When I was younger my mother used to change in front of me. This was obviously innocent. I was very close to her and often spent time in her room. She even used to ask me to unhook her bra sometimes when she couldn't reach behind her back. I did this until about I was ten. She never asked me to leave if she had to change, and I used to just go about my business as well, never feeling as if I had to leave or look away.
Then slowly my mother weaned me off this habit. And I didn't think too much of it. Heck, I didn't even find her attractive when I was a child. But as I started growing up, I started to recall some of those sessions in her bedroom. I remembered getting fascinated about her body - about how different it was from my own and how I wanted to examine it closely. I remembered sneaking peaks at her overgrown pubic hair sticking out from her vaginal area as I stared at her from the side. Now that I am starting to remember, she never really gave me a full frontal view. She was always turned either away from me or at an angle from me. I never really got to see her boobs that clearly either. I wasn't much interested in boobs then. I was just always amazed by the fact that she had hair around her crotch and she didn't have a penis sticking out of it like I did. I wondered what was hidden behind all that hair. This wasn't sexual, just childish curiosity.
My first summer returning from college, I found myself recalling more vividly the time with my mother in those intimate situations. My dad spent his days at work and my sister was taking summer classes at a local community college. So all day I had plenty of chances to get bored and muster up all kinds of thoughts to myself. I would watch my mother walk around tending to house chores and get flashbacks to the times I had seen her body and I wished I could get another peek at it.
My mom is in her mid-40s now. She has a nice petite body which is in surprisingly good shape given her age. Her B-cup tits are firm and still very noticeable. One thing worth knowing about my mother is that she is a happy-go-lucky kind of person. Mostly, she just goes about her business and pays little attention to her appearance.
She was especially affectionate to me that summer. Apparently she still thought I was 10 years old and couldn't handle being away on my own. She coddled me a lot, often volunteering to do my laundry and cook special dishes for me.
Like I mentioned above, my mom was carefree and outgoing. Though very traditional, she never wore a protective scarf around her neck like most Indian ladies do. Apparently, she also never really thought about the fact that her son was now a grown man.
As my mother walked around the house, her hourglass figure was enhanced by the tight long Indian top (kamiz) and lose Indian pajamas (shalwar) she used to wear. Since she never wore the neck scarf (dopatta) around the house, the shape of her boobs was very discernable. They just rose out of her chest and stared at me square in the eye. As I mentioned, it was summertime, so most of her kamiz-es (long Indian shirts) were of thin cotton material. This material hugged her skin and I could see every curve on her body.
Ogling at my mother made me feel embarrassed and dirty at times. I was still very close to her and looked up to her in many ways. She had raised me and my sister well.
But sometimes, I don't know why, I just wanted to be intimate with her again. I didn't necessarily want to have sex with her. I just wanted to be close to her. I don't know what it was. I guess I missed being a child. Maybe she was right. Maybe I wasn't yet mature enough to be on my own.
--
One Sunday afternoon, my sister and I were watching TV in the living room, when she stood up and headed to the bathroom. This bathroom was connected to the living room.
My sister didn't realize that my mom was in the shower. She just walked up to the bathroom door and opened it. The door flung open. I immediately froze sitting there with my mouth open staring at what was happening. I guess my mom had forgotten to lock the door.
A second later, my sister and I were staring at my mom -- dripping but naked. Between the two seconds that my sister immediately turned around and closed the door, I got a good look at my mom's body. She had soap on her face and her eyes were closed. I caught a nice glimpse of her plump boobs and tightly-wound body. Her lovely curves made a nice shape. I saw her cross her thighs as she yelled at my sister to close the door, which she did immediately.
My sister was now half laughing and half apologizing profusely.
My mom simply said "It's ok, I am sorry I forgot to lock the door."
My sister, who is younger than me, kept laughing. But I was turned on.
--
A few days later I happened to come home from hanging out early. As I walked in and settled down in the living room, another weird thing happened.
I saw my mother completely naked as she was coming out of the same bathroom. She was kind of hunched over as if she was carrying something heavy, but soon enough she spotted me. She gasped and ran back inside the bathroom.
"I am so sorry I didn't know you were home so early!" She called out as she ran inside the bathroom.
"It's ok." I replied. "What were you doing? Are you ok?"
"Yes. I just got done taking a shower, and I realized I forgot to bring my clothes with me, so I was going to quickly get them."
"Oh okay," I said, still a bit shocked at what had happened. I couldn't think straight. My eyes had gone straight to her hairy crotch and that patch of pubic hair was dancing around my eyes.
