I perhaps was the last joint venture of East and West Pakistan. My father was a Punjabi, while my mother was a Bengali. They met each other when Bangladesh was East Pakistan. My father was a government official from West Pakistan who was posted in East Pakistan. Despite growing tensions between the West Pakistan army and the Bengali public, he married a Bengali girl called Jharna.

He moved back to West Pakistan along with her just before the creation of Bangladesh. After the creation of Bangladesh, the behavior of people changed a lot. East Pakistanis hated West Pakistanis, and West Pakistanis hated East Pakistanis. Facing a strong bias against her, my mother, I started pressing my father to let her go back to her people.

Her request was delayed because of my birth. My father tried to convince her that as soon as things would be normal, he himself would take her there. They kept quarrelling for two more years. Then, one day, my mother left Pakistan with some other Bengalis without telling anyone. She managed to go back to Bangladesh, leaving me the sole responsibility of my father.

My father had no option but to remarry for running the household. I grew up under the indifferent attitude of my stepmother. Soon she had two children of her own and had no time for me. My father decided to deposit me in a hostel. To my bad luck, I looked more like my mother than like my father. Knowing I was the son of a Bengali mother, my schoolmates called me Bengali.

In Pakistan, it was a sort of tease word. Time passed quickly, and I grew into adulthood. As I did my graduation, my father died. This set the chains of events over which I had no control. My stepmother took hold of the property left by my father and asked me to live on my own. It was then the idea of meeting my real mother crossed my mind.

It was twenty-one years since my mother left me, and it was not easy to trace her again. It took me another year to trace her whereabouts from my relatives and from some Bengalis I met. They told me a lot about my mother. After leaving my father, she married a local man who worked in a private firm. He was a drunkard and was least interested in anything other than wine. I was also told that my mother remained childless during these years.

After knowing all this, I wrote a letter to my mother and asked her to accept me back. Soon I got her reply, in which she told me that she and her husband would be happy to meet me. She advised me to learn some Bengali before coming to her country. On her advice, I learned some Bengali and bought the air ticket for Decca. Now nothing could stop me from my Bengali mother.

I was glad to see that my stepfather was already waiting for me at the airport. As soon as he saw me, he gave me a hug and took my bags. My stepfather was lean and black. To me, he appeared a worn-out man in his fifties. I asked about my mother, and he told me that she was at home getting the house ready for me. What would she look like? I wondered.

As soon as we arrived at her house, she greeted me. Since she had married when she was seventeen, now she was around 40. My mom was not really beautiful or even fair-colored, but her big black eyes and long black hair were defying her age. Her breasts were quite big, and the roundness of her bottom made her look very feminine. She was wearing the traditional Bengali dress, sari, which hugged her body in all the right places. She was plump— there’s no other way to put it—but she was looking very clean. She gave me a big hug and kiss as I entered the house.

“Hey, Son, my God, you’ve grown,” she said as she let go of me.

“Thank you, Mom. I am really happy to see you.”

“Why don’t you go ahead and put that entire luggage in that room?” She waved to a room in the corner of a veranda.

The house was not big. It had only one floor, and there were three rooms in it.

“Oh, yeah, Raja, let me help you with that stuff,” my stepfather said, picking up one of my suitcases.

He and I placed my stuff in the bedroom. He told me that breakfast should be ready any minute. I told him I would take a shower first. It had been a night flight, and I needed to freshen up. I got into the shower and started to think about the future ahead of me.

I settled with my mother and her husband quite nicely. I told them that I didn’t want to be a burden on them. As soon as I found a job, I would like to live on my own. They were kind enough to tell me that I could live with them even after finding a job. Initially, my mom behaved with me as if I were a small child. Though I was not a child, I liked the attention I received from her. The start of our relationship was normal, but one day it changed suddenly for me.

The house had two bathrooms. The bathroom I was given developed some problems with its drainage. My stepfather said he would send someone to correct it. Meanwhile, I could use their bathroom. A day passed, but the problem was not resolved. The next day when I woke, it was past morning. My stepfather was gone to his office. I had an urge to go to the bathroom. I moved to my parents’ bedroom.

