The Chamar Mother 8217 s True Autobiographical Story 8211 Part 4
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While Ajit parked his bike.
More to follow. Friends, don’t ask me if it is a true story. Don’t read if you don’t like. But let me tell you, it is reality of my life, not some fantasy story. I have dared to cross the social boundary and taboo. This is real. Thanks for your response at
I was tying the belt of my pink nightie with long sleeves, when Ajit opened the door of the hall. He went to his room to change. I told him if he needs he could use Sudarshan’s gown as my husband rarely got up from the bed and his clothes were all in almirah lying useless. I must confess that night when my son donned his father’s bathrobe , I forgot he is my son, for an instant. I imagined my husband standing in front me in his youth and looking at me. I smiled to myself at this thought and felt a distinct feeling which was not the typical mother son feeling but something elevated and retrospective. I asked my son to go check on his father while I will prepare dinner.
He came back shortly after to tell me that Sudarshan had taken to bed. Both of us sat down , had a quick dinner and moved to bed. My son was still shying and as he reached my room , he was all red in the face and ears. I knew he was anticipating the last practise session. Tomorrow was amavasya. I asked him to settle on the bed. I told him that we will not rehearse the rituals today as they are meant for that occasion only. But, we shall practise the Kriya of maithuna.
I opened the book given to me by the Ojha and spreading in the centre of the bed. It had a few hand made poses with Sanskrit text written below the illustrations. My son read it aloud as the priest had instructed. I joined him in incantation as it had to be recited seven times normally before an intercourse and twenty one times on amavasya. The whole room was reverberating with sounds. Spiritual energy filled me up my heart was seized with devotion each time Aum came out of our mouths.
Finally, we bowed to the book after looking at the pose carefully. I kept it aside. I asked my son to remove his clothes now. Once again, he was shying. So I unfolded my nightie and let the belt go before it slid from my back to below my thighs and feet. I stood in lacy pink Victoria Secret panties now with a sheer pink bra on top. I used all these undies since he was a kid but never in froNt of him. I too felt shameful but then I thought of my husband. At the same time, motherly joy erupted in my body when I sensed my agency in his pleasure. I was going to be a vehicle of his pleasure. What more wish can any mother have. I went near him and took off his shirt.
As I removed his pyjama , I brushed his underwear. His linga was erect already. I felt happy that tonight he won’t need much stimulation. He looked demurely at me as I removed his underwear. His linga was throbbing now. I saw it’s blue veins carrying my son’s hot blood which had the same DNA as mine. I removed his underwear quickly. I did not remove mine as I wanted to exercise maximum eroticism to get bumper erection from my son. I wished to be sure to lure him so that he actually satiates the goddess. Otherwise, all this was useless. I had taken a big risk.
On the one hand, I had staked my chastity to my son while on the other I ran the fear of the sin of incest. I was a devout and sincere wife with no abnormaL tendencies. Already, I had crossed boundaries. Today was the second day. What if even after amavasya Sambhog , my husband did not recover. But then I thought. Scriptures can’t be false. I immensely believed in them since I was a Brahmin. My father came from the family of priests. That’s why when we eloped, I never went back to my village again. Neither did he ever go back to his. It was only recently when he was unwell that we had to return for some time.
I moved my hand to his linga now and rubbed it a bit. I wondered and complemented myself for giving birth to such a massive organ. Once again, I felt my motherly affection gripping my soul and looking at my son’s linga and holding it was like an artist, when he gets recognised for his magnum opus. It was not very big but brownish with a purple pink glans and it throbbed in my hand like a timer ticking to enter my womanhood. I was sure now that he is on fire. He was looking lustily at my breasts which we call chuchy in our local language derived from tankri’s chuchak for nipples. I asked him to remove my bra and panties and lie in the pose mentioned in the book.
He took no time in stripping his mother to the ocean of stark nudity. My hair fell on my shoulders and reached up to my breasts. In fact, when I stretch them fully , they cover my chuchies and fall near my belly button without covering it.
Then he sat in Padma asana with his erect linga throbbing with incestual energy. I moved near him and positioned myself to sit on his linga by keeping my legs on the sides of back. I had no difficulty in uniting with my son in this pose. His cock pierced through to my inner recesses as I felt maximum penetration. I was like a big tool invading my uterus like the one the gynecologists use. I felt his hands on my velvety flabby ass cheeks as he held them to adjust his angle.
I again shuddered at its reach as it reached into my lower belly now. Suddenly I reflected on God’s unique opportunity given to me in having a part of me back in me again. I felt powerful like goddess Kali who had annihilated his son. I felt like Rati taming him. I felt like the daughter of Brahma who had enticed her father to ejaculation. It fell across the layers of time when I realised that it was flesh uniting with the same flesh, I gave him birth now I take his moral, spiritual,sexual life. It is only just that a mother should take in what she gave out to the world. Why defame this holy process of creation. It is god’s will. Only a few, liberated few, can see the wisdom. And is not that what our ancient texts say. I had taken a huge risk.
I was lost in thoughts when I felt that my son had started kneading my breasts. I took my hands to his back as I sat entwined on his lap. I made a Namaskar behind his back with my hands while he stayed dug in my cunt. It was what was depicted in that religious pose in the book. He was to make love to me while I sat on him doing Namaskar. In fact, it stated in Sanskrit that this is the bow to the holy mother who creates everything, from fire and sky to earth and animals. The mantra goes as following
MatriBhaga maithuna karishayet
Ekam Tasya mudra ekah matrirupam
Kamlaaasna sthit Namaskar ev stanmardyanet
Mata kumata Bhavanti na dosha vimuchyet
Which can roughly be translated as ‘ only the vagina of one’s own blood mother is capable for sexual Union and she has got only one pose and one gesture. When the son sits in lotus feet position, and he mauls his mother’s breasts , the mother is absolved of all sins and yet she acts as a bad mother or kumata.
