Literotic asexstories – Mamma’s Cute Little Son Pt. 01 by Chootkaanashaa,Chootkaanashaa All the characters in this story are above the age of eighteen and figments of author’s imagination. Peace. Slow burn.
The monsoon.
After the brutal summer of 2024 made way for the monsoon, Komal heaved a sigh of relief. Finally the skies had opened up and it was pouring down as heavily as it could to quench the thirst of the parched earth. God was indeed kind enough. The sweet music of raindrops striking against her bedroom windows. It always brought alive the old memories.
Komal – a patient coordinator at coastal city’s world famous Get Well Soon Hospital – looked up at her late husband Vikram’s framed photograph and smiled a naughty smile. The garland hanging around the photo frame. Vikram’s radiant smile. His wide eyes shining brightly. They inspired Komal and kept her going.
Vikram was a young pilot who died of a malignant brain tumour at 26 two decades ago. Barely eleven months after their marriage.
When the tragedy befell, Komal — a young widow of twenty two – was seven months pregnant. Devastated as she was, she wanted to end her life following her husband’s untimely demise.
However, she pulled herself together and made a firm decision to start her life all over again following the birth of a baby boy whom she named Rocky.
Soon after giving birth to Rocky, Komal packed her belongings in bags and overnight relocated to a nondescript coastal city in the southern part of India with her toddler in tow. Far from the maddening crowd where nobody knew them.
They were away from the prying eyes of their pesky relatives eager to make matches for the young widow Komal who was yet to come to terms with the cards that her life had dealt her unexpectedly.
She put up a brave face, looked at her life with renewed vigour and determination and made a fresh beginning as a patient coordinator at this famous hospital that provided her with a two-bedroom-one-kitchen accommodation in the Nurses’ Quarters adjoining the hospital.
Years rolled by.
Komal was now a 42-year-old widow in a great shape. She sacrificed her youth for her only son Rocky — a precious gift from her husband with whom she had been in love ever since.
Had she wanted, she could have found herself a suitable man and married him. After all, she was young. She was beautiful. She was talented. She was educated. She was intelligent. But she chose to fight it out and raise her son on her own.
What a courageous woman Komal was!
Rocky grew up to be the star opening batsman of his college cricket team called Royal Eleven. He was a handsome young boy. At 20, he had the world at his feet.
He knew what his single mom had sacrificed for him. He worshipped her. He always ensured to keep her not only in good humour but also took care of her and obeyed her instructions to the dot.
Rocky loved to play cricket. He was the captain of his college cricket team. He was on the verge of getting selected for his state’s cricket team. One day he dreamt of representing his country on the cricket field.
Needless to say that Komal was proud of her son who loved her with all his heart and soul.
**
Komal was aware that her son was now a grown up boy. He was a famous cricketer to boot. Girls were impressed. They wanted to befriend him.
Rocky could talk to any girl he wanted with effortless ease. Komal had seen her son’s confidence and polite manners with women around him. She was glad that her son respected women and left a lasting impression on them.
However, she was always curious to find out whether Rocky had a girlfriend. Was he still a virgin? Komal had never discussed sex with Rocky. She wanted him to take an initiative and ask her questions related to sex. She was aware that these days young children learnt about sex online. She trusted Rocky and took great care to not intrude upon his privacy.
They both lived under the same roof but had separate bedrooms. The house in the Nurses’ Quarter had only one attached bathroom.
The mother-son duo led disciplined lives. Rocky knew his working mother’s shift timings. And, he followed an unwritten rule of the household. His mother was the breadwinner of the family. She deserved to get ready first in the morning. After Komal was ready and left home for work, it was Rocky’s turn to get ready and leave for college.
Komal had trained Rocky from a young age to do all the household chores. Rocky was an expert at doing the dishes and cleaning the house.
After Komal purchased a washing machine, she taught Rocky to put all the dirty clothes into the washing machine along with washing powder and turn it on without altering the pre-programmed settings. After the washing machine had completed its task, it was Rocky’s responsibility to take out the clothes and spread them across the clothesline.
Rocky – being an obedient son that he was – loved to do these tasks. He was ever ready to please his doting mother. Every time Komal smiled at Rocky with pride, he felt as though he had hit a bouncer off a fast bowler for a six with loud cheers emanating from the stands.
**
Secret Diary
There was a secret safe tucked away inside Rocky’s room. Komal alone had the key to that safe in which she preserved all the important documents.
Owing to persistent back pain, Komal was on leave today. She wanted to check a bank certificate pertaining to the date of maturity of the fixed deposit kept inside the safe in Rocky’s name.
He was away in college on a typical rainy morning that this coastal city was famous for. The city would assume a hue of green every time it rained.
In the upmarket neighbourhood, people loved to watch the heavenly downpour from the safety of the balconies of their posh flats with hot coffee mugs in hands.
Komal let herself in to Rocky’s room and was pleasantly surprised at a well made bed with everything neatly arranged. Rocky was a careful son who never gave his mother an opportunity to complain as far as tidiness in his room was concerned.
Komal gingerly sat on his son’s bed and opened that secret safe. She rummaged through the documents and made a mental note of the date of maturity mentioned on the FD certificate from the bank. Satisfied, she locked up the safe and pushed it back into the wall when her eyes caught a red diary tucked underneath Rocky’s pillow.
The curiosity got better of Komal and soon she found herself turning the pages of her son’s secret diary written in a lucid prose.
The handwriting was crisp and perfectly legible. She knew that her son was famous for stroke making on the cricket field. But she had never realised that his writing strokes were as beautiful as his prowess with the cricket bat.
**
I have been struggling with my conscience a lot of late. A turmoil within. A look of calm and serenity outside. What an actor I must be! It is an Oscar worthy performance.
Why is it happening? At first, I denied. I refused to acknowledge. No, it cannot be so. It feels so utterly wrong. That too at so many levels.
Then it was Shreya who hit the nail on the head. I know you are wondering who is Shreya.
Well, let me introduce Shreya.
She is my junior in the college. She is from Assam. She is a drop dead gorgeous babe. Lovely legs. Shapely thighs. Round buttocks. Flat tummy. And, big bosoms. Too big for someone who just turned nineteen. Her eyes. Her innocent smile. No wonder she has stolen my heart.
She is in our coastal city for her Bachelor of Business Management Course. She is in the second year. I am in the third year. We met at a New Year Party to usher in 2024 and hit it off instantly.
To be honest, I had seen her before many times in the stands amongst cricket crazy spectators. But I spoke to her for the first time at the party.
You know what. Shreya is a big cricket fan. She follows the game with unmatched passion. Every time my team plays, she is there in the stands cheering for us.
We have recently started seeing each other after staying in touch for over five months. Yes, it was she who asked me out. I merely went with the flow. And, as they say, “The rest is history”.
We decided to meet at Diesel Café for dinner on a rain soaked Saturday evening. I told my mom that I was hanging out with my cricket team for a strategy meet and would be back home after dinner.
Shreya turned up wearing a cream chiffon gown. Her radiant smile. Her sparkling eyes. Her hairstyle. Her style of talking and laughing. Oh my God! They distinctively reminded me of someone whom I have known since my childhood.
I was dumbfounded. She was the first girl with whom I had agreed to go out on a date. And, a part of me knew why I had agreed.
As if on a cue, she asked, “Why are you looking so lost? Am I reminding you of your ex?”
The music. The dimly lit restaurant. The hubbub. The clanking of cutlery. The bow-tied waiters. The order trays laden with delicious food items. It was as though the time had come to a standstill. Was I dreaming?
“I do not have an ex, darling. You are my first girlfriend.”
“Smart pick up line. But I am not impressed. Better luck next time, you opening batsman.”
I made no reply. I quietly continued to eat fried rice and veg curry. She kept smiling at me while shovelling French Fries into her sexy mouth.
**
Komal wiped beads of sweat across her forehead with the hem of her dress. She knew that her son was a bright student who scored straight A’s in every exam. But little did she know that he kept a secret diary and wrote such beautiful prose.
The last entry in the diary was made barely twelve hours ago. Before going to bed, her son wrote down everything in a page turner of a diary. She pursed her lips and fought with her conscience. A voice inside her head whispered, “Komal, this is wrong. Stop it.”
Ignoring the voice, she turned the page and a postcard slipped down. It landed facedown into her lap. Komal picked it up and turned it around slowly with her heart beating against her ribcage. The moment she saw the face on the postcard, the lightning accompanied by thunder struck.
Komal’s blood froze in her veins. The face staring back at her from the postcard was eerily similar to her face from two decades ago when she was in her early twenties.
What a gorgeous beauty queen!
She placed the postcard back between the pages of her son’s diary and began to read on.
**
It was a downward spiral from then on. I was in a free fall. I remember dropping Shreya to her room on my bike following dinner. She invited me to her room for a cup of warm coffee. Her roommate was in Mumbai to be with her elder brother who was flying out to the USA for an onsite project.
I vividly remember following her up the flight of narrow staircase to reach her bachelor’s pad on the second floor. My eyes were glued to her backside trying to make out the outline of her panties underneath the sexy looking cream chiffon gown.
My heart was in my mouth. Was “A Cup of Warm Coffee” a euphemism for wild sex on her queen size bed? Was she dropping subtle hints? Was I on the verge of losing my virginity to this damsel from Assam who was seducing me with her chiffon gown with plunging neckline showing off a generous amount of cleavage?
I soon found myself seated on her bed. She asked me to have a drink of water from the plastic bottle lying on a teapot next to her bed that was squeaky clean. If the truth be told, I was disappointed at not seeing her bed strewn with bras and panties and night gown and pyjamas with funny one liners scribbled across the bottoms.
Shreya loved neatness. She disappeared into the kitchen as I sat there waiting anxiously. It was raining heavily outside. The clock was ticking. My mom was alone back home. As if on a cue, my phone rang.
Hearing the sound of a ringing phone, Shreya emerged from the kitchen. My mouth fell wide open. She had changed into shorts and t-shirts.
The way her big breasts were jiggling underneath the white t-shirt, it was apparent that she had no bra on. I could feel some movement between my legs.
It was my manhood saluting those two free birds hidden underneath a t-shirt that looked like an unnecessary formality with the rain soaked atmosphere surcharged with romantic air inside the four walls of this well maintained room of two young college girls.
“Who is calling you? Is it your mom?” She asked, setting the tray with two coffee mugs on a teapot. My heart nearly stopped beating when her breasts tried to jump out of her t-shirt that had begun to irritate me for obvious reasons.
I nodded realising that I had forgotten to answer the call at seeing Shreya in such a provocative costume. I looked at the smartphone screen. There was a missed call from my mom. I speed-dialled her number and mumbled an apology for being so late and promised to reach home in half an hour.
Shreya looked at me with growing interest. After I ended the call, she smiled at me. I picked up the coffee mug with trembling hands as I heard her whisper, “Mamma’s cute little son, huh?”
I pretended not to have heard anything.
“Is it good?” She asked, sitting next to me with our legs touching.
“Yes. It is excellent. Sorry for all the trouble.”
“No worries. Show me your mother’s picture.”
I was surprised. I opened the photo album on my smartphone and showed her all the pictures of my beautiful mom. She squinted her eyes and took a long look at all the pictures.
“Makes perfect sense.” Finally she said, returning my smartphone.
“What are you talking about? What makes sense?”
“Rocky, don’t mind me saying this. I believe you now. I am your first girlfriend. You have never been with any girl before despite being a popular cricketer.”
“Oh. Thanks for believing me. Have your coffee as well. It will get cold.”
She began to sip her coffee. There was silence for a few moments as we continued to sip coffee.
“Don’t you want to know why I suddenly changed my mind and decided to believe you?” She asked.
“You realised that I am a thorough gentleman. Seeing you like this, I am still able to behave myself. Instead of trying to pull you closer to me, I am sitting next to you on your bed and sipping coffee that is really good.”
“I wish it were true.”
“Oh. Come on. I mean it.”
“Stop lying to yourself, Rocky.”
“I am not lying.”
“Why are you talking to me? Why did you agree to go out on a date with me? I know the answers.”
“Tell me why.”
“Rocky, the heart of the matter is you are in love with your mother. I look like her. You see your beautiful mother in me. This is precisely why you are here with me.”
“What are you saying? Are you out of your mind? How do you know all this?”
“I know. You are a good boy. Yes, you really are a thorough gentleman. Your mother has taught you all the good manners. Before we proceed any further, I want you to sort out your feelings. Ask yourself, “Why do I feel that I love Shreya?”
“Then?”
“Do not be in a hurry. Take your time. Let the answer manifest itself. While you are at it, think about your feelings towards your mother as well. Maybe next week or the week after you will be in a position to tell me why you feel that you are in love with me. Until then, good bye, Rocky. Thanks for this lovely evening. Let us call it a night.”
**
Komal’s heartbeats gathered pace. A part of her was jealous. At the same time, she heaved a sigh of relief. She was glad to know that her son was a perfectly normal boy with raging hormones. That he was interested in girls. That when he saw beautiful girls, his manhood inside his trousers tried to rebel. This was all sweet music to the ears of a young growing up son’s single mother.
But something troubled her. Something felt eerily odd. Something felt out of place. Could a girl as young as nineteen be so intelligent and mature? How could she glean that her son was interested in her since she resembled his pretty mother?
Didn’t all the sons out there find their mothers the most beautiful women on earth? Her son was perfectly normal. He was not the odd one out there. That was what she liked to believe.
And moreover, Komal felt immense pride for Rocky who showed remarkable grace and restraint despite hormones running helter-skelter at seeing Shreya in a semi naked state inside her room with not a single soul around except these two. Anything could have happened over a mug of warm coffee.
She smiled and decided to read on. She knew that there was more to come. That God had presented her with a golden opportunity to have a sneak peek inside her son’s mind.
**
With this rare opportunity to lose my virginity shot to hell, I returned home. I was disappointed to say the least. Shreya had overplayed her hand. She had stirred a hornet’s nest. She had opened a Pandora’s box. Was I sexually attracted to my mom whom I worshipped?
Soon the answer would manifest.
As soon as I reached home, I heard a soft knock at my door. It was thirty past eleven P.M. and I did not expect my mom to be awake. Was everything alright?
“Yes, Maa. Come on in.”
My mom pushed open the door and stepped in. It was the first time after that disturbing conversation with Shreya I was seeing my mom. She was wearing a loose fitting yellow Anaarkali frock and equally loose fitting black palazzo pants. I could tell from her expression that something was amiss.
“What happened, Maa? Are you doing fine? Did you have dinner? I was away with the boys. The new season is coming up. I was giving them a pep up talk. You know.”
“I know that you are working hard to make it big as a cricketer. I am proud of you, my son.”
“Thanks.”
“Well, I have this niggling back pain since this afternoon. You know I hate pain killers. I have this ointment to get rid of acute pain. Can you give me a back rub with it? It will ease the pain and I will fall asleep. I am fully exhausted. I am thinking of taking a leave tomorrow.”
“Sure, Maa. I will do as you say. And, please take rest. You deserve good rest.”
My heart was in my mouth. Turning her back, my mom asked me to follow her into her bedroom. The idea of a back rub sounded like a pure conspiracy.
Were Shreya and my mom a team? Was it some kind of a trap for my baptism by fire? My penis was sporting a semi erection underneath my shorts. I decided to pull a long t-shirt over my shorts before entering my mom’s bedroom.
What was about to happen? My mom’s bedroom was dimly lit. I found the door open. I gingerly stepped in. She was lying on her stomach on her bed with her eyes closed.
“Maa?”
“Yes. I am awake. Here is it is.” She said, handing over the ointment.
“Maa, where is it paining?”
It was a loaded question. What was I up to? What did my naughty mind expect? Shreya had left me high and dry after what looked like a promising evening. My penis was in a mood to revolt.
I waited for my mom’s answer with a pounding heart. A part of me was expecting her to seductively lift her frock and show me with her finger where it was paining.
Instead she said, “You start rubbing my back with that ointment. I will tell you where exactly it is paining. The pain points should get a little harder rub.”
I was confused. Did she want me to lift her frock? Did she want me to pour ointment all over her back and start rubbing?
“What is taking you so long?”
“Should I lift your frock?”
“Of course yes. How can you give me a back rub through clothes? Sit down. Be comfortable.”
I sat down and lifted her frock slowly as if I were unveiling a precious trophy. The aromatic scent of legendary Ponds Talcum Powder began to waft through my nostrils as I uncovered my mom’s troubled back. She had apparently dabbed her armpits with a generous helping of Ponds before inviting me in.
Was she wearing panties? Did she go to bed with bra panties on? I knew all her bras and panties. She had an excellent taste when it came to picking up her lingerie.
I lifted her frock all the way to her bra and placed it carefully over her bra hooks. She was wearing a bra. This meant she was wearing panties as well. My manhood was straining to break free from the shorts.
I knew that I must make this back rub last as long as possible. To tell the truth, I wouldn’t mind turning this back rub into an all night affair if it gave my mom relief from pain. After all, I am my mamma’s cute son.
The dimly lit room. A generous helping of ointment all over the aching back of my mom. Her closed eyes. Her puffy lips on which a smile played.
I placed the palms of my hands on her back and waited for her reaction. Maybe she was in a sleepy state of mind. She gave no indications whatsoever. The ball was in my court. My mom had told me the problem. Now she looked up to me for the solution.
She would not mind me trying anything. She was in excruciating pain. She wanted instant relief. My heart went out to my mom and I began to rub her back with both my palms.
I was gentle. Her soft skin. Her delicate back. The close proximity with her larger than life buttocks. Her shapely thighs. Her milky white calves. It was a dream come true moment for me.
I had never seen her wide buttocks from this close a distance. She was wearing panties. I was able to make out their outlines. I kept rubbing a portion of her bare back between her bra and the waistband of her palazzo pants.
After what seemed like ten minutes, she broke her silence. She said with her eyes closed, “Rocky, this rub is giving me relief. Can you please go a little down? My lower back can do with this type of rub. Please do not apply pressure. Be gentle.”
I stood up with a smile. This statement came as a shot in my arm. I was doing the right thing. My palms. Their pressure. The contact with her super smooth skin. They had presented me with another opportunity that was unimaginable.
I did not want to take any chances. I wanted to give my mom relief from her back pain. At the same time, I wanted to feel those inviting buttocks that looked like speed breakers on a freshly concreted national highway.
I did not fiddle with her waