Incest There is something about my mother Asha

[kashyab]

The road stretched endlessly ahead—empty, no vehicles, no people, just the occasional flicker of distant headlights long gone. The moon hung low, casting silvery shadows over the fields on either side.
From the rear-view mirror, the driver kept glancing at Mom. She sat beside me in the back seat, her khaki shirt still half-buttoned, hem pulled down as far as it would go to cover her upper thighs. Her face was turned toward the window, but her eyes were distant, lips pressed tight, brows slightly furrowed. Worry etched deep lines on her forehead.

The driver slowed as an empty bus stop came into view—a lonely concrete shelter with a single flickering lamp post beside it, its yellow light buzzing faintly in the darkness.


Driver (voice gentle, glancing in the mirror): “You look worried, madam.”
Mom startled slightly, turning her head: “No… no, nothing…!” she said quickly, forcing a small smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

Driver (soft, knowing): “I know what you’re thinking about… all the incidents that happened today.”

Mom let out a soft, non-committal hum—“Mmm…”—her fingers twisting the edge of her shirt.


Without another word, he pulled the auto over, stopping right beside the empty bus stop. The engine cut off, leaving only the chirp of crickets and the faint buzz of the lamp post. He climbed out of the driver’s seat, walked around, and opened the back door.

Driver (calmly, to me): “Bhai, get down for a minute.”

I obeyed, heart pounding, stepping out into the cool night air. He slid into the back seat next to Mom, closing the door behind him. I hesitated, then climbed into the empty driver’s seat up front, watching through the gap. The driver turned to her, his rough hand resting gently on her bare thigh—just above the knee, warm and reassuring.


Driver (soft, comforting): “It’s alright, madam… consider it all a bad dream, okay?”

His other hand reached up, fingers gently holding her chin, tilting her face toward his.

Driver (smiling warmly): “Smile.”

Mom looked at him—eyes still glassy, but softening. Slowly, her full lips curved into a small, genuine smile, cheeks dimpling slightly.


Driver (voice tender): “That’s my angel.”

He leaned in and gave her a soft peck on the lips—light, comforting. Mom’s eyes fluttered closed for a second. When he pulled back, she smiled wider, and without thinking, wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. Her body pressed against his, breasts soft against his chest through the thin shirt.

I watched from the front, throat dry.

“Mom…” I called softly, voice cracking.

She turned her head slightly, still hugging him, eyes meeting mine over his shoulder.

Mom (voice gentle, reassuring): “Yes, darling…?”

“Don’t be sad, okay?” I said, trying to sound strong. “We’re just fine now…!”

Mom smiled at me—warm, loving—then turned back to the driver. Her hands cupped his face, turning it fully toward her.

Mom (soft, almost playful): “I’m not sad, darling… look at this man here.”

She broke the kiss for a moment, pulling back just enough for her swollen lips to part from his, a thin strand of saliva bridging them briefly before snapping. Her sharp hazel eyes locked onto his, dark with gratitude and raw desire, lashes heavy and wet from the intensity. Her cheeks were flushed deep crimson, full lips glistening with their mixed saliva, tongue darting out slowly to lick the corner of her mouth as she caught her breath.

Seetha (voice breathy, husky, laced with lust): “He saved us from all the trouble… and I am never sad…”


Before the words fully left her lips, she dove back in—mouth crashing against his with renewed hunger. The kiss was deep, sloppy, unrestrained: lips smashing together, opening wide to let tongues tangle and twist. Her tongue pushed aggressively into his mouth first—pink, wet, exploring every corner—then his met hers, curling around it, sucking gently. Soft, needy moans vibrated from her throat into his, growing louder with each second.

His hands gripped her waist tighter, pulling her body flush against him on the auto’s back seat—her heavy breasts pressing through the thin khaki shirt, nipples hard and straining. She moaned deeper into his mouth, hips grinding subtly against his thigh, arousal flooding her again.

From my POV in the driver’s seat, watching through the gap: her back arched, long wavy hair swaying as her head tilted to deepen the kiss. Saliva escaped the corners of their joined mouths, trailing down her chin in shiny rivulets. Each time they broke for air—barely a second—her tongue would dart out visibly, licking his lips before plunging back in, moans turning into soft, desperate cries.

