.

So, it wasn't just me. She was very much aware that her son's hands were straying on her erogenous zones and she was letting it happen.

My hands now started full on mashing the supple flesh on her ass cheeks.

'Kanna!" she moaned.

"Amma!" I moaned in response.

The warmth of her flesh was being lessened by the fabric of the maxi and so I started pulling it up. Inch by inch the hem of the maxi started rising up... exposing mom's legs first... and then thighs... and then her fleshy butt cheeks. My hands took possession of them, now with direct skin to skin contact. The warmth being generated from the rubbing of skin could've melted butter.

Maybe it got too much for mom... she turned around to face away from me denying my hands the pleasure of holding her jiggling butt. But she didn't move away. Her body stayed in touch with mine. Her panty clad ass pressed back on my now painfully hard cock struggling in the confined of my underwear and shorts.

But one pleasure denied was another given. My hands were now free to roam on mom's front. I had caught the hem of the maxi from falling earlier. Now I started raising it up mom's hips. My hands ran up mom's fleshy belly and encountered the bottom of mom's heavy set of breasts. I rounded up the curve and ensconced mom's tits in my palms.

"Kanna! What are you doing to me?" she moaned.

"I don't know mom... I'm not thinking right," I spoke near her ear, "I'm just doing what I feel like doing."

She was breathing heavily causing her boobs to thrust out at my open palms. There was a definite poking in the middle of my palm as well. I'd not seen it yet but the way they felt, mom had hard half inch-long nipples.

"And right row I want to hold your amminja" I breathed into her neck. I felt her body tremble.

The hair on my arms stood up as I heard my own voice say 'amminja'. What I held in my hands were not just some pair of boobs... or 'mula' in Malayalam. They were my mother's breasts... the ones which fed me milk as a child. It felt fitting to call them 'amminja' instead of 'mula'.

"Oh God... kanna, you shouldn't" she spoke in broken breathy whisper.

This had gone beyond the point where neither of us had the will power to stop what was happening or what was going to happen.

"Do you remember feeding me from these mom?" I asked.

"Oh yes," she moaned, "yes I do... you were such a hungry baby."

"I think I still am!" I said and whipped the maxi off her. I tossed it aside and pushed her towards dad's table. I then turned her to face me and pushed her torso back to make her lean on it.

My mouth was at mom's tits in lightning speed. She threw her head back in ecstasy as my tongue touched her hard pebble-like nipples.

I sucked on her tits like a ravenous wild dog.

"Oh god oh god" she moaned aloud.

I spent many seconds sucking and licking mom's large tits. Every inch of it was moist with my saliva.

Then I leaned back to look at her. There she was, my mom, in full naked splendor... wearing just a tiny black panty that even new brides would be too shy to wear.

"Oh my god! What is this thing!" I exclaimed, "Did dad buy you these?"

Mom hands went towards her crotch trying to cover up.

"No... let me see" I said and pulled her hands away.

"Kanna! please don't!" she begged, but only half-heartedly. The yearning for a man's touch was evident in her trembling body and labored breaths.

My hands went towards the string like waistband. Mom tensed and quickly turned to face away from me. She was trembling like a rain soaked puppy.

When she turned, she unwittingly presented her backside to me. The sight of the tiny string disappearing into her ass crack invigorated me.

Again I reached for the waistband. This time, before she could react, I pulled the panty down her legs.

"Oh God!" she moaned as the lips of her labia became visible to my exploring eyes.

My cock was tingling beyond toleration. I could wait no more.

I pushed my shorts and underwear down in one swoop and whipped out my rock hard cock.

Like some dance move I'd practiced a thousand times, I thrusted my hips forward and my cock slipped into mom's wet cunt without encountering any friction. It filled her slippery hole and fit it so perfectly as if God had tailored my cock specially for mom's pussy.

"Oh baby... my kanna.. you're fucking me, you're fucking mommy!" she moaned hysterically. I could tell that she felt the same way... that my cock was made for her. The pleasure and the taboo was driving her insane.

I started thrusting back and forth in and out of mom's pussy. I knew it wouldn't take long.

As I fucked her, my eyes fell on a framed photo on the table... of mom and dad on their wedding day. They were both smiling and happy. A devious thought entered my mind.

"Mom, look how happy dad is to see us together!" I said.

Mom's neck straightened as she looked at what I meant. I didn't let up a bit on the thrusting.

Mom's body shook from my thrusts... but somehow she reached forward with her left hand and knocked the photo frame face down on the table... as if she couldn't bear for her husband to see her fucking their own son. She then buried her face in her hands.

It jolted me. I didn't want her to shut out the reality. I didn't want her to turn a blind eye to what was happening. I wanted all her senses to be active.

I stopped, pulled out and turned her body around. It startled her. I pushed her down on the table facing me and mounted her.

"I want you to look at me when I fuck you Mom" I said. Lust had driven me crazy.

"Oh my baby boy... what are you doing to your mom?" she moaned.

"I'm fucking your beautiful pussy mom!" I said boldly.

I thrusted in and out, my thighs flapping against hers. I reached out and grabbed her tits while I fucked her pussy. It was too much for me.

"Oh mom... oh mom... my beautiful mom" I moaned as I came inside my mother. Tremors went through her body as she came along with me.

I spurted inside her slippery hole three or four times. It was the most intense, indescribable feeling. It felt like all that ever existed ever in this world was a mother and son's love for each other.

I brought my face close to hers.

"All I want now is to taste the nectar of your lips" I said and mom actually raised her head to take possession of my lips in hers. We kissed like mad lovers. Smacking sound of our lips filled dad's study.

I don't remember much after that. I phased out into the 7th heaven of post-coital buzz. At some point, mom pushed me off her, picked up her clothes and left.

I would have loved to end this story by telling you mom and I became lovers and fucked every day and lived happily ever after. But I must disappoint you.

As if some switch inside her had flipped off, she changed totally. The next day she took out all of dad's remaining liquor bottles and flushed them down the toilet. She became normal again albeit in quite an abnormal way.

She cooked for me, cleaned the house, talked to relatives and friends and stopped crying. It was like her grief had dried up... or had been sucked dry.

She asked uncle to find a suitable girl for me. Uncle appreciated me for taking care of mom in her time of grief.

I did try many times to initiate intimacy, but a few moments into kissing and necking she would push me away like a jolt of lightning had struck her.

I never got to see her naked again... I never got to touch her breasts again... I never got to fuck her pussy again.

It took me a lot of time and many bouts of depression to be okay with my mom's rejection.

I couldn't understand how after such divine lovemaking one could shut herself down like mom did. But after a lot of thought I realized that I need not try to understand it. I only needed to respect mom and respect her decision. I couldn't hold our love hostage to satisfy my lust for her.

Friends... this is my story.

I fucked my mother once... and never again after that. I'm grateful for the former... and I have made my peace with the latter.