What Will People Say? Ch. 02

Arfa stirred to find the entire room dark. She rose up and looked around. Her gaze fell on the clock mounted on the wall. It was a simple one, a round glass sphere etched to a wooden carving that spelt 'Nikah Mubarak', a gift from relatives on her husband's side. The time was 7:15 in the evening. She realized both of them had slept through the afternoon. And what an afternoon it was.

She fell back on the bed, one of her leg hanging out of the bed and looked sideways at her sleeping son. He was blissfully sleeping, unlike his father who constantly snored loudly. She stroked his back with the outer sides of her palms. Both mother and son were still naked after the evening's activities, their bodies soaked in sweat and perspiration from the midday heat. Though sweaty, Arfa still wanted to hold her son, so she scooted over to him and draped an arm and a leg over him. Not wanting to wake him him, she breezed her fingers on her son's hair, soon closing her eyes and beginning to drift into endless thinking.

Her first thoughts were to her son's prowess in bed. He was obviously inexperienced and had quickly finished dumping his load inside her. She had felt him struggle to hold but had ultimately given up after a few forceful thrusts. She had also waited for the full force of the guilt to come upon her, but it never arrived or at least it didn't materialize. The whole incident felt weirdly normal to her, if she could bring herself to ignore the fact that the boy who was making love to her, was her own biological son. The same son she had carried within her for months, before delivering him in the claustrophobic maternity ward of the General Hospital. The same son whom she had breast fed and looked at adoringly as he suckled her. The son whom she had bathed countless times, naked, without ever experiencing any sort of embarrassment, instead taking joy in her son's innocent smile and high pitched yells. And now she was lying naked with her son in bed, just having had sex with him and stained the bedsheets with both of their love juices. Arfa kissed her son, Salim on his shoulder and removed herself from the bed.

She stood on her toes and arched her back, cracking a few joints here and there, and yawned heavily. Her eyes immediately fell on the mirror which was attached to the almirah and she took time to admire herself. Her sister Nafisa, had told her about sagging breasts and even showed it, much to her chagrin. But it appeared to be needlessly feared, as Arfa saw hers were perfectly in good shape. They had grown instead, but retained their shapes. She felt them with her hands and pressed them. Softer, not tight too. She flicked her long, wavy hair and stroked her neck, then turning partially, looked at the reflection of her ass. They used to be tight, when she was younger, but after Salim's birth, her hips had widened pretty much everything beyond her waistline, giving her a ass filled with fat. Was this one of the reasons why her husband left her for another woman, Arfa always asked herself. While washing her face and vagina in the bathroom, she kept pondering the questions regarding her husband's leaving her. But thinking them pointless now, she headed for the kitchen.

Feeling the kitchen too hot, she opened one of the smaller windows above the stove and immediately heard the sound of snare drums at a distant. She peeked through the tiny gap between the rails and saw a procession passing through the main road, which was just a street ahead of them. She came back to her world and found herself stuck in her mind again. Perhaps she wasn't strict enough, with her husband, with Salim. If she had been just a bit adamant she might have stopped her husband from leaving, but then again did she really want to stop him or was she secretly relieved he had done so?

Even with Salim's education, when her son had expressed his displeasure and boredom at school, he was sent to the local Madarasa by her husband saying that they imparted 'real' education. Much to her unhappiness, she had allowed but ultimately Salim had stopped going there too. Somehow passing his school, when the time came for college, Salim had just warded off the topic till it was too late to enroll and he ended up staying in the house, his presence hardly noticed with the marriage problems Arfa had found herself facing. Arfa never wanted to be a strict woman, she would be, but not always.

Salim stretched himself on the bed searching for his mother's body and when he didn't, he looked around in the darkness for her. He got up to check the bathroom, seeing her not there, he urinated then went to the kitchen hoping to find her there. Sure enough she was there. Still naked, her exposed skin, reflecting the pale yellow street lights. He went behind and embraced her, cupping her breasts and rubbing between her ass cheeks with his erect dick.

"Slept nicely, Salim?"

"Yes ammi. By Allah, are you wet already?"

"I believe it's just you rubbing against me that's got me excited. But enough, I need to prepare dinner first."

"I'm not hungry." Salim said, pulling on his mother's waist and turning her around to face him.

