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Click hereStill more important, my greedy pussy was glued to his lovely mouth. I was feeding him again, this time our mixed juices, but mostly mine as his had largely oozed out of me as I was on top.
I could decipher his unconditional love exuded from his mind and body. Love never lies, even behind the veneer of white lies, there lies bottomless goodwill. In those sedated moments, it dawned on me that love never dies, and when one dies love is unfettered from the deluding grossness. Only one has to be true to one's feelings in the name of love. Jocasta flunked because she dreaded the force of love. Oedipus tasted the truth that lies low in every mortal form in human form. But then there is society and it s prudish pretentions. Society did not come through when I was alone and tied to deprecating privations. Sign posts are an integral part of social engineering. This moment marks the happy denouement of my lonely life and there is no tomorrow to frown at me menacingly. We strain for nothing when brain takes over, we ease into a lovely strain when love takes over. Happiness has to be the way and not the end.
'You are spoiling me and even my business,' I happily observed.
"Here real big pussiness is involved, business can wait because your pussy will be busy hereafter,' he said with a glee.
Now that we have each other, I realized that physical love is the crowning moment of a standing mutuality. I guess I have regained the music of life, riding the magic carpet of love. No I realize with a sad satisfaction that life is not success alone. The meaning of life lies in yielding, sharing and sacrificing. I cannot deny my body to my beloved and I cannot deny my body what it needs, I cannot deny my soul what it needs.
Thus our life into an eternity began, finding solace and happiness in each other. Still I will let him service Maria, when I am on my periods. But he loves to make love to me even when I am on my period. It is enticing and exciting to me. He even wants to make oral love to me during the monthly ooze also. May be we will try it one day. In love there are no taboos. In love there are no contradictions.
I looked forward to a long time of present moments pleasantly basking in the sun of my son. When all is said and done, these sadly happy memories will remain.
- COMMENTS
junamalmost 4 years agoThank you for this story. As always, your style of writing creates wonderful images in the reader’s mind. The struggles of a young single mother, her own yearning for love, the realisation of Maria’s seduction of her son were well described. By rationalising her desire for her son, Maria’s decision to mate with Allen is made straight forward, and how erotic is it!
alo0ozabout 4 years agoif he was so much enamored with his mother he would not have had sex with maria.
Anonymousabout 4 years agoThank you for sharing your efforts and your story. It is a nice dizzy thought; the love between mother and son. The divinity of her body is essential and at the core of our beliefs. Whether it is Malankara or Jacobite, she lies at the altar and awaits her brood, to come back, be grateful and to worship this holy being. Being grateful for life and the earthly pleasures is a son's duty.
Drinking from the fount of life is a joy and more so for a son. However, the quick shift to the act takes away much of the adventure of discovery. They are both there to give each other joy and it can be long-lasting.
Imagine the humid climes of Kerala and the sweaty crevices and orifices waiting to be discovered. There is no need for coconut oil. We can leave it for the dishes. Her essential oils are irreplaceable. They are the spice that make the son's life a joy
Anonymousabout 10 years agoTo those who dont know, the syrian christian community is a fairly large community in kerala , a malayalam language dpeaking state. Their density is large in the city of cochin. Google it if you will.
Source : I am from a neighbouring state & have friends from this community
Scotsman69about 10 years agothe ignorant (probably US male) commenter about Syrian Christians.
He's a lot further, both geographically and in understanding, from the seat of Christianity than you are.
Ignorant US shit.
Beautiful story XX
Scotsman69about 10 years agobut a good start. You have talent. Use it, and an editor might help you a wee bit.
Thank you for this.
Anonymousabout 10 years agoYou write well, but in a case of a mom/son relationship, there must be a natural and very strong sense of reluctance from the mother towards breaking this strongest of the taboos.
That is not the case for the son however, who is not only forced by his raging hormones at the age of 18 to get in to any and all pants, but also the almost universal (though mostly hidden) desire for most sons to possess their mothers, as if competing for her with their fathers.
Such stories are of course part of ancient literature from most of the oldest civilisations.
So for a mother to almost casually accept the son as a lover is not believable.
There has to be substantial amount of guilt for the feelings that she has for the son and so she must fight very hard to try and not give in to her son’s taboo desires.
Writing anonymously, (since using a "name" here at the Lit would be, havin a laugh! letmein90202
Anonymousabout 10 years agoI firmly believe that what excites a boy the most, what gets his cock harder than it's ever been before, throbbing hard, isn't the sight of his own mother's mommy-hole, as wonderful as that it. It's the sharp musky aroma wafting to his nostrils from between his mother's legs that he inhales deep into his young lungs, it's his own mother's cunt-smell. Like lots and lots of boys, many more than a scared society cares to know, Allen has been worshipping his mother's cunt in his mind for years. For him it's not only the most beautiful cunt in the world, it's the most beautiful anything. He's whacked off numberless times picturing it, thinking of gently stroking it, passing his hand over the lovely hairs surrounding her mommy-hole, slipping a finger or two inside and feeling his mother's gushing wetness. He'd love to shove his head between his mother's thighs and clamp his tongue and lips, his whole greedy mouth to it and slurp it half to death, paying a son's tribute to the hole he came out of, his own damn birth canal. Allen is a very lucky lad, because his mother not only loves him to pieces, but she's also a very wise and sex-savvy lady. She knows between his legs her boy's got something that can do her a world of good. It's nicknamed "Mother's Salvation," or sometimes "A Boy's Meaty Mommy-Pleaser," or other cute names that all mean one thing--her son's big hard cock. Boys like Allen who get to fuck their own mother are an elite, envied by all the other boys, tens or hundreds of thousands of them, probably more, who'd love to do the same thing but are too wimpy, too much scared asshole losers, to even try. They can only imagine with pitiful jealousy the fierce pride of the grinning young motherfuckers who jam their hard young cock up their mother's warm wet twat, slam and pound it till she nearly faints, and blow their hot young balls shooting their baby-batter up where they were once a baby. For these boys and their moms it's the best that life has to offer.