The driver groaned low, one hand sliding up to cup her face, thumb brushing her cheek as he sucked her lower lip hard. Seetha’s moans grew louder—throaty, lustful—body writhing against him, completely lost in the moment.

My cock throbbed painfully hard in my trousers, the sight of my mother—swollen lips devouring his, tongue twisting visibly, moans filling the auto—giving me an instant, aching hard-on I couldn’t hide.

My mom’s fingers trembled with urgency as they reached for his pant zipper. She tugged once, twice, the metal teeth catching stubbornly in the dim light of the lamp post. Her breath came in shallow, needy puffs, the khaki shirt hanging open, buttons half-undone, exposing the deep valley between her heavy breasts. The hem barely covered her upper thighs, riding up as she leaned forward, revealing the soft curve of her ass and the glistening wetness still trailing down her inner legs.

 

[kashyab]

She tried harder—nails scraping the fabric, knuckles brushing the hard bulge beneath—but the zipper refused. A frustrated whimper escaped her swollen lips.

The driver chuckled low, eyes dark with lust, and stepped out of the auto. The night air was cool against their heated skin. He stood in front of the open door, fumbling with his belt, kicking off his sandals. Mom followed instantly—sliding off the seat, bare feet hitting the dusty ground. She dropped to her knees right there on the empty roadside, the rough concrete biting into her skin, but she didn’t care.

The khaki shirt gaped open as she knelt—breasts swaying heavily, nipples hard and dark against the thin fabric, the shirt barely covering her hips. From my angle in the driver’s seat, she looked impossibly erotic: hair tousled and damp, fair skin glowing under the yellow lamp, thighs spread slightly for balance, pussy lips still swollen and glistening between them.

With one hand, she finally freed his cock—thick, veined, already leaking. It sprang up toward her face. She wrapped her fingers around the base, feeling it throb hot and heavy in her grip. Her sharp hazel eyes lifted to his—dark, lust-glazed, lashes fluttering—then she blew a slow, deliberate kiss, lips pursed, tongue peeking out to wet them.

She leaned in—full lips brushing the tip first, soft and teasing. Then a real kiss—open-mouthed, warm, pressing firmly against the head, tongue flicking out to taste the pre-cum beading there. The driver shivered hard, a low groan escaping his throat, hips jerking forward involuntarily.

Mom smiled up at him—slow, wicked—lips glossy, eyes sparkling with raw desire. She kissed the head again, deeper this time, lips sealing around it briefly before pulling back with a soft, wet pop.

Her free hand slid up his thigh, nails grazing lightly, while the other stroked his shaft slowly—up and down, feeling every vein pulse under her fingers. She leaned closer, breath hot against him, tongue darting out to lick a long, slow stripe from base to tip, savoring the taste.

The driver’s hands tangled in her hair, guiding gently, voice rough with need.

Driver (low, breathless): “Madam… aise hi… aur lo…”

Mom moaned softly in response—eyes fluttering shut, lips parting wider as she took him in deeper, inch by inch, the night swallowing every sound around the empty bus stop.

With her other hand, she brought it right between her legs—fingers sliding smoothly over her swollen clit, rubbing in slow, deliberate circles. Her pussy was already dripping, juices coating her inner thighs, the fair skin glistening under the lamp post's yellow glow. She moaned softly into the air, hips bucking slightly as she pleasured herself, eyes half-closed in bliss, full lips parted with tongue darting out to wet them.

I couldn't stay back. My heart pounded, cock throbbing hard in my pants—I ran toward her, dropping to my knees beside her on the rough concrete. The auto driver glanced at me briefly, but Mom didn't stop; her hand kept stroking his thick cock—slow, firm pumps along the veined shaft, thumb circling the slick head.

I reached out, hand sliding between her spread thighs, fingers finding her hot, slippery pussy. I pressed right on her clit—rubbing in tight, fast circles, feeling it throb under my touch. She was so wet—juices coating my fingers instantly, inner lips swollen and parted, entrance clenching as I teased.