"Well... don't just stand there. Can you please get them for me?" She requested.
"OK. Which ones?" I asked, breaking out of my trance, trying to shake the image of her naked body.
"They are on my bed." She told me.
"Ok."
I went and got her long Indian top and lose bottoms from the bed.
"Here you go." I knocked on the bathroom door.
"Thanks," She said as she opened a little crevice, extended her arm and got the clothes from me.
"Okay," I said as I walked away.
I was horny as hell now. I think I might have seen the line of her pussy amidst the tuft of pubic hair which she had growing in her crotch. "Why doesn't she shave?" I thought to myself. I was asking myself this, and many other questions. They were silly questions really. Like I wondered how her crotch smelled. I fantasized about licking it one day. I also fantasized about biting her nipples. I was getting turned on by my own mother. I felt dirty. But I couldn't help it.
"God" I said to myself, frustrated. "Why does this keep happening?"
This was two days in a row that I had seen her buck naked. I was 19 for crying out loud. What was I supposed to do?
I went inside my room and masturbated.
--
As I mentioned, this was summer. My friends and I had planned a road trip up to Toronto one weekend. I had been gone for 3 days. Throughout this time, I had to regularly check in with my mom -- being as obsessed as she was with her kids, she got worried easily.
When I returned, her joy was a thing to be seen. As soon as I opened the front door and walked in to the house, she came running out of her bedroom.
She caught me in the foyer. Gasping with joy, she engulfed me in a tight embrace.
"Mom!" I said, laughing.
"Oh I am so glad you are here." She said and squeezed me tight.
She wasn't wearing the dopatta (Indian scarf) to cover her chest. Her B sized tits raised from her chest like little hills. She was wearing a padded bra. I felt her lobes of love get buried inside my chest as she squeezed me. I was taller than her. Her arms were wrapped around my chest.
I hugged her back and pressed my chest into hers.
This was a first.
In the past, she had always squeezed me like this and I had never bothered to even move. Those had been mother-son type of hugs. I had never squeezed her back! Maybe when I was 5 but never since adulthood.
"I missed you too," I said affectionately.
"Awww my son," she said giddily as she looked into my eyes, still hugging me tight.
She hadn't noticed that I was feeling her tits press against my chest.
At least 30 seconds had passed by since initial contact. With her boobs burying into my chest, and the sweet smell of her freshly washed hair reaching my nose, I was beginning to get turned on. When I grabbed her back, my hands had landed at her bra buckle. This was a man's embrace to a woman he was attracted to. And sure enough, the physical consequences of my thoughts had now started to make their inevitable appearance.
My cock had slowly moved and in the span of the last 10 seconds, was now erect enough for her to notice. My dick was at her upper crotch level. As it got harder, it rose up and pressed against her upper pussy area.
She immediately realized it was my cock pressing against her crotch as instantaneously as a gazelle senses out an approaching predator.
With a reflex-like jerk action, she pulled her hips back. At first she had a look of disbelief. I wondered how long it would take for her to realize that her son was after all a man. As she let go, she gave me another maternal-type hug -- potentially trying to salvage any affection left over from our initial contact, trying to forget about the last 10 sexual seconds. This time, she loosely hugged me, visibly pulling her crotch back and just rubbing her arm across my back. Then she stepped back, pulled my head towards her and kissed my forehead.
"Let me get you some food," saying this, she smiled affectionately and went to the kitchen.
--
I think my mother was understandably shocked after feeling my hard-on press up against her pussy. She hadn't hugged me in 3 days. Other than this though, her behavior towards me was normally affectionate. Maybe she was trying to cope with the fact that her little boy was all grown up now -- that he had sexual feelings too -- that he was an adult just like her.
--
My habit of sleeping in was in its full bloom. Nothing better than staying up all night and then waking up late during summer vacations.
Saturday morning, I decided to sleep in again. I heard my mom calling my name. She had entered my room and was telling me it was 1 o'clock in the afternoon and I should get up.
As I opened my eyes, I saw her standing at the door, waiting for me to get up. God knows what the heck I was dreaming about, but I had a full and raging hard on. And to make things worse, I found myself waking up laying flat on my back. The result?
My cock was making a big tent in my pajamas and the tent was right there, wide open for her to look at.
Almost gasping immediately I turned to one side and asked her to leave.
"I have been trying to wake you up for the past 5 minutes standing here, but I don't know what you are dreaming of; you don't even hear me." She laughed.
"What?" I asked, embarrassed as hell.
