Friday, January 28, 2011

Pussy worship with mother - part 6

She then got up and left the room. I heard her make her way to the bathroom, close the door and lock it behind her.

I sat there, mesmerised by what had just happened. I picked up the bowl of coconut milk and gulped it down expecting it to taste of her essence. All I could taste was coconut milk.

Blessed coconut milk.

I expected the rest of the day to be a repeat of the previous week with minimal conversation and interaction between me and mother. She had rushed away quickly after the yoni puja ritual so I presumed that she was maybe embarrassed about it.

I'd seen her at her most vulnerable and as beautiful a sight as it was to see her panting and gasping in sexual delirium, it was also a very personal and private act and one that a son doesn't usually get to experience with his mother. It's certainly not one that mother ever thought she'd undertake with me and her discomfort at the situation had been plane to see.

What had happened had happened. As with all things of this crazy nature, I couldn't see how things could go back to they were before. I can't un-see what I had seen and I can't undo what I had done. I had masturbated my mother. She'd been pleasured by her son. That truth would no doubt resonate with us for the next few days at least.

Things were slightly different; however, as I didn't receive the same cold shoulder treatment as I had before. Instead mother was actually quite amiable. Not quite chatty but definitely a bit more conversational. To be honest, I wasn't really capable of that much conversation myself. My mind was only thinking about one thing.

All I could think about was the yoni puja ritual and if we were to talk about anything, that should be it. However, that appeared to be the only topic she would not raise. Instead there were short banal exchanges about which one of my shirts needing washing, what groceries I'd need to buy from the bazaar, whether I was going to finally fix the satellite tv connection, etc.

The day passed quickly with mother following her usual routines of housework and meal preparation. We even sat together to watch some tv in the evening, as strange as it sounds. It's as if this morning hadn't happened and in a weird way I even began questioning in my mind whether it had or not.

I guessed that she found it easier to accept the ritual mentally if it meant it didn't change anything in her day to day life. As if it was something aside and apart from her normal duties and function.

That night I jacked off like never before. It was the 5th time that day I'd masturbated in fact. All I could do was imagine once again the sights and smells of my mother's beautiful juicy pussy. The way it quivered and pulsated as I'd pumped my fingers into her. The way she'd thrust her cunt up to meet my digital assault and the sudden gush of ejaculate that sprayed out as she climaxed. It had been a mind blowing experience and I fell asleep that night wondering whether it was the first of many yoni puja sessions or whether this would be the end of it.

I was woken the next morning by a soft knocking on my bedroom door.

"Betah, have you woken yet. It is already 8 o'clock."

I jumped up and out of bed as I realised I was going to be late for work. I picked up my mobile phone from the dresser to find that I hadn't remembered to set my morning alarm the previous night.

I quickly rushed to get cleaned up and get dressed for work. Mother called to me from the kitchen asking what I wanted for breakfast but I really didn't have the time to eat. Like all mothers she complained sweetly about how important breakfast was and for a moment I was sad to break her heart by not staying to eat. Unfortunately, the call-centre industry can be quite ruthless and any tardiness was an easy excuse to get rid of people. Not that excuses are all that necessary in a country with no employee rights.

I didn't get much time at work to think of anything other than getting those calls in. Call after call after call, each time listening to people explain how they weren't interested in getting a free mobile phone. I had the usual mix of attitudes from our foreign customers -- racist abuse was just part of the job for us. At first I had been quite upset by it but now it didn't bother me. I'd learned that a person abusing me on the phone was just extending my opportunity to sell to them. The only useless calls for me were the ones that ended quickly, didn't get picked up, or were handed to someone who clearly couldn't make a decision to buy, like a child. Anyone else, anyone who was able to give a name and address was fine by me -- it was a potential sale.

