ColetteJulie, my inspirational voluntary editor must be wondering what happened to me and the rest of the story. Well, after a forced sabbatical, I am back in my country and hopefully will complete posting the rest of the story before the end of this year.
Readers! You have been wonderful! Million Thanks to one and all of you.
All the characters in the story are above 18 years.
For those who haven't read Part.01 & Part.02
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Residents of Olur, a remote village in southern India fondly worship Angannan, a rural deity. The descendants of Angannan reside in the same village and their house is called 'The Big House'.
Annam, a widow is living with her son Balu. Her step-daughter Pushpa is married to Sundar, a Doctor and the couple are settled in the city.
Balu, 18 years and horny manages to seduce his own mother before the annual festival. Annam decides to find a bride for Balu after coming to know that he had spied on his own step-sister while having sex with her husband. Annam realizes that she needs to engage her son sexually to prevent him from trying any adventures with his step sister. She seduces him again.
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Pt. 03
Sitting on the specially erected dais with Pushpa, Sundar was watching the crowd that was thronging the festival. He presumed that scores of people from surrounding villages might have walked at least a couple of miles to reach the Angannan shrine. Although Sundar felt a tinge of pride that his wife hails from a revered family, he wasn't thoroughly impressed the way in which the festival was conducted. There were a few rituals which Sundar perceived as primitive, especially young girls getting engaged to men much older, sometimes old enough to be their fathers. Coming from urban background, Sundar always believed that girls should have the right to choose their companions rather than mutely succumbing to their parent's compulsions.
"Look at that girl," Sundar whispered to Pushpa. "She seems to have wept all day. Look how bloated her face looks."
Pushpa quickly located the girl in the crowd and recognized her.
"She is Rani," Pushpa sighed. "Poor girl, she can only cry."
"Why should she?" Sundar snarled. "If she is not ready nobody should force her."
"We can't stop," Pushpa sighed. "If the engagement gets stalled, she will never get a groom again."
Sundar was speechless for a moment. 'This is ridiculous,' he fumed. The more he looked at Rani, the more agitated he became. As he helplessly looked up at the sky, his eyes suddenly widened seeing dark clouds gathering far away.
"God is great," Sundar sounded excited. "It is going to rain. The festival is going to stop."
Pushpa froze after she looked up and watched the dark clouds in the distance. Several emotions began running through her mind as she kept looking at the clouds coming slowly but surely over the village.
Rains are always welcome for the peasants but surely not during the festival. The sacred flame lit up at the beginning of the festival should keep burning till the conclusion of the festival and if not, the villagers believed it to be a bad omen. Within minutes, a chill descended on the villagers as they watched the clouds menacingly speeding towards their village.
"Oh God!" Pushpa exclaimed. "Mom had so many things planned for this festival. I wonder what might be going through her mind at the moment!"
Pushpa was right. Several hundred yards away from the festival venue, the big house was already engulfed in darkness because of the impending rains. Annam, had rushed towards the window, looked up and had seen her worst fears coming true. She felt like swooning after she inhaled the scent of the soil which looked like a chilling prelude to some nightmare.
As the eldest woman of the big house, she had several things to worry about. What if it rains very heavily, so much so that the festival never gets started? What would happen to those poor peasants whose rituals might never get completed this year? What about those young girls who are supposed to get engaged this year?
Annam, like every other person in the village, was worried. But, there was one individual who felt elated at the prospect of the festival getting cancelled. That was Balu, Annam's son.
The horny young man slowly walked behind his mother, placed his hands on her hips, pressed his body against her and kissed on her naked right shoulder.
"Mom, don't worry," Balu screamed. "We can have fun for another year."
Annam turned around and stared at her son with profound disgust. Balu was smiling shamelessly while his eyes were pinned on her body, glowing with ruthless lust.
"You are disgusting," Annam snarled. "Many villagers might be crying at the moment. Their dreams are going to fall apart. Does that make you happy?"
"I am just practical," Balu retorted. "I didn't bring the rains. Perhaps, your God is not very keen to see the festival this year. Let us enjoy this boon."
Annam couldn't even reply, leave alone refuse, as her horny son took her in a tight embrace. His erection probed between Annam's thighs, pushing through her tightly wound saree. His hands groped her ass cheeks, pulling her body press closer letting her huge breasts mashing on his broad chest.
Annam quickly realized something unusual about her son's arousal. Apparently he was more horny after seeing his own sister having sex with her husband. Perhaps, he had the vision of his naked sister even while attempting to hit on his mother.
Balu never seemed concerned about Annam's feelings. He pressed his lips on hers and sucked into his mouth. Annam could feel the lustful heat on her son's body as she squirmed and struggled to free herself from his brutal hug. Balu's tongue kept swirling around inside her mouth while his hands held her ass cheeks in a tight leash. His erection was menacingly growing bigger and longer, rubbing over her mound through the thick fabric. Eventually, when Balu pulled away after a prolonged kiss, Annam began gasping for breath.
"Stop it at once," Annam pleaded. "Pushpa and her husband may return anytime soon."