I mentally recited those lines once again and mouthed the last line twice. I felt enormous strength in those words as I realised their weight which said that even while doing such a dealy sin, a mother stays untarnished. It is only the mother who has been left out of all the sins when it comes to her son. Even while corrupting him, the hymns of these religious texts have kept mother pure and free of sin.
With tremendous relief and reminded of my duty towards my husband, I closed my eyes as I made a Namaskar from my hands at his naked back. He had started to gain a rhythm now. His hands were feeling the rotundity of my ripe globes and he shook them on his face in between squeezing them. My eyes were closed as I gyrated on his linga for better access. All my body movements were happening sub-consciously while my mind was rapt in Bhakti chanting again and again rthymically the name of the Lord. I was asking for forgiveness. I knew Shiva was testing me but I had a duty. I was chanting that with all sincerity and felt relieved when I mouthed it a little louder. Hardly had I said it , my son’s hands went down my fleshy buttocks and pushed them up.
As I came down, his linga slid with a greater force and at far ends. My son was now humping me as I sat doing Namaskar in his lap. I remembered all my gods, Shiva, Ganesha, Vishnu, Parbati, Kali and Durga and asked for forgiveness. I chanted each god’s been mantra as I bounced up and down in my son’s lap while my hands locked behind his back in the Indian greeting posture. He was getting faster now.
I felt his linga stretch my cunt as I went down on him and again when I moved back from him , felt as if a whole baby has been let out of my womb. I squished on him again and the big barrel invaded my secret place with greater force. He was pushing himself up too to go the deepest. I felt all this like someone soaping your body. Mentally, I was focusing on the images of Gods and goddesses mating with one another. As he hit me faster with greater force, I imagined kamadeva making love to his mother Rati is fine jewellery with head gear and royal curtains with bands singing to their divine incestual consummation. I felt them alive in my mind and I changed repeatedly to please them and also asked for their forgiveness. All this while, my son was steadily holding my velvety derrière and shaking it in his lap. His tongue was also flashing like a snake on my globular egg shaped melons.
I felt his flickering very pleasant and familiar as if it were a sensation of not long ago. His tongue was fierce at first and then he slowed and kissed them full, bit the areal is a bit, licked them like a dog, ran his tongue all over them before finally settling on them sucking one teeth and staying there like that for some time, which was his favourite childhood pose. The bosom of a mother is indeed the most pious thing and sucking a breast , be it while breastfeed or making love, it’s an act of selflessness and also it is an act which gives instant pleasure to the receiver.
Since it is meant to benefit the other, it is supreme benevolence and uplift net of spirit. It is charity and charity begins at home. A mother must always be the first to do it. And here, God had blessed me, I was doing to for both my husband and son. What more could a woman ever need as a mother. It was blissful and heavenly. My son now removed his hands from my bottom and asked me to do it.
I squirmed with unprecedented delight as I heard his words. It was what precisely I wanted to do. I wished to be the active agent in this pious act of curing my husband. I did not want my son to do any effort too. I knew , he was having sexual pleasure but even I doubted that he thought like me. It was a hoody cause and it was just a matter of chance that he was young and Virgin. I settled on my feet while our coitus remained intact and then I started to bounce to him. I fidgeted for balance at first but when I got my feet right, I took his completely in. I was humping him from the top now and he had drawn himself back a little. As a result, my humongous breasts fell straight over his mouth.
As I bounced up and down on his veiny boyish anaconda , my breasts literally slapped his face. When I drew them up a bit, he reached for them with his hands and dragged them back to his mouth. It was like he had been thirsty from centuries and only pitchers of his mother’s milk can quench his incestual drought. I jumped and my buttocks slapped his thighs. When I moved up from his shaft, a bit of air escaped from my cunt lobes and sounded like a fart sometimes or made a slithery squishy sound. Only with its wet slaps of air , I realised that I was wet down there. How had it happened.
I had never even , for a second, been sexual about my son. Was this, then, a. Natural human response. The response of a yoni towards a linga. The water and milk offerings on a shiva linga are in fact symbolic of semen. But he question here was, how can the glands secrete a juice without the mind even ordering it. Can it happen during Bhakti too. I had been meditating and chanting his name. Was this then the supreme collision of the most pious and the most debased act, a human being could perform. I was rethinking all this when my son caught my waist and started banging me.
He got faster and in a few strokes , he was holding me like an object pushing it to and fro, up and down. He pulled me to centr with full force. I exerted equal force on his crotch. He wanted to fuse his linga inside my yoni. He did not want even and inch outside. I also felt his pubes entering my vagina and entwine with my pubes. He was really deep inside me and gods knows how and when, I started gyrating my whole groin over his long hard linga.
He then , pushed himself a little down and lifted my ass again. He was making me go up and down rather quickly now. I sensed he is building up for an orgasm. I changed to my lord to give him strength to go a mile further. I called out his name earnestly.
As I mentally recited the shloka , I felt hot liquid rocketing inside me, filling me up once again after years of barrenness and neglect , Mother Nature filled up with fresh seed. Alas ! He was very quick. I broke the Namaskar pose and fell on bed. Sweat was trickling down from our bodies on the bed sheet. I don’t remember when I fell asleep thinking about virtue and sin, society and culture, morality and taboo.
The next day, was going to be a spray of reckoning
Marisol
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