As I entered, I saw that the door of her bathroom was a little open. What I saw was shocking and embarrassing. I saw my mom plain naked in the shower. She was in a doggy position with her hand reaching out for something. Maybe her soap fell off or something, and her two legs spread apart in an angle position, which exposed her bushy pussy and asshole in a full view for me to see.

The shower was still running, so I don’t think she heard me opening the door of her bedroom. The view literally took my breath away. The swollen lips of her mound were slightly open, showing the pink petals of her inner flower, and I could see the darker, puckered rosebud of her ass. I tried to control myself, but my cock was not listening to any logic. Mom straightened up and reached for a towel. This was my cue to retreat to my bedroom.

I closed the door almost immediately, but the picture of my mom’s pussy was a memory for a long time to come. I was ashamed and embarrassed. I thought Mom might have seen me. The door of the bathroom was usually locked. Maybe she forgot to lock it inadvertently.

As I lay on my bed, contemplating what I saw and how bad it was morally. My dick was thinking differently. I noticed the erection that I was having. The thought of sexual feelings came to my mind together with the thought of guilt. But the sexual thought surpassed my guilt.

I began to stroke my penis slowly as I thought about my mom’s pussy and the compromising position she was in. I started to imagine my dick slowly entering her pussy in that position. That day, I came like I had never done before in a masturbation session. That day, the relationship I had with my mom changed, at least for me. I started to think about her sexually.

As I started to look at my mature mother with lust, she started to appear more and more sexy. Her breasts were large and full, and they jiggled and swayed when she walked. Men would find reasons to stop and talk to my mother. She was very careless about her dressing. Since she had a small abscess for the last five years, the doctor had ordered her not to wear any bra.

She used to walk around only with her blouse on, and sometimes the lower end of the blouse used to be open, revealing her silky big boobs. When she lifted her arms, I used to get a peek of her rock-hard nipple as well. This used to make me hot. I was passing through my Oedipus complex a little late in my life. I tried to come to terms with my wild emotions. I told myself over and over again, “She’s your mother, not some girl in the neighborhood. You can’t feel like this about her.” But I did feel that way.

One day, I asked Mom about her past with my father. She admitted that he was good to her. Leaving him and me was a mistake. She also told me that the hardest decision she ever made was leaving me. Soon, our talk shifted to the present, and she confessed that her present marriage was another of her mistakes. Clearly, she was not happy, as she started to sob.

I was having tea, but I put my cup on the table and moved near her and put my arms around her. I pulled her towards me and hugged her. We remained like that. She raised her head and kissed me on my cheek. I tried to kiss her lips. She immediately got up, pushing me away.

“What are you doing, Raja?” She was furious.

“I just...”

She slapped me on my cheek.

“Ma, I just...”

“Shut up, Raja. I always thought you were a good boy. I talked about my frustration because there is nobody with whom I can talk freely.”

“I am sorry, ma, please forgive me.” I hung my head in shame and walked towards my bedroom.

I was devastated by the insult and shame. I did not go out of my room, as I did not have the courage to face my mom again. I did not even go out to have lunch. My stepfather asked me to come out for lunch, but I told him that I was not hungry. He did not ask me again and left. I was praying that my mom should not tell him anything.

In the evening, my stepfather went out to meet someone. My mother came into my room. I was lying head down on the bed. She came and sat on the edge of the bed and moved her hand over my back.

“Get up, Raja. You must be hungry. I have brought something for you to eat.”

“I am not hungry,” I said, keeping my head down. I had no courage to look at her.

“Don’t be silly. Forget what happened and get up now,” she said affectionately.

She was moving her hand over my back, and that touch was very assuring. Eventually, I mustered enough courage and turned around. I was still avoiding eye contact with her.

“Forget everything and have this.”

She offered me a cup of tea and a piece of cake. I took the cake and finished it in a flash, as I was too hungry. My mom laughed.

“See, I told you. You are hungry; you can’t hide anything from me. Wait, I will bring some more cake for you,” she said and went into the kitchen.

She came back with a few more pieces of cake. She was now smiling. This gave me enough encouragement to finally face her. I looked into her eyes.

“Ma, I...”

“Shhhhh!” she kept her finger on my lips.

“It’s okay, son. Actually, I am feeling sorry that I slapped you. You are now grown up.”

“I am sorry, ma. You looked so beautiful. I lost control.”

On hearing this, she blushed, “Please don’t talk like that.”

“Ma, just like you, I was also frustrated. What happened today was because of this frustration. I will not let it happen again, ma. Maybe it’s time to look for a bride for me. I wish I had a wife like you.”

She looked at me. I saw she looked worried.

“OK, have these,” she gave the cake to me.

“I am sorry, dear, I slapped you.”

“No, ma, it is your right. But please don’t tell your husband.”

“Of course, I won’t let him know anything,” she assured me.

She smiled and turned around to leave the room. I could not but watch her beautiful bottom sway as she moved out. I was aching to make love to her, but the taboo of incest was coming in the way. I brushed off the thoughts and moved my attention towards the cake. I was much relieved now, and after eating, I moved to the living room to watch TV. That night, I had dinner with my parents and retired to my bedroom early.

Soon, I found a temporary job. It was not very paying, but I had to start my new life from somewhere. On a hot July afternoon, I had come back from work early that day. When Mom opened the door, I saw her hiding behind the curtain a little. As she saw me enter, she let the curtain go. My god, she was standing only in her petticoat, nothing over her upper body. I was shocked despite seeing her boobs a couple of times earlier.

“What’s the matter, Mom?” I asked.

“Oh, the electricity has gone, and it’s so hot.”

“I see.” I looked at her full breasts and big brownish nipples, and she’d acted as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Do you mind my roaming half naked?”

“No,” I replied, “It’s your place. You are free to live the way you like.”

She was right about the heat. As I moved to my room, I felt getting wet due to perspiration. Wearing only loose shorts, I moved to her room. She was lying on her bed and fanning herself with a hand fan. This was a sight that I believed I would never see. After ogling her body for a minute, I said,

“Let me do that for you.” I took the fan from her hand.

“You better come on to bed with me so you can also get the benefit of the small air,” she said.

As I eased my body beside her, some air entered from outside into the room. “This is nice, isn’t it, darling?” she murmured.

“You mean the air?”

“No, I meant lying here like this - together.”

Gradually, I began to respond to the closeness of her near-naked body ... her thin petticoat and the shorts I’d put on before climbing into bed all that separated our bodies. Her touch ... her warmth; even her smell affected me powerfully. I rubbed her bare shoulder, and she was surprised. “I am just wiping off your sweat,” I told her.

Gazing down at her back and looking at every pore of her bare skin, I was getting excited beyond imagination. I pushed aside the lock of tresses from her back and planted a soft kiss on the nape of her neck. Strangely, she said nothing for a while. I could see the impression of her buttocks ensconced inside the thin veil of her petticoat. I moved my hand softly over them.

Mom suddenly reacted strongly and pushed my hand away from them. I slowly eased myself towards my mom. I tried to drag her petticoat down over her bottom. She turned with a startled look on her face, “Raja, what is this?” she asked.

“Mom, I am only human - I can’t control it anymore -it feels like it is going to bleed - please, Mom, let me do it.” I held her tightly in my arms, crushing her to me.

She replied, “Raja, this is not right - we should not do this!”

I countered, “Don’t worry, Mom, I’ll do it in the back, just once.”

After a little persuasion, she agreed. Wrapping my hand around my cock, I lined it up with her puckered asshole. “Ektu aaste ... Babun!” (“Be Slow ... boy”) she cautioned me in a whisper. Fitting the tapered tip of my cock-head on the little ring of wrinkled flesh, I grabbed her by the hips. Then, slowly, but persistently, I began to push it into her.

She let out a stifled gasp but did not say anything. I saw the head of the cock slowly spreading the darkened circle of flesh as it relaxed and let the cock slide inside. Pulling her back at the same time, I pushed and saw my cock slide deeper and deeper into the depths of her ass.

“Nnnnnnuuhhhhhhhh,” she softly groaned as my cock stretched her asshole wide open.

“Tomar pachhata ki sundar Ma,” (Your backside is very beautiful Ma) I said with full praise for her lovely buttocks.

“Oh, no ... no more please. I am getting a ticklish sensation there.” (“Ei naa hissi-r lom er niche bhishon sursuri lagchhe sona. orokom korisna.”)

Leaning down over her, I lovingly nibbled on her arched neck. As the hairy base of my cock nudged up against the smooth skin of her up-thrust ass, I ran my hands down under her and cupped her heavy tits.

Holding myself inside her hot ass, I paused and gently tweaked her rock-hard nipples. Tugging and delicately pinching on the knobby protrusions, I felt a shiver run through her body as she pushed herself back against me, taking me even deeper inside her ass.

Slowly, methodically, I began to stroke my cock in and out of the clutching tightness of her ass. Only a month ago, I was not aware where my mother was, and now I was fucking her in her ass. Fucking her tight, hot asshole with my big cock.

I began massaging her cunt and began stroking her in the back at the same time. She began to give pleasured moans, and I knew I had opened her sensual doors. The whole episode was over in about 20 minutes -and would have continued further- if the servant maid had not knocked at the door outside.

Next day I saw Mom changing the setting of the sitting room. As she saw me, she asked me to help move a table. She was looking at me, but there was no anger in her stare. “Sure,” I said, and moved to help her. After moving the table, she started arranging flowers in a vase. I couldn’t help noticing her femaleness in the tightly wrapped sari. I don’t know why, but I walked over to her and put my hands on her shoulders and kissed her neck.

She craned her head to me and said, “Don’t do that to your mother.”

“I’m sorry, Mom, for what I did to you. I don’t know what came over me,” I said.

“It’s okay. Just forget it. Maybe I led you on,” she said.

“I’m glad you’re not mad at me.”

“No, honey, I’m not mad.”

Oh God, I wanted her badly, but time was not right. My stepfather could come at any minute. I went into the bathroom and thought of rotten fish to get my goddamn cock down. Nothing happened for the day. Only in the evening did my stepfather tell me that he was going on an official tour outside the city for the next two days.

The next day I went to work, and my stepfather went on his tour as planned. When I came from work in the evening, I saw Mom wearing a red sari with a golden border. At dinner, I asked her whether she was going somewhere.

“Oh, that sari. Actually, your father doesn’t like red. I wear it when he goes somewhere,” she told me. There was no more talk between us.

Only at sleeping time did I realize that I was alone with my mother in the house. I suddenly had a raging hard-on. First, I thought about masturbating, but then another idea crossed my mind. I took my dress off and padded down to my mother’s room. I didn’t knock. I just walked in and went over to her bed, my cock getting harder with each step. Mom was on her side, away from me. I pulled back the sheet and slid in beside her. She was still wearing her red sari. I just reached out to her shoulder and turned her toward me.

Her eyes opened. “You! What are you doing?” I kissed her and moved my hand to her breast, took the warm fullness in my hand, and felt her nipple get hard. I tweaked it between my thumb and forefinger. My cock was now full and hard, and pressing against her leg.

“How soft it is!” (O Ma! ki naram!) I exclaimed, squeezing her breasts with gentle pressure.

“Ei Babun! Ki hochchhe! Chhar bolchhi -paji chhele”. (“Stop! Stop, you naughty boy!”) But that protest wasn’t strong enough to stop me.

I moved my hand up under her sari and to her pussy, her legs tight together, my fingers rubbing her full bush.

“We can’t, we can’t,” she muttered.

“I’m sorry, ma,” I whispered. “It is too late. I’m going to take you now whether you like it or not.”

She said, “Do you know it is a sin?”

I said yes and I am sorry for that. But there was no option as I lost control of myself.

“All right ... I’ll let you love me if that’s what you need ... but listen to me - it has to be my way.”

We shared our first kiss, and I was pleased by the unexpected entry of her tongue into my mouth. She unbuttoned her blouse but left it on.

“Right,” I responded. “Strip you gorgeous woman.”

My cock, fat and straining, was bouncing in front of her. I pulled her sari off and slid her petticoat down. She lifted her body a little to help me.

“How can you like what you see?” she asked. “I’m old.”

I could hardly speak because she looked so good to me. I told her that my stiffness was ample evidence of her beauty. Up close, her full breasts looked as beautiful; they were big and translucent so that just a hint of fine blue traced through them and across her round, puffy nipples. I could see the swollen lips of her pussy that my hard cock had spread only in my fantasies; they were a bit shiny from the fluid around them. I kissed and sucked on them without really knowing what I was doing, but my mother was moaning, and that made me feel good.