"Hmm, sach kahun to (truth be told), even I don't feel like being in the kitchen for a minute longer." Arfa smiled and tried to prevent her son from plastering her face with kisses, as he held onto her.

Salim parted away, then placed his lips on his mother's softly, just enough to feel them. He did it again. Then he dove into her mouth and locked her tongue with his, swirling inside her mouth both mother and son stood in the kitchen. His mother was shorter by a few inches, so Salim had to bend down to kiss her.

When they parted, both were panting for breath. Salim noticed his mother's face, for the first time since the afternoon. She looked flushed with color, her eyes a bit teary, her oval face white like the rest of her body and dark hair that fell on her shoulders. Her lips looked redder than usual. Touching them with his fingers, he parted them and brushed it across her teeth, while gauging his mother's reaction.

"Ammi, is that lipstick you have on you?"

"Hmm, why, doesn't it suit me?"

"No, it's just that I haven't seen you do so before."

"Salim, I have applied it before, it's just that seeing me differently has probably changed your mindset about me."

"I don't think so..."

"No? Aren't you already wondering about how you want your mother to dress up hereafter? How you want her to look, after today? Has that thought already crossed your mind or is it beginning to?"

"You mean what I think, according to me, about you and the way you dress, is it Haram or not? Is that what you're asking?"

"We both are way past thinking about Haram, now that we are a sexually involved couple, are we not?"

"There you have it. I still believe you have some misgivings about our relationship after today."

"Of course I do. Every minute after I was awake, my mind has been numb by constant questions. For instance," Arfa crossed her legs as she stood against the kitchen platform, looking at Salim who was sitting in a chair, "Will I be treated like a whore by you, for the rest of my life? Or whether you will ever come to terms with the fact that our new relationship, though highly immoral, can end once you get married? Or will the prospect of fathering a child, which is possibly taking form in my womb for your senseless and impassioned act of impregnating me, scare you away to finally abandon me?"

Salim sat quite dumbstruck by the questions and a brief moment of silence passed.

"Ammi, firstly, I can never think of you as a whore. Please. I do want you. I want to fuck you, my dear mother. I want to fuck you senseless. Ammi, tujhe patak ke chod ne ka mann karta hai (a vulgar slang to denote hardcore sex). But also believe me when I tell you that if you don't want to certain things, I will stop. And about my marriage, I really don't know, but keeping it aside... Ammi, if you are truly pregnant, with my seed in your womb, then trust me I will not leave your side. Ever."

Arfa tucked her hair behind her ear as she heard her son finish speaking. She turned to the half open kitchen window and looked outside.

"It's easier to say than act, Salim." Arfa felt her son stand up behind her and place his hands on her ass. She sighed heavily, letting her head droop, as she felt his dick against her pussy pushing into her from behind. She didn't protest and allowed his intrusion into her.

"Gently, Salim. Gently, there's no rush." Arfa reached between her thighs and held her son's dick in her hands, before guiding it into her pussy. She closed her eyes, her lips sealed in anticipation, as she felt her son completely penetrate her till she could only feel his balls outside in her hands. She quickly took support of the kitchen platform and held onto its edges, as her son began to thrust inside her. She felt herself involuntarily bucking against his thrusts, her hips moving in tandem with him, as he ploughed himself deeper into her.

Her son was right, when he had mentioned about having a small penis, but the flood of emotions in her, when she was being rammed by her own son, was enough to forget the matter of size. Arfa felt her son's hands on her neck, as he fucked her from behind and pull her back to meet him. She arched her back.

Salim kissed his mother's cheek, still slowly moving inside her. It made him so horny to be able to control his mother like this. He looked down at his mother's legs which were taut, tense and stretched. Her heels caught his eye. He slowed his pace and eventually stopped, still lodged deep inside his mother's pussy.

"Ammi?"

"Ye...yes?"

"I just wanted to say, Shivam's mother has these anklets that adorn her legs. I've always fantasized about fucking a woman, while hearing her anklets jingle."

"Why? Am I not enough?"

"No, ammi. It's just a fantasy."

"Why are you talking so much?"

"The first time, Ammi, in my desperation I just wanted to fuck and get it over with. But now, I want everything to go slowly." He resumed his pace and began to fuck his mother again. He smelled his mother's hair and got the musk of her sweat drenched body. Despite being the evening, the heat of the house hadn't quite cooled yet. He reached over his mother and grabbing the rails of the window, rose up on his toes and began to pound hard into his mother.

