Indian Igatpuri Incest Ch. 02

Meera half awoke from a deep sleep. A massive orgasm was surging through her and a huge flow of cum was flowing from her slit. Her now nightly, familiar, disjointed, visions of herself being fucked were still flashing through her mind. This time she was tied to the bedhead, kneeling, facing it, as a young male hammered an immense cock into her doggy style. She was slamming her hips back trying to take it as deep as she could. Affected by her dream and in her semi-conscious state, her hand reached out and grasped something; it was warm, semi-soft, and rapidly growing and hardening. Her fingers ran along it, stroking the two long raised ridges along its full length. At the end of the object, her fingers found a thicker, larger bulbous head that was slightly wet at its tip.

Her eighteen-year-old son, Gundu, awoke to find his semi-awake mother's hand bringing his thick fuck meat to its full hardness. Maybe even longer than his previous best of eight inches. It was happening; everything he had ever fantasised about. It was destiny. He knew he was going to have his tool inside his mother for the first time. He knew he was going to leave his seed inside her. He knew that they would fuck like porn stars, and she would say that she had never been fucked like that in her life. And he was absolutely certain that would just be the start of the two of them fucking whenever possible.

All of his carefully prepared, memorised, and replayed over and over in his bedroom, forty-eight fantasies involving him and his mother were forgotten. He had one thought only: getting his cock in her and cumming. Anything else would just follow on from that and happen. "I'm here and awake, Mum. I'll get on top and be inside you in a few seconds."

That day had started back in Igatpuri. Meera had awoken thinking of her eighteen-year-old son Gundu, nicknamed Guddu (adorable small boy), a name which was derived from the small male dolls called Gudda on sale in the markets. Her thoughts were most likely on him because her dearest child was to leave home for the first time. He was soon to leave Igatpuri for Mumbai to attend the S P Jain Institute of Management and Research (better known as SPJIMR). Normally they would not have been able to afford this, but Kanhar, her forty-three-year-old husband, had won a prize in an online lottery, and she had convinced him to spend it on Guddu's education. Not enough money to send Guddu to Australia, but enough to attend SPJIMR and hopefully a boarding house in Mumbai.

For a while, it had looked as though Kanhar's online lottery money wouldn't be sufficient to allow Gudda to attend SPJIMR, as her husband claimed there were deductions from the winnings he received and cursed the lottery owners as cheats. This was accepted by Meera, who did not know the 'deductions' hidden from her were used by her husband to pay for his sex acts with prostitutes. Actions such as, in his mind, simple things like threesomes, sex toys and insertions, watching sexfights, a bit of BDSM and so on. Things she saw as perverted, and which had caused them to have separate beds and no sex after three years of marriage. For Kanhar, a minor Government official with almost no prospects of further advancement, It was his wife's fault. Fifteen years ago, the bitch had refused his ideas to spice up their love life; It would have been far better than the monotonous missionary position she allowed him. What was wrong with what he wanted?

However, nagged by Meera, eventually, he swore he would get Gundu to SPJIMR somehow. One day he came home happy with the solution. He had contacted Meera's older sister Deepika, who lived in Mumbai, and she would let Gundu board with her at a lower than market rate, thus allowing his secret sex life to continue with the unknown, hidden money from the lottery win. Meera was not exactly happy with this as there was some bad blood between her and her one-year older sister dating back to when she was eighteen. But at least her special son could attend SPJIMR and have a future with a good job.

As she slowly gained her senses, she remembered it was the third night in a row she had awoken after a very erotic dream, during which she had cum very strongly without waking, and then as per the last two nights discovered her nightgown was caked with dried cum, therefore she would have to wash it. Fragments of her dream were in her brain: a big cock, pleasure, enjoyment, wanting more. It was very unusual as she was an extremely chaste, modest, almost prudish Indian woman who had had no sexual thoughts for the past fifteen years.

But the thirty-seven-year-old couldn't deny the evidence on her nightgown, nor the desire she had, as she had the two previous nights, to masturbate. Her hands stroked her 34B melons lingering on her nipples and marvelling at their instant response and how they hardened to at least three-quarters of an inch in length. After feeling the electricity this generated, her fingers continued their journey southward over her rounded thirty-inch belly, her thick matted patch of curly pubic hair before reaching their goal: her thick-lipped woman slit at the front of her thirty-six-inch arse.