Mom turned her head toward me—sharp hazel eyes dark with lust, lashes fluttering, cheeks flushed deep rose. Her full lips crashed into mine—hungry, open-mouthed kiss, tongue pushing deep immediately, twisting around mine in wet, desperate strokes. She moaned into my mouth, the vibration sending shocks through me, her breath hot and tasting faintly of the driver's pre-cum from earlier.

All while her other hand never stopped—stroking the auto driver's cock with steady rhythm, fingers squeezing the base, twisting up to the head, spreading the leaking pre-cum down the shaft. He groaned low, hips thrusting into her grip.

Her kiss grew sloppier—tongue darting out to lick my lips between breaths, saliva mixing as she sucked my lower lip hard. My fingers rubbed her clit faster—circling, pressing, dipping briefly into her entrance to feel the slick heat—while she ground against my hand, body trembling between us.

The driver watched, cock twitching in her hand, as Mom kissed me deeper—moans vibrating against my tongue, her free hand rising to grip my hair, pulling me closer. The night air filled with wet sounds—her hand on his cock, my fingers on her pussy, our mouths devouring each other.

I yanked my trousers down with my left hand in one frantic motion, kicking them aside into the dust, my cock springing free—hard, throbbing, veins pulsing with need. The cool night air hit my skin, but all I felt was heat.

Mom’s left hand was wrapped firmly around the auto driver’s thick shaft, stroking faster now—long, deliberate pulls from base to tip, twisting slightly at the head, her palm slick with his pre-cum. She intensified the rhythm—hand flying up and down, grip tightening, thumb circling the swollen head on every upstroke. The driver’s hips bucked involuntarily, low, guttural moans spilling from his throat, eyes locked on her flushed face.

She glanced at me briefly—hazel eyes dark with lust, full lips parted, tongue darting out to wet them—then turned back to him, stroking even harder, faster, relentless. Her heavy breasts swayed under the open khaki shirt with each pump of her arm, nipples hard and visible, shirt clinging to her sweat-damp skin.

The driver’s moans grew louder, deeper—body tensing, thighs flexing. His cock twitched violently in her hand.

In a sudden, explosive moment, he came—thick, hot ropes shooting out, splattering across Mom’s khaki shirt. The first jet hit high on her chest, soaking through the fabric right between her breasts.

The second striped across her collarbone and neck. More followed—messy, heavy spurts coating the front of the shirt, dripping down over her belly, some landing on her bare thighs.

 

[kashyab]

Mom didn’t flinch—she kept stroking through his orgasm, milking every drop, hand gliding slickly over his pulsing shaft. Her eyes fluttered half-closed in arousal, lips curving into a soft, satisfied moan as the warm cum soaked into the fabric and skin.

The shirt clung wetly to her now—translucent in places, cum glistening on the khaki, trailing slowly down her cleavage and belly. She released his cock gently, fingers trailing through the mess on her shirt, smearing it absently across her skin as she breathed hard, body still trembling with need.

My mom probably thought it was my turn, and her warm hand slid from the driver’s spent cock straight to mine. The moment her fingers wrapped around my shaft (soft palm, gentle but firm grip), I felt like I was floating. Her hand was so warm, almost hot, slick from the driver’s cum and her own saliva, gliding effortlessly up and down my length. Every vein throbbed against her touch; the head leaked pre-cum instantly, mixing with the mess on her fingers. I was terrified I’d explode right there—one stroke, two, and I’d be done. My hips jerked involuntarily, breath catching in my throat.

I needed to slow this down, to make it last. My hands flew to her khaki shirt—the only thing still on her body—fumbling with the remaining buttons. One by one they popped open, fabric parting to reveal her heavy breasts fully: very fair skin glowing in the lamp light, light pinkish areolas wide and textured, very light brownish nipples hard and erect, begging for my mouth.

My mom lied on her back on silk sheets. Her voluptuous body is fully exposed—smooth, tanned skin glistening with a mix of rain residue and fresh sweat, full breasts heaving, nipples dark and erect from prolonged arousal. Her long raven-black hair fans out wildly.

I knelt between her parted thighs, shirtless, his lean, athletic torso taut with tension. My right hand gently stroked her inner thigh while my mouth is latched onto her left breast—lips sealed around the areola, tongue visibly swirling. A thin trail of saliva connects my mouth to her glistening nipple as I pulls back slightly to breathe.

My mom’s hand, previously wrapped around my throbbing cock, now slides tenderly to the back of my head—fingers threading through my wet, tousled black hair, pressing me closer. Her almond-shaped brown eyes are half-lidded, sparkling with complete surrender and maternal love twisted into raw lust.

Her full pink lips part in a deep, throaty moan—sound effect in elegant dripping font: “Aaaah… my baby…”

My mom’s body arches off the bed as I sucked harder on her “honey boob”, my cheeks hollowing. Her other breast bounces slightly with the motion. Her free hand clutches the sheet, knuckles white. Her brows furrowed, eyes squeezed shut, mouth open in a silent cry of pleasure with an expression of light pain melting into ecstasy.

She suddenly pulled my head up, both hands now cradling my boyish face. Our eyes lock—hers rich brown and shimmering with tears of overwhelming emotion, mine dark and burning with possessive hunger.

She whispers: “Karthik… my son… my man… I can’t fight it anymore.”

I responded softly: “Mom… I’ve always been yours”.

She pulls me into a fierce hug, arms wrapping tightly around my back, breasts pressing flat against my chest. Our wet skins slap together softly—sound effect: “SLAP…”. Her legs instinctively wrap around my waist, heels digging into my lower back.

I lowered my full weight onto my mom, our bodies aligning perfectly—mine compact, youthful frame nestled between her fuller, maternal curves. The visual contrast was striking: her taller, hourglass figure cradling my lean, athletic one like a protective yet submissive goddess. My face hovers inches above hers. Rain-lightning flashes illuminate our profiles—her high cheekbones, my sharp jaw. I brushed a wet strand of hair from her face with tender reverence.

Then I descended. Our lips meet in a deep, open-mouthed kiss—tongues visible, passionate and unhurried. Her hands roam my back, nails lightly scratching. My hips grind slowly, my hard cock sliding along her slick entrance but not yet penetrating—teasing, building unbearable tension.

I pulled back slightly from the kiss, eyes locked on hers. I positioned myself—hand guiding my cock to her entrance. My mom’s expression: wide-eyed vulnerability mixed with desperate need, lips trembling.

“Come inside me… complete me.”

Slow penetration—only the head enters. My mom’s back arches sharply, mouth open in a perfect O of pleasure-pain. Her hands grip my shoulders hard enough to leave marks. Close-up of her face reveals her eyes rolling back, tears of ecstasy at the corners.

“Ahhh…!”

Full insertion in one smooth thrust. Our hips meet flush—my pelvis against her mound. We both freeze in that moment of total union. Lightning flash illuminates the silhouette: mother and son joined as lovers.

I began slow, deep strokes—pulling almost all the way out, then sliding back in. My mom’s legs locked around me, heels pulling me deeper.

Her moans grow louder and more uncontrolled escalating: “Yes… harder… my son… fuck your mother!”

Her bouncing breasts, my ass clenching with each thrust, sweat flying, her nails raking my back.

Her face sparks in various stages of ecstasy—head thrown back, hair whipping, eyes completely lost in pleasure.

Wet slapping “PLAP… PLAP…”, bed creaking, her escalating moans “Aaaah! Oh god… Karthik!”

The driver sits frozen in his seat. His eyes are wide, mouth slightly open in stunned disbelief. One hand grips the handle tightly, the other unconsciously touching the damp fabric in his pocket.

 

[kashyab]

The auto is parked under a flickering street lamp on the deserted highway, rain hammering the roof like drums. In the mirror’s reflection: My mom reclined against the back seat, exposing her full breasts heaving with each breath. Her legs are wrapped tightly around my waist, heels digging into my back, pulling me deeper. I was thrusting rhythmically—my lean, athletic body glistening with rain and sweat, short tousled hair dripping, face buried in her neck as I drives into her with youthful intensity.

