Part One
I have never thought that would happen to me. Though my mom is very sexy, but I have never fantasized of her until that crazy turning point happened in my life. My mom, Mona, has a full figured average body, not fat but voluptuous and curvy, a little bet tall with big breasts and soft round butt. At home she usually wears a t-shirt with no bra and jeans. She is a very strong person that we all don't dare to say no to her, even my father is submissive in front of her.
The crazy year happened when I was 22 years studying at the third year at the local university in our city. It was a mere chance, but has changed my life up to now.
Compared to our arab society here, we are a small family of five, mom, dad, my sister and little brother and me. My mom was 42 at that time, she was so white and everybody sees her takes her to be a Turkish. My dad was around his fifties. My sister 13 and my little brother 8 are both at school.
My mom was a strong person as she takes control of the whole house and give command to all the workers at our home. She always does what she wants and makes my father does what she wants too. At that time, I used to feel that I can never say no to her and all what I could do is to try to draw her affections begging her to let me go out or do something she doesn't like. So I kept most of the time at home with no real friends but at collage.
We are a wealthy family as my dad got a commercial center which is directed by around 20 foreign workers mostly from the far east. We don't see them but in the center and my dad never allowed any to come to our home. But on the other hand, at home, we got two Philippine maidens, a Syrian driver and an old Indian gardener and they all are considered part of the family.
We live in the outskirts of the city in a separate garden surrounded by a high wall. Our house is a three-story luxurious villa. The first floor is a wide living room, a kitchen, a guests room and two bedrooms for the maidens and the driver. The second floor is two bedrooms and a sitting hall and a sports hall. The third floor is a penthouse with two bedrooms and a terrace. I live alone in the penthouse.
Behind our home there is a garden about a soccer playground planted with all kinds of fruit and vegetables as the old Indian is very skilled in gardening. At the far side of the garden there stands a small compound of a sitting hall and the Indian's small house. The sitting hall is divided into two separate spaces one for men and the other for women, each furnished with an armchair set and a ground Arab sitting set. I barely see the Indian as he is always busy watering and taking care of the trees.
My dad used to travel a lot specially to china and Europe to import different kind of goods for our center, and we used to have a very quiet life away from everybody outside.
My mom used to go everyday morning at 7:20 with the driver to take the kids to school and comes back directly alone with the Syrian driver. I used to drive to the collage sometime between 7-10 am depending on the lectures schedule. I didn't notice anything unusual between my mom and the driver until one day I discovered that I was gullible and fooled all the time.
One day, late October, we had a free day at the collage. One day before, my best friend asked me my car for a couple of hours on that free day. I told him OK but he can take it only tomorrow morning as I can't move without it.
A few minutes after my mom left with the Syrian to take the kids to school, my friend called me at my cell and told my that he is waiting down by the gate coming to take the car. I woke up slowly and went down, opened the gate and gave him the keys, with the promise not to be late after 2 pm, and went back to my room. I sat by the window looking at the garden overviewing the fresh panorama of a sunny morning. I heard my mom's car coming in. After a while I heard her talking to the maiden, probably telling her what to do exactly or sending her to do some shopping. Then I heard her coming up to the penthouse and walking around but she didn't come into my room, probably she thought that I went to collage as she didn't see my car out in the garage. Then a heavy silence brooded, probably she was sitting at the terrace watching the garden. At that moment I saw the Syrian driver lingering toward the small house at the far end of the garden, he looked back and went on, I felt he got shy as he saw my mom looking at him from the terrace. He went on and got into the men's hall to have a rest before my mom bothers him to go shopping or elsewhere.
But then I heard my mom's steps walking over the terrace then down the stairs. I was still sitting by the window enjoying the fresh morning and looking at the beautiful garden. The old Indian gardener was busy digging probably removing some weeds. Then I saw my mom wearing a night gown and walking slowly toward the far end of the garden. "why she's wearing a night gown but not jeans and T-shirt as she used to when she goes to the garden" I thought to myself. She was walking slowly and playfully, her butt was waving as she lingered contently. I saw she was looking at the old Indian who didn't pay attention to nobody as usual. She went into the woman's hall, probably to rest alone there away from the maidens. But in a second she came out and looked around then swiftly entered the men's room where the driver was.
Oh my God! She's fucking with the Syrian, sure she does; they way she went there, the sleeping gown she's wearing, the way she got into the men's hall. Oh my God! My mom is a whore! What shall I do? Do I have to go and catch them? Oh! I was too coward to do so, especially in front of my mom. I looked at the old Indian, he was still busy of his, he didn't notice anything. Oh! What can I do??? It's my mom you fucken Syrian.
I kept walking back and forth inside my room, and every now and then looked toward them... Oh!! Whore, she's fucking the driver. Dirty slut, my mom is a dirty slut.