She parted her labia lips and after a short, quick stroking of her sex trench, she felt her juices oozing from its depth. Two of her searching fingers slid inside her cunt and her thumb began its manipulation of her clit. Her nostrils dilated and her breathing became more rapid from the sexual gratification she was giving herself. As she did this more fragments of her dream solidified in her memory. The big cock belonged to a young body, and she was fucking in ways she had never experienced in her real life: doggystyle, cowgirl, sucking cock. But she could not recognise the person fucking her who was giving her so much arousal. She came once, then a second time more strongly, and a third time screaming as she squirted over the sheets. Damn, now she had to wash those as well as her discarded nightgown.

As always at this time in the morning her son was locked in his bedroom hand jobbing his thick eight-inch shaft. From its base to its wide head, his fingers traced the veins that stood proud along its length. Although of late, after her provocative late-night visit to his room, he had introduced his 19-year-old sister, the skinny plain, almost ugly, looking Prisha into his some of his fantasy settings, both singly and as a threesome with his mother and him, he had returned to a favourite. It was number thirty-six where his mother Meera, her arse filled with an anal plug, rode him cowgirl style as he sucked her big hard pierced nipples, as he had made the imaginary piercings a permanent fixture in his fantasies. He unloaded his cum into a tissue, remembering he was lucky his sister had not noticed the used pile he had beside his bed when she had barged in unannounced the other night. Then back to fantasy Number thirty-six where his mother screamed her fifth orgasm since climbing on his raging hard-on.

In her room, his nineteen-year-old sister, the skinny plain, almost ugly, looking Prisha shuddered through yet enough orgasm. She knew she was unattractive, small-titted and thin with a pockmarked face, not wealthy or educated and worked in the local laundry, but she was so horny. She thought of sex all the time. She watched porn and read stories on the internet in all her spare time. But she knew all those factors combined to make it impossible for her to get fucked.

She thought of her new hopes to overcome this. First, she had discovered her brother Gundu, only her mother called him by her special name Guddu, was regularly beating his meat. And what a prime piece it was: eight inches at least and thick. Second, she had discovered her father participating in some depraved act with two prostitutes. Both were now sources for her first fuck. She continued her masturbation. Her nipples were now one inch, standing stiff like small penises. She pulled them straight out and twisted them back and forth and then a huge cum hit like a wave and passed from her nipples through her belly and cunt. She squirted and mentally compared the distance her ejaculate had flown. A better than average distance, though not her maximum, she thought.

Kanhar, still cursing and bitter at Meera's sixteen-year lack of understanding of his sexual urges, planned his day. Although the money syphoned from the lottery winnings was nearly depleted, he thought today he would have a spit roast. One of the brothel workers would suck him while another fisted the one giving him a blowjob.

It was a normal morning for the Patil family in Igatpuri.

Later that same afternoon Meera and Guddu sat together on a second-class seat on the Igatpuri to Mumbai Central train on its two-and-a-half-hour journey to Mumbai. It was a journey to both formally sign Guddu in at SPJIMR and make the final arrangements with her sister, Deepika, regarding Gundu's accommodation. Meera had always only worn a loose kurta top that reached below her knees. Although the front and back panels were split to the knee her baggy kurta trousers ensured she displayed no flesh. But for the trip to the city, she had worn a semi midriff revealing saree convincing herself she did not want to look like a county bumpkin, although the real reason was her sister. She did not want to be upstaged by the woman she thought of as a slut.

She was surprised that Gundu had noticed what she was wearing and complimented her, but now he was sleeping; his nodding head having slipped off her shoulder to rest on her tit. Guddu, for his part, was pleased with his sleep acting and was enjoying the feel of his mother's tit flesh under his cheek.

At Mumbai Central station Deepika met them and Meera noticed the sneer on her face when she noticed the ancient, traditional styled, saree Meera wore. Deepika was thirty-eight, and looked somewhat like an older version of the Bollywood actress Ayesha Takia, famous for her 37DD tits, though Deepika's were 'only' 36DD. Her waist was a bit larger at 30 and hips the same at 37 as the ex-Bollywood star and she had a perpetual sexy look on her attractive face. Deepika's saree showed far more midriff than Meera's due to the shorter V neck, backless blouse top and lower starting point for the top of the wrapped saree over its petticoat. Meera gritted her teeth, introduced Guddu using his real name, Gunmay and they proceeded to Deepika's apartment in Dahisar. Deepika had inherited this and an annual income after her much older husband, who had divorced his wife to marry Deepika, had died of a heart attack while making love to her.

She showed the two of them the second bedroom with its double bed and a cotton floor mattress on the floor for Gundu, and after a late meal, they retired to bed. The thought of her son dressed in his pyjamas having to sleep on the thin cotton mattress on the floor broke Meera's heart, so after some prolonged persuasion and good 'reluctance' acting from her son, she finally convinced him to climb into the double bed with her. Despite acting the hesitant part to perfection, although hoping tonight his fantasy would come true, once in the bed, Guddu loosened his pyjama pants and stayed on the edge of the bed. He was hoping for his mother to roll in her sleep so that their bodies touched, electricity happened, and they fucked all night. He waited, and waited, then eventually drifted off to sleep, his mother having done so earlier.

Meera half awoke. A massive orgasm was surging through her and a huge flow of cum was flowing from her slit. Her familiar visions were flashing through her: this time she was tied to the bedhead, kneeling, and facing it as a young male hammered an immense cock into her doggy style. She was slamming her hips back trying to take it as deep as she could. In her semi-conscious state, her hand reached out and grasped something; it was warm, semi-soft and rapidly growing and hardening. Her fingers ran down it stroking the two long raised ridges along its length which was responding to her touch. At the end of the object was a thicker, larger bulbous head that was slightly wet at its tip.

Gundu awoke to find his slowly awakening mother's hand bringing thick fuck meat to its full hardness. Maybe even more than his previous best of eight inches. It was happening; everything he had ever fantasised about. It was destiny. He knew he was going to have his meat inside his mother. He knew he was going to fuck her and leave his seed inside her. He knew that they would fuck like porn stars, and she would say that she had never been fucked like that in her life. And he was absolutely certain that would just be the start of the two of them fucking whenever possible.

All of his forty-eight fantasies were forgotten. He had one thought only; getting his cock in her and cumming. Anything else would just happen. "I'm here and awake, Mum. I'll get on top and be inside you in a few seconds."

As he clumsily lifted Meera's sleeping gown to allow access to his straining cock and clambered on top of his mother, his Aunt, Deepika stood outside the door. She had been on the way to the bathroom when she had overheard her nephew's words and the unmistakable sounds of him mounting his mother. She couldn't open the door to look and confirm but she knew what was happening inside that bedroom. She walked back to her bedroom thinking about how she could best use this knowledge.

There was no foreplay, no tenderness from Guddu. Having mounted his mother, he placed his cock head at her cunt entrance, grunted and thrust for glory. The cock head penetrated her opening which was still wet from her dream orgasm. He pulled his hips back to deliver full penetration with his next cock plunge when Meera snapped to full awareness. If this was a story on an Indian Incest sex story site, then they would have fucked and fucked all night. But this is reality.

"What, What is going on. Gundu, what are you doing? I am your mother. Stop, stop, please stop. It is so wrong. It can't happen. It won't happen. Respect your mother. Please."

Guudu's cock deflated like a burst balloon. He tried to explain but the look on Meera's face was implacable and so was her demeanour as she firmly ordered him out of the bed to the cotton mattress on the floor. For most of the remaining night, he lay there sulking. Didn't she see his love for her, his need for her, her worship of her as the woman he wanted to fuck? Serve her right if she is never fucked. She doesn't know what she is refusing.

He hardly slept and was up early the next morning. Not wanting to face his mother's reproach he quietly went to the kitchen. His aunt was there, still dressed in her red nightgown. He had quickly looked at her yesterday but today he noticed more. Her huge 36DD tits were squeezed into a garment two sizes too small and her hard nipples and even the swelling of her areolae were standing proud against the thin material. The nightgown was very short ending just below her arse and clung to the two full moons of her arse cheeks. This was nothing like how Meera dressed in the morning at Igatpuri.

