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Sunday, September 28, a true story of sushma darling- my fav story ever written Hi guys. Time for a hot story. This time it is a true story of real love and lust between a mother and son which happened in India. Yes this is a true story. So read carefully because there might be another mommy lurking in the corner for you. This happened as I turned sixteen. I was just out of class tenth and so far I had studied in a boarding school. This was my first time in my life to stay with my parents. My father was a doctor with state government and was posted 35 km from home. His name was Dr. Now let me describe my mother, sushma. She is very fair with beautiful lips and eyes. Her chochies r not that big but they are shapely and inviting. She often wears designer bras which are usually pink in color. She used to dress up in full nighty at night while kneading the floor and doing all household activities. I have rarely seen her in saris, she wears a salwaar kameez usually. But she has very sexy shiny skin with a little hair at the back of her arm. She usually baths at ten when is about to sleep. We often hugged each other very much. But on coming back from boarding college, I started getting sexual enjoyment and I often felt bad at it. She was after all my own mother. The more I told myself that I more horny I got now. I got her pics taken in the day and replaced them with the bodies of the sluts I had and saw my mommy in all those poses. Everyday I used to do that. I was getting hornier by the day. One day I even stole her used panties. They were lacy red n smelled a heavenly scent of her cunt smeared with her urine. I was an intoxicating smell and I went mad after it. There was even some pussy hair on that panty. I ate those hair, kissed the panty, sucked it n masturbated. Then it became a habit. This went on for some time. I was sixteen and I was so horny. Then one day something happened. As it was summers in north India, the heat grew worse and my father came home with an A. My father returned to his job after few days. At night, it was quite hot and my mother came to me and said. She was dressed in a flowering light pink gown. I could make out form its shape that she probably had just panties on. It is so hot here. My stepbrother vijay and sister mannu were sleeping in the other room. Mannu was 17 and was real good looking girl. I saw at her in sleep and gasped. It had a pink bulb on and it made the room look so sexy. The bed was a king size and there was satin bed sheet on it. The room looked so tidy. My mother had even played light Indian classical instrumental music to add to its sexiness. The room was so tidy and clean, and it looked like the newly weds room oozing with sexiness and waiting for a fuck. My mother came to the room and bolted it from inside. She had flowers on her hair which smelt of jasmine. The whole atmosphere was electrifying. How could I control, myself. I went up to her and took her in my arms and planted a kiss on her lips. She drew me back and said. What are you doing to me? I am married to your father. I just love you mother. She instead pushed me back and said how I could even think about it. Then after some silence she said. Now tell me do you want to marry me. Tell me is that what my son wants. Marry his own mother! My goddess, I love you so much that I worship you. Marry me for love mother. I slept next to her and could see her beautiful breasts heaving with breath. I could not hold myself and placed my hands on her chuchies. She had no bra and I felt right up to her nipples. This time there was no objection. After a little cusping and kneading she said. I woke up only to see my mother and kids gone. She came at the afternoon and told me to get ready. She had already brought me a wedding suit to wear. She dresses up in a sleeveless noodle blouse and came back in a firing blazing red wedding sari. She had a lot of ornaments too. She really looked like a goddess. She came close to me and said. Only the blouse is different. This temple was famous for incestuous and unholy practices of marriage and it also had a few devadasis. We reached the temple and the priest took us to a corner where there was a pandaal in the center and a few people had gathered. She took me there and I sat next to her as the pandit started reciting mantras. I looked at my mother. She looked so beautiful dressed as a bride. I felt as in dream. And who were all these people my mother had gathered to witness the tying of our unholy incestuous knot. I took it and smeared it in her head taking her as a wife. My mother smiled as she had one already. I quickly removed the one tied by my father and tied my mangalsutra, the symbol of our union, around her neck. The pundit got up and told us to take seven rounds of holy fire. My mother walked in front and I followed her as we circled the holy fire which burnt all other bonds we had. Now I was her husband and she was my wife. After rounds of fire, people threw flowers on the newly married couple and exchanged greetings. What a wonderful thought it was that I had married my mother. I felt like the luckiest son in the world. When we got home she said that by going round the fire I had married her for seven lives. I got close to her and took her in my arms before planting a full mother son French kiss on her lips. Show me how much you love me. My mother had cleverly sent the children to her parents place. Now we two were alone at home. It was already evening when we reached home.
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