You'll be surprised to know that I hadn't even thought of my mother again the whole day till I was almost home that evening. As I approached our apartment, those images filled my mind again and I cursed myself for getting aroused right as I was about to enter the front door. I shifted uncomfortably to hide my erection as I came in and was glad to find my mother didn't happen to be passing at that point. I have no idea how I'd managed to conceal a raging hard-on from her for so long!

"Ma? Kahaan ho? Where are you? Koi khana milega kya? Will I get any food?" I was absolutely famished, having not had breakfast and also working through lunch to make up for my lateness that morning.

"Aarahan houn, betah. I'm coming." Mother emerged from the prayer room wearing one of her plain cotton sarees. "Kahatha na meiney? Dekhliya keysa lagta hai agar subha khana nehi khaya? See what happens when you don't have breakfast?"

She shook her head as she passed me, smiling in mock frustration at my poor eating habits. It was hard not love this woman's delightful mannerisms, even as my damn cock twitched right at that moment.

"Mein abhi khana banaata houn, I'll make something to eat." She called form the kitchen. "Baad mein..."

She paused for a few seconds making me wonder what was up.

"Khaney ki baad...yoni ki puja karogey?" She added innocently as if she was asking me something as innocuous as setting the table or tidying my room.

"Kya? What?" I asked, poking my head into the kitchen to check I'd heard her correctly.

My presence startled her as she looked over her shoulder at me, her face was suddenly blushing and she seemed a little nervous and unsure of herself. It was cute seeing her in discomfort. I felt a bit of a thrill watching her feel so uneasy as our mother-son relationship was momentarily turned on its head and she was seeking direction from me. She looked away in shyness and continued in an almost squeaking tone. "Yoni ka puja karma hein. Guru sahib ne kahan... We need to perform the yoni puja ritual. The Guru said that...."

She trailed off her sentence, her voice having become an inaudible squeak.

She nervously adjusted her pallu, then her hair, then her pallu again, clearly uncomfortable and embarrassed to have to ask me such a thing. She turned as if to busy herself with some pots and pans though not actually seeming to achieve anything in particular, no doubt waiting to see what I would say.

I didn't respond for the moment, choosing instead to let her feel uneasy for a bit. I had to admit I felt a bit of giddy thrill from the thought of this life long figure of maternal authority turn into this trembling little girl so easily.

"Abhi karloun? We can do the ritual now." I said, eventually giving her an answer. She turned around to find my eyes fixed on hers and she blushed even further, her face turning a delightful pink. She shied her face away again feeling self conscious.

"Lekhin thumne khana nehi khaya. But you havn't eaten yet." Her voice was unsteady and barely a whisper.

"Khana baad mein deydo. Aagey yoni ka puja karloun hum. I can eat later, Lets perform puja first." I said, plainly, enjoying the control she seemed to have inadvertently handed to me. I was the one telling her that we should perform the yoni puja ritual now and not the other way round. It was weird, last night I'd worried about ever getting the chance to doing it again and here was me telling my mother we're going to be doing it now. Strange how things turn out.

"Shayed, Yoni ka ashirvaad na payi tho lakta hay us Callcentre ko bachney ka aadat nehin hey, ma. How else will I survive the bloody call centre without any yoni blessings?" I added, smiling while trying to ease the tension a little. Slipping in a little cheeky joke was a bit risky. Mother still saw the yoni puja ritual as very much a religious act so joking about it had a good chance of offending her -- and ending any potential chance of a repeat of yesterday probably.

Mother chuckled nervously at first, and as her body seemed to relax, she joined me for a little playful giggle. I jokingly pinched her nose and went to poke her a few times, playfully pretending to tickle her as we had done many times in the past. We laughed together for a bit, both of us coming to ease and enjoying the mutual release of tension.

"Bus, bus betah." She pleaded as her cute girlish laughed slowed and ended in a wide smile across her warm and beautiful face. She told me to go and put my prayer clothes on with an intoxicating hint of excitement and adoration in her eyes.

No comments:

Post a Comment