The boy, Raja though, loved and adored his mother. From a very young age he realized his mother was powerless. He was the one who would console her when she sat sobbing after being at the receiving end of one of Shankar's tirades and beatings. He would go hug her and say, "Amma, you and I should run away to some place, away from appa, away from this town. I will keep you safe, amma. No one will touch you or shout at you or hit you!" She would respond "Aiyoh, Raja! Where can we go? You are young. I am not that literate, who will give me work? Where will we go for money, for food, for a house? Raja, you study well. Get a degree. Be a doctor or engineer. Get away from this place, from your appa! Leave me to my fate!"
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Meena was afraid that Raja would take after his father, inherit his mean and violent nature. She did her best to protect him. But she needn't have worried. Raja grew into a well rounded, robust and healthy young man. When he graduated high school, he was a good head taller than his father and more muscular and fit, thanks to the hours he spent exercising in their backyard and in the school gym, eating healthy as his mother told and generally taking care of his body and mind.
Meena knew Raja was just a normal boy, doing the normal, healthy boyish things. She realized he was old enough to be interested in girls and women. When he accompanied her to the market, she was aware of his roving eyes, seeking out young girls and women and ogling at them, regardless of their age and size, no matter how much he tried to act innocent. She saw the way he eyed the ladies who came to visit her, his eyes covertly lingering over their bodies, their big breasts, exposed hips and back. She was his mother after all and knew all the tricks boys were into. While cleaning his room, she was able to discover his stash of pornographic magazine and video discs. It was heartening to see that her son was doing the normal boyish things, but the extremely graphic sexual pictures she saw shocked her.
Raja exercised in the backyard just outside Meena's kitchen regularly and religiously, every day without fail, rain or shine. Some days she found herself staring at her son from her window as he sweated profusely, working his body using weights and bars. She took in his well developed arms and chest. She saw his biceps bulging as he lifted weights and that his pecs and abs were well defined and taut, and surprisingly hairless, she noticed, as opposed to his father's hairy, bony chest and bulging tummy.
The last few times he had hugged her, trying to console her after her husband had one of his episodes, beating her up and as she sat on the floor sobbing, she was aware of how physically developed her son was. She could sense the muscles on his arms and chest. As he pressed her to him, she was acutely aware of the manly smell emanating from his body and his thighs hard against her own. She was a bit confused, of course, but she did not know what to make of it at that time. But later in the day, when she thought about it, she vaguely remembered that she had rearranged the pallu of her saree, sensing his eyes looking down her blouse, the tops of her free bra-less, unencumbered breasts visible clearly. Was it just her imagination or did she also sense his thickness pressing into her?
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Raja had decided that the town was not where he would live. Though he liked his neighborhood and friends and school, he wanted to get away desperately. Away from the influence of his father, find a nice job, find a suitable girl, get married and settle into a new life elsewhere, safe and sound. He longed for a time and place where his childhood would be just a distant memory. He just had to bide his time. And, of course, he would take his amma with him. That was a given.
How could someone be mean and cruel to his amma? She was so innocent and caring and loving. She made a beautiful home for all of them. But still his appa was abusive towards her. He did not hate his father, only hated his actions. Were they ever a loving couple? Of course, they had to be close at the beginning. How else could they have had two children? His thoughts sometimes wandered and he wondered if they still continued to have sex, but he quickly brushed these away.
Still, on many occasions he caught himself staring at his amma with such thoughts running through his mind. She was not sexy or voluptuous. She was pretty in a homely sort of way. He let his eyes take her in. Just as with any of the other women he noticed, her bra was visible through the flimsy material of her blouse, the cups of holding up her huge, globular breasts, her midsection exposed and a line of fat ran around where she tied her saree. Her thick, motherly thighs were outlined by the tightness of her saree. Her skin was always shiny and radiant, her face pleasant and smiling, hiding whatever sorrow she may have in life.
Once when he was cycling to the shopping center he saw two women quite a distance away chatting with some shopkeepers. His mind was blank as he approached them and he found himself passing assessment on the two. They were quite shapely. He could only see their saree covered behind and could sense the roundness and firmness of their asses. As he came closer, he took in their full figure, the roundness of their behinds, the firmness of their breasts and the sexy way they carried themselves. Only when he was almost upon them did he realize that one of the women was his own mother!! Fuck! He quickly braked, turned his bicycle around and rushed away.
He noticed the way the eyes of his father's colleagues roamed over his amma's body when they visited. Even his friends were not innocent. His friend Ramu's eyes always bulged when he tried to make seemingly innocent chit-chat with his mother. When he accompanied his amma to the market, the shopkeepers hung on to her every word and then watched and ogled her back and her swaying ass as she walked away from them, seemingly unaware of their lecherous eyes and intentions. If he had his way, he'd pluck all their eyes out and feed them to the vultures just for looking at his beloved amma.
But, what did men want in a woman, anyway? A warm receptive body, lips, tits, thighs, hands, cunt - that's all. Did he not look at women, any and all he encountered, and imagine fucking them, regardless of who they were, what they looked like and their age and size? Ramu's mother and sister, their math teacher Ms. Sneha, the vegetable vendor lady who came to their gate everyday, the women who came visiting his amma, the girls in school and the market - he had imagined bedding them, fucking them, seeing their hairy crotch covered by tight panties, having them suck his cock and cumming all over them. So what is to stop other people from imagining doing such things to his mother?
But then again, he could not help or prevent it. Men and boys are pigs, he thought to himself.
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It happened on a quiet Saturday afternoon during the break between his first and second semester of college.
His father was cleaning his motorcycle, and his mother was in her vegetable garden. Raja had to visit Ramu in the next street over and return some books. He announced, "I am going to Ramu's house..!" and prepared to leave. His father grunted something unintelligible and his mother, caring as usual, said, "Come back in time for tea, Raja!"
He responded, "Yes, amma, I will!"
He went out through the small gate in the backyard and had walked for about five minutes when he realized he also had to return a DVD to Ramu. Cursing under his breath for the wasted time, he hurried back. His father and mother were not to be seen. The motorcycle was still half clean with oil cans and rags lying around it. His mother's vegetable basket was lying half-empty. Seemed odd to Raja but he did not pay much heed to these. Surprisingly, the back door was unlocked and he pushed it open.
The house was quiet, and he was about to call out to his amma when he heard voices. They were coming from inside the house. And as he stepped in he realized the sounds were from his parents' bedroom.
"Fuck!" Raja said softly. "They are arguing and fighting again. Hell of a time for them to be doing this!" He walked rapidly in the direction of their bedroom, ready to intervene and stop any argument they were in, and to take his mother's side, protect her from appa no matter what was said and who was right.
But something made him stop short of opening the bedroom door and rushing in. The door was a single large door, but it was not completely closed. There was a gap of about six inches and it was open. But that was not all. The sounds coming were not of two people arguing. It was the rhythmic, soft 'thwak-thwak-thwak', and Raja instantly recognized the sounds of two bodies slamming into each other, accompanied by grunting male sounds, "argh-argh-argh" and the soft, complaining, moans of a woman - 'aiyo-aiyoh-aah-aah-aiyo" - and the creak of the bed and mattress, the clinking of bangles and anklets.
Raja stopped dead in his tracks. He went cold all over. He gulped and held his breath. His parents were having sex! They were fucking, on this quiet, warm Saturday afternoon!!