The shock of the sudden fast thrusts into her, made Arfa breathless while also making her intensely passionate. Her son groaned behind her, while she reached for his back, with her hand around him.

"Ooh!...Ah!...Ah!..." Arfa moaned aloud, while her son grunted behind her in response. Salim realized he was about to come. He tried desperately to hold back. He pushed open the windows completely exposing them both to the outside world. Arfa looked at what her son did, but hardly had energy left to complain.

"Ammi, I'm close...I'm going to come." Arfa held onto him and didn't respond, giving a clear indication she wanted him to come inside her. Salim obliged and soon erupted inside his mother, sending hot jets of his semen into her womb. Salim let it all flow, till he was satisfied and sat back on the chair behind him, marveling at his mother's expanding and contracting ass.

The bell to their house rang and both mother and son froze. Salim immediately grabbed a pair of shorts and headed to the door, while his mother went to the bedroom and grabbed a red color dupatta (loose cloth in Chudidhar that women wear over their shoulders) to cover her head. Just as she was about to dress up, she heard the door shut and her son call out to her.

"Ammi, it's ok. They left. You can come out."

Arfa came back to the dining room, where they both were just moments ago and saw her son removing his shorts. Salim glanced up at her and smiled.

"You look nice in that." Salim said pointing to the red headscarf that his mother was now wearing.

"Who was it?"

"Shivam and his friends. They called me for the festival outside."

"So...aren't you going?"

"No. I would rather spend my time here, with you." As Arfa began to remove the headscarf from her head, Salim told her not to.

"Why not?"

"I really want to fuck you like this. With you wearing that in your head." Seeing his mother give him a funny look, Salim added,

"Let's just say, I watch a lot of Hijab porn. So Ammi, please will you do it?"

"It feels stupid, but...ok." Salim beamed like a child and stood looking at his mother, tugging at his cock. He suddenly seemed like he got an idea. Arfa on the other hand was quite tired. She definitely did not possess the same strength and stamina her son had and seeing him masturbating, while looking at her made her feel like a Randi (street whore) which made her feel disgusted yet at the same time proud to be evoking such feelings from her own son.

"Ammi, why don't you suck me?"

"Ok, sit in the chair." Salim sat down and watched his mother tie her headscarf securely around her head, before she knelt down in front of him and using her hands, she began to stroke his dick. After a few stroked, Arfa leaned forward and used her mouth to suck her son's dick. Salim spread his legs wide and placed his hands on either side of his mother's head, as he got a blowjob from her. His mother's mouth felt amazing on his dick and he felt it harden every passing minute inside her mouth.

Arfa gulped her son's dick in her mouth and swallowed him whole, taking him into the depths of her throat, before gagging and coughing. She sat back on her folded legs, watching her son wriggle in the chair as she stroked him up and down, the entire length of his dick. She saw Salim look out of the window and laugh.

"What is it?"

"I just scared off one of our neighbors. She caught me looking at her and fled inside her house."

"She must've thought you were jerking off." Both Arfa and her son laughed, while Arfa used her tongue to lick the underside of her son's dick clean of saliva and precum. Salim looked on in awe, as his mother cleaned him like a dog. The red headscarf, that imitated a hijab around his mother's head made him even more aroused as he smoothened his mother's ears. Salim stood, his dick still in his mother's mouth and he began to ram deep inside her, forcing his way into his mother's throat and holding her head in position.

Arfa's eyes widened but she held on helplessly onto her son as he brutally throat fucked her. She began to choke on his dick and she felt her vision blur as she began to feel tears forming. Even though uncomfortable, Arfa felt this raw animalistic desire to be used up by her son and when her son grew tired of pounding her throat, to Salim's surprise, he saw his mother gobble down his dick and bob her head furiously on his dick, taking him deeper in her throat. He pulled back his mother's head from him and looked at her. Her eyes were all wet, along with her mouth. Her red headscarf was completely undone, as was her hair. Saliva was oozing from his mother's mouth and dripping down her breasts, making them shine.