I mounted her and pushed my cock up against the entrance to her wonderful tight cunt. I let my weight down on her lightly, feeling her soft flesh, her warm belly, her pussy hair against me, and her breasts against my chest. I kissed her again, and her resistance was gone. “Oh Raja,” she said, and she opened her legs.

She brought her hands down to my bottom and pulled me against her, then moved one hand under me and took my cock. I lifted a little, and she guided it to her opening. Up and down. A little in and then back out! As my cock found its way into her, I told her that it was all I ever wanted. Her wet vagina squeezed my stiff cock as I pushed up into her belly. There was no better feeling. I was fucking my mother, and she was helping me to do that. I didn’t know much more than to do what came naturally.

I started to push, and her creamy, soft thighs parted as she continued to whimper her soft protests. Soon I was buried inside her, and we started kissing again, but now with a savagery born of our incestuous lust.

“Oh God ... I can’t believe I’m doing this with my own son,” she moaned.

“But tell me you aren’t enjoying being fucked like this,” I groaned back.

‘Oh yes, I need the fuck of my son,” she whispered, insolently and rudely. “I need him to fuck me hard, more and more!”

I was so rampant now that I knew I needed to flood her with spunk so I could start again soon after. So I bent her over the bed and rammed myself into her. Her big bottom heaved back against me as I pounded away. In her orgasmic cries, she had called upon God, but more likely what we were doing was of the devil. That night, the devil received his dues.

After a while, Mom wrapped her legs around me to pull me deeper inside of her. Her own movements were getting faster and wilder, and I knew that she was ready for me to fuck her faster as well. I may not have had the sexual experience or skill that my mother had, but I did have youth and the energy that comes with it. I pounded my cock into Mom’s pussy like a jackhammer breaking a sidewalk apart. Mom was raking my back with her fingernails and biting into my shoulder to keep from crying out.

Suddenly, I couldn’t hold back any longer. Mom’s legs pulled me hard against her as I shoved my cock into her pussy as far as I could. I held it in there as I felt my cum shoot into her time and again as it flooded her cunt. She squeezed my dick with her pussy to drain every last drop of cum out of me. Our juices mingled and seeped out to soak our pubic areas. I could feel our hairs as they became matted and tangled.

When Mom and I had both finished cumming, I collapsed on top of her as my arms refused to support my weight any longer. My cock was already shrinking, but she kept her legs wrapped around me to hold me inside of her longer. She pulled my mouth to hers. We kissed for as long as we could before we were forced to separate so that our exhausted bodies could suck in the air they so desperately needed.

I rolled off of Mom and lay beside her with my arm around her. She huddled in close and rested her head on my chest. Her fingers softly stroked my chest, and she would occasionally bend her head over to kiss my chest or my neck, or to lick the sweat off of me. For what seemed like the longest time, the only sounds to be heard in that room were we breathing.

It was as if I had drunk at an ever-flowing fountain of sweet water, and the very thirst it sought to quench, it in fact enhanced. She was the source to which I would ever long to return. We were looking at each other as if we had just seen each other for the first time, not smiling, just looking in each other’s eyes. I was the one who eventually broke the silence.

“Are you sorry about what we did?”

After taking her time, she said, “No! I needed this. I used to enjoy sex so much. I just needed a good fuck to remind me how much I need to open myself up again ... figuratively and literally.”

“How do you feel?” she asked.

“Like I’ve never felt before. Wonderful. A man,” I said.

“Yes, you certainly are,” she said. “Do you feel bad?”

“No,” I said.

“Neither do I,” she said.

“I’m sorry.” I said.

“For what?” She answered.

“You know,” I mumbled, “I, uh ... I came pretty fast.”

“I take it as a compliment that I turned you on so much that you erupted so fast.”

I was about to say something, but she stood up, “Bhishon hissi peye giyechhilo (I had an urgency to pee)”, and went out towards the bathroom.

I watched down at her heart-shaped ass swaying back and forth as she walked out. I was in heaven, still lying naked on the bed. My fantasy had become a reality. Till it happened, I had never imagined it would happen. She pissed behind the semi-open door of the bathroom, and I waited. Soon, I saw her standing at the sink and washing her hands.