Deepika seemed unaware that her nephew's eyes followed her every move in the kitchen mentally undressing his thirty-eight-year-old widowed aunt as she cooked akuri, that special scrambled egg dish. In fact, so unaware that as she bent over to get a plate from the bottom of the cupboard her nightie rose at the back to show she had nothing on underneath, and when she leant to place the akuri in front of him that her nipples were visible. She sat beside him.

"I am so pleased that your father thought of you staying here with me while you study in Mumbai. I have been so lonely here alone and now there will be a man in the house to talk with, do things with like shopping or going out to eat. How long will you be studying in Mumbai?"

"Three years, four if I do honours. And I think you tease me. I will be studying in my room while you go out as I am sure you must have many men who are courting you, so you have plenty to choose from for talking or shopping."

"Indian men. Haha. They only look at women under twenty-three. Someone like me is too old, too ugly for them."

"No, they are wrong. I think you are far more attractive than a younger woman," Gundu said without thinking and he blushed when he realized what he had said.

"Thank you, Gunmay, You are too kind. I am happy and proud you are not ashamed to accompany me in public. One question, why does your mother call you Gundu?"

'It's her pet name for me. I am her adorable small boy. Only she calls me that."

Deepika leant forward towards him, and this 'unintentional' action almost burst her tits out of her nightie. She 'accidentally' placed a hand on his thigh and looked directly into his eyes. "As you will be here for four years, I hope you will think of me as your Mumbai mother and allow me to call you Gundu. I would like that very much because even though you are in Mumbai you can do everything with me the same as you do with your mother. I see you are far closer to her than most sons and unfortunately, I have never had children, so I have not experienced the closeness between a mother and her son."

The hand 'unintentionally' resting on his thigh, her looks, her nightie, and the thought if only she knew what he had fantasised about caused his cock to immediately swell. He enjoyed the feeling of this after what happened or rather had not happened, with his mother during the night and her chastisement of his actions. He had little contact with his mother before he and Deepika left for enrolment at SPJIMR, while Meera went out to attend to some tasks she had in Mumbai.

On the crowded bus to SPJMIR, he mentally compared his aunt to the other women on the bus. She definitely had the best tits, and best face and no one wore a saree as revealing as hers. The square opening of the blouse top showed so much cleavage, its shortness showed all of her belly, especially as there was no way any saree could sit lower on a woman's hips, and its length left her ankles and high heels uncovered. The bus braked suddenly, and she staggered, clutching at Gundu to not fall. Her tits pressed into him as she teetered on her high heels. His cock responded and he hoped she had not felt his hard-on pressed against her.

They queued and he was processed with typical long-winded Indian bureaucracy, and he thought that would be it for the day. However, Deepika looked at her watch and said, "It's early. Please accompany me for coffee and shopping so we can talk more." They sat eating their Varan bhaat when Deepika started laughing. "Gundu, I was just thinking of that old officious man enrolling you at SPJIMR. When I signed the guardian section as your aunt, imagine if I had written lover. I think he would have died from the shock, the old sanctimonious fool."

Guddu nearly choked, and again his imagination and cock responded. His aunt continued as though nothing unusual had been said. "Ahh Gundu, it's so good you will be staying with me. Now I have someone I can talk to about important things."

She turned to face him and leaned back presenting her belly which caused her legs to press against Gundu's though she 'seemed unaware' of this too. "I have been thinking of getting a belly button piercing, but part of me says that is stupid, you are too old for that." Somehow her hand was 'miraculously' on his thigh again and his cock responded once more.

"Of course, you are not too old. It would bring attention to your belly. Most women would die to have a belly like that."

She beamed with delight 'absentmindedly' stroking his thigh as she replied. "I already feel close to you, value your opinion and know we can talk about anything. Do you think a jewel stud or a hanging chain would be best?"

She agreed with his choice of, and reason for, a double hanging chain as it was different from what other women would have and would gain attention, thanking him and saying it would be perfect, but only if he helped choose it. Emboldened Guddu brought up one of his fantasies, ankle chains, and Deepika almost purred in delight at the thought of wearing it. They were just discussing suitable tattoos for her when her mobile rang. It was Meera.