"No more, Ammi. Or else I'll end up coming inside your throat. Though I want to, I think we'll be more comfortable when we go to bed." Saying that, he pulled his mother up and led her to his bedroom. Compared to his mother's bed it was small, but they both didn't need much space anyway. A brief amount of caressing and kissing each other passed between them. Then as Arfa lay down on the bed, Salim towered over her. Arfa looked back, her back facing her son, while she tickled the tip of dick with her toes.

"Ammi, were you ever... Have you ever taken it in the ass?" Salim hesitantly asked.

"No. And before you ask, I really have no intention of subjecting myself to that kind of degradation."

"What's so degrading about that?" Salim asked as he lay down on top of his sleeping mother's naked back.

"That's how animals fuck. Plus, it hurts. So please don't. Ok?"

"Well, sorry Ammi, but this is too good of a temptation to resist."

"Wait, Salim, no don't..." But Salim was quick to muffle his mother's mouth and held her down, while he parted her ass and lubed her ass crack, with his mother's pussy juices. He could see her clench her asshole and she was also wriggling beneath him. He tried to cajole his mother.

"Ammi, khuda kasam, I'll be gentle. Please don't struggle so much." Feeling for his mother's asshole, he poised his penis head to enter. He felt her stiffen for a while, before struggling again. Salim knew that he was about to hurt his mother, but somehow he actually was beginning to enjoy the fact and tried to mute out his mother's muffled pleading. He slapped her ass cheeks hard, making her wince and then rammed into her pussy to fuck her harder than before. He was rising above her ass and slamming it hard down on his mother.

Arfa shrieked in pleasure. Her son was hell bent on torturing her body for his sexual pleasure and though disappointed at being treated this way, she understood to some extent. After all, how many boys of his age would be successfully controlling their urges to fuck every hole, with an eager woman in their hands, that too their own mother?

Arfa again felt her son press onto her asshole and this time, miraculously, she seemed to ease herself and the opening was enough for Salim to broach her ass completely.

Salim felt his mother let out an unearthly scream and then fall silent, before he held his mother's hands back pulling on her wrists like it were the reins to control her and Salim began to fuck his mother like that, like a horse, his mother's mostly unresponsive body just stayed still.

Salim felt a vague difference in his mother's ass. It was tighter and harder, more compact than his mother's vagina. He leant over and saw his mother crying. He stopped mid thrust.

"Ammi, are you ok? Should I stop?"

"No." Salim saw his mother sniffle. "Don't stop now. Or else I won't adjust and I will forget the pain. Do it. Ram into me. Aur jor se teri Ammi ki gand mar (rape my ass)."

"Ammi, I'm sorry... I didn't mean to..." Salim struggled to convey his regret at forcing his mother, but Arfa didn't allow him to speak further.

"Get the pillow and keep it beneath me to raise me. I need...Salim, listen to me beta, it's ok. I'm not angry, just do as I say. As you use my ass, I need you to rub my pussy, can you do that?"

"Yes Ammi. I will." Salim grabbed the pillow nearby and followed his mother's instructions. He bent over his mother's body and as he began to move, he used his fingers to caress his mother's cunt lips. Soon he was back to his former self and began to ram harder inside his mother's ass.

"Jor se. Harder. Harder. Salim, don't you dare stop now. Own your mother. Own my body and my ass." Arfa hurled abuses and sex slurs that shocked Salim. He couldn't fathom what had entered into his mother, but he didn't stop fucking her.

Salim felt his mother shake and shiver, her whole back twitched and her hands flayed, indicating she was experiencing a powerful orgasm. Salim got a hold of her hands and kissed them, while soothing his mother's back, as he continued to fuck her. He soon began to feel his balls tense and he lay down on his mother completely consuming her, he held onto her head and dry fucked her ass, before shooting his come deep inside her ass with a series of satisfying thrusts and grunts. He still pumped several times inside, his limp dick rattling into his mother's ass.

As they both tried to regain their breathing, Arfa told her son, that when Salim forced himself on her, she was reminded the first time she was taken by her husband. He had forced himself and fucked her like an animal. Somehow, Arfa said, she began to make peace with her own son's forced fucking her and even enjoyed the experience.

As Arfa cradled her son's head on her breasts, she stopped worrying about the future and decided that if she was satisfied with her son, then there was nothing that was about to stop her from continuing this taboo and forbidden union with her son.