The sight of her protruding bottom made my heart beat faster. As she bent forward, her butt cheeks fell apart, exposing her pussy. Her invitation was obvious. With a raging hard-on, I reached behind her. Before she could turn, I spread her ass cheeks apart with both hands, aimed my cock in her pink fuck hole, and pushed. Mom groaned as I filled her tight vagina. Looking back over her shoulder, she wiggled her ass, causing my thick shaft to squirm inside her. “You son of a bitch ... let me finish.”

Gripping her hips, I pulled out until just the head was still in her. Then I pushed forward, filling her again. I watched her ass jiggle as my body slapped against her body. Now I could feel the sensation of her enveloping me, feel her wetness sliding over me, feel her warmth drawing me into her. As I got into a rhythm, I began to caress her soft ass cheeks.

After a while, I used my thumbs to pull them apart so I could watch my hard cock penetrate my mother’s inner core. I loved the way her hole stretched around my thickness, the way her inner lips vanished and appeared with each stroke. I marveled at how hot and wet she was. My cock glistened with her oily juices.

My brain began to shift into overdrive. I was once again fucking my beautiful mother. My hard cock was buried in the very hole from which I was born. It was willingly welcoming me back into its depths. And it would soon, gladly, accept the offering of hot, incestuous seed that I would pour into it. Amazing! Hot! Wonderful!

My strokes began to pick up speed. I pounded forward with more force. Soon I was driving into Mom’s cunt as hard as I could, her butt cheeks shaking each time my pelvis slammed into them. Mom never missed a beat. She kept thrusting her ass back to meet my every stroke.

I reached forward to grab Mom’s hanging breasts as they jiggled with the force of our fucking. Cupping them, I squeezed hard. Mom moaned and fucked back at me even harder. Soon her ass was a blur as we pounded at each other.

Mom’s pussy clutched at my invading cock. Her hot juices seemed to scald my shaft. The shower stall echoed with the sound of our bodies slapping together. I could feel my balls churn with my hot seed. I knew I wouldn’t last much longer.

Letting go of her breast, I reached down to stroke her hard clit nub. “Cum, Mom.” I urged.

Mom groaned at the extra stimulation against her clit. Her pussy trembled around my shaft. Reaching back, she cupped my bouncing balls and squeezed.

“Oh, fuck, Mom. I’m going to cum! I’m going to fill your hot cunt with my thick seed ... Cum with me, Mom. Suck my sperm right up into your incest-loving womb ... Shit! I’m cummmiiiinnnggg!”

My cockhead swelled and belched, sending a hot stream of sticky cum shooting up into my mother’s womb. Again and again, it jerked. Each time, it sent more of my baby-making seed splashing up into her sucking vagina, filling her hole to capacity.

Mom shuttered as she felt my hot jizz coat her inner walls. Ducking her head down, pushing her butt back tight against my pelvis, and clenching her legs together, trapping my spurting cock deep inside her twat, Mom jerked and shook through her own orgasm.

“Yeeessss, Raja,” she cried. “Cum in my cunt. It feels ssssooooo gggoood!”

Slowly, we sank to the floor of the bathroom. My shrinking cock slipped from my mother’s cum-filled pussy. We lay there for a moment, hugging each other. Mom smiled and kissed me.

I told her, “I still can’t believe I am fucking you, my wonderful, beautiful mother.”

“I know,” she replied. “Yet here we are, naked together, with your cum seeping out of my fucked pussy. And I am already looking forward to doing it again.”

“Again?” I asked. “I can’t do it again now.”

“I know, I know,” she said, “But there is always tomorrow. I want you to promise me you won’t leave me ever for any reason. OK?”

I looked her square in the eye. “I promise,” I said. “I promise I will fuck my beautiful mother every day and fill her belly full of my hot seed. I will be the best fucking son you could ever want.”

With that, we washed and headed back to bed, where we slept for the remainder of the night. The next morning, Mom proved to me what she meant when she said there is always tomorrow.

The first thing I was aware of was something soft and warm brushing against my face. I opened my eyes and stared at Mom’s red nipple as it hovered over my forehead, just before it lowered to touch my face. Mom was sitting on the edge of my bed, stark naked.