My hands grip her hips possessively. Ravi’s astonished face dominates the foreground—eyes wide, mouth open in a silent gasp, one hand frozen on the gear stick. Wet skin slapping “PLAP… PLAP… PLAP…”

Lightning flash illuminates the interior. I thrusted particularly deep—my mom’s back arches, mouth open in a loud moan, eyes rolling back in pleasure-pain. Her hands clutch my shoulders, nails leaving red trails.

Ravi, unable to contain himself any longer, blurts out: “Woooow..!”The word hangs in the humid air, cutting through the rhythmic sounds.

My mom hears it. Her eyes flutter open, head turning slowly toward the front seat. A breathless, knowing smile spreads across her full pink lips—equal parts embarrassment, pride, and lingering ecstasy.

I, sensing the interruption, slowed but doesn’t stop. I lifted my head from her neck, lips brushing hers in a deep, possessive kiss. My mom responds instinctively, tongue meeting mine—until Ravi’s voice fully registers. She gently breaks the kiss, a thin strand of saliva connecting our lips for a moment. Her cheeks flush deeper, but her smile is radiant, almost playful.

My mom, breathy and laughing lightly between moans: “What…?” She looks directly at Ravi now, holding his gaze in the mirror without shame—her maternal beauty transformed into something wild and liberated.

“He is one hell of a motherfucker…”The crude word lands heavily, yet in the charged atmosphere, it feels almost like a compliment—an acknowledgment of the raw power of what he’s witnessing.

She throws her head back and laughs—a genuine, throaty, joyful sound that mixes with her ongoing moans as I resumed thrusting harder, spurred by the words.

Eyes sparkling with mischief and lust, tears of laughter at the corners. Her hands move from my back to cup my flushed, boyish cheeks tenderly—even as her hips rise to meet each thrust.

“You… ahh… love to fuck your mom… honey?” The question was directed at me, her voice dripping with affectionate teasing, maternal love twisted into erotic encouragement.

My face filled the foreground—intense brown eyes locked on hers, jaw clenched with effort and emotion. Raindrops from my hair fall onto her breasts. I thrusted deeper, deliberately, drawing a sharp gasp from her.

“More than anything, Mom… I love fucking you… I love being inside you… I love that you’re mine now.”

My mom’s expression melts—pleasure, pride, and deep emotional surrender. One hand strokes my cheek tenderly.

“Then don’t stop… my sweet boy… my man… give your mother everything.”

Ravi in the background, still watching, mutters under his breath:
“Madness… beautiful madness.”

The rhythm building again—faster, harder. My mom’s laughter turns back into unrestrained moans. My thrusts become possessive, almost primal.

We both reaching peak simultaneously—my mom’s back arched high, mouth open in a silent scream, I buried deep, face pressed to her breast.
Ravi turns away at last, starting the engine with trembling hands, giving us the illusion of privacy while knowing he will carry this moment forever. We reach simultaneous climax. I buried deep, body tensed, face pressed into her neck. My mom’s body arched beneath me, mouth open in a silent scream of ultimate release, eyes shut tight, tears streaming down her temples into her hair.

Our hands are intertwined above her head—I had pinned her gently, possessively. Lightning flashes one last time, illuminating our joined forms in divine silhouette.

In the afterglow both breathing heavily, foreheads touching.
My mom whispers: “I love you… more than a mother ever should.”
I replied: “And I love you… more than a son ever could.”

My mom and I lie tangled on the back seat, bodies still joined. My head rests on her breast, ear listening to her slowing heartbeat. Her arms cradle me protectively, fingers gently stroking my damp hair. Our legs intertwined, sheets kicked to the foot of the bed. Moonlight traces the curves of her hip, the line of my back. We both have our eyes open now, gazing at each other.

 

[kashyab]

The auto driver straightened his clothes, wiping sweat from his brow with the back of his hand, a satisfied grin still lingering on his face. “Alright guys, let’s get out of here before someone shows up. I’ll drop you home and leave.”

“Yep,” Mom said softly, her voice still husky and breathless. She stood up slowly from the dusty ground, one arm crossed tightly over her heavy breasts—fingers splayed to cover her light brownish nipples—the other hand cupped firmly between her thighs, shielding her glistening pussy. Her very fair skin glowed under the flickering lamp post, flushed deep pink from neck to chest, a few stray strands of wavy black hair clinging to her damp forehead and cheeks. She moved carefully toward the auto, thighs brushing together, trying to keep everything hidden as she climbed back into the seat.

I quickly picked up the driver’s discarded shirt from the ground and handed it to him. He nodded thanks, slipped it on over his sweat-slicked torso, and climbed into the driver’s seat. I slid in beside mom again—she leaned slightly into me, warm bare hip pressing against my side through my uniform, her body still radiating heat from everything that had happened.

The auto rumbled to life and sped off into the quiet night, cool wind rushing over us, carrying away the scent of dust and desire.

Twenty minutes later, he slowed near our silent residential street, pulling over just short of the house gate under the shadow of a tree.

I hopped out first, scanning the dark lane—no lights in windows, no late walkers, no cars.

“No one around, Mom. You can come out now,” I whispered.

Mom slid out carefully—completely naked, moonlight bathing her fair, glowing skin. She stood on the pavement, one arm still pressed across her full breasts, fingers barely covering the light pinkish areolas and erect nipples, the other hand cupped tightly over her mound, fingers glistening faintly from her own wetness. Her body trembled slightly in the cool air—goosebumps rising on her smooth thighs, hips swaying as she balanced.

I stepped behind her, placing my right palm flat on her bare ass—cool from the night breeze against her warm skin.

She yelped softly in surprise, body jerking forward, a playful gasp escaping her full lips.

“Just covering your ass, Mom,” I whispered, grinning.

She glanced back over her shoulder—sharp hazel eyes sparkling with tired amusement, full lips curving into a soft, affectionate smile, cheeks dimpling faintly.

Before she could dart toward the gate, the driver called out quietly from the auto.
“Wait…”

Mom paused, turning slightly, confusion flickering in her eyes, hands still shielding her body.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out her maroon panties—the ones she’d given him earlier as a “tip.” He dangled them with a sly, knowing smile.

Mom’s cheeks flushed deeper, lips parting in a soft “oh,” eyes widening.

Since both her hands were busy covering herself, the driver climbed out and knelt in front of her on the pavement—his face level with her lower belly. Gently, he held the panties open at her feet.

“Left leg… right leg…” he murmured, voice low and warm.

Mom lifted one foot, then the other—balancing carefully as he slid the soft fabric up her smooth calves, over her knees, along her thighs. The panties stretched over her wide hips, settling snugly against her still-sensitive pussy.

He paused at her upper thighs—then reached up, gently moving her hand away from covering her mound. His lips brushed a soft, lingering kiss right on her pussy lips—warm, tender, a final intimate thank-you. Mom bit her lower lip hard, eyes fluttering closed, a quiet moan caught in her throat, body shivering.

He pulled the panties the rest of the way up, giving her ass a gentle, playful slap as the fabric snapped into place. Mom smiled—soft, warm, grateful, eyes sparkling.

She stepped forward and hugged him tightly—naked breasts pressing against his shirt one last time, arms wrapping around his neck.

“Thank you so much… I love you…” she whispered, voice full of genuine emotion, and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to his lips—slow, tender.

Then she turned, opened the gate quietly with trembling fingers, and slipped into the shadowed portico of our house.

Mom waved at the auto driver—small, shy smile, hand lingering in the air, moonlight catching the faint flush still on her cheeks.

The driver climbed back in, his mind whispered “Lucky bastard”. He started the auto, and gave a final wave and grin as he drove off into the night.

I moved behind her, arms wrapping around her waist—one hand sliding down to rest possessively on her ass over the thin panties, the other across her bare back. I lifted her slightly—her body light and warm against mine, a soft laugh muffled against my shoulder as her feet left the ground.

I carried her inside, her arms around my neck, and closed the door behind us with a quiet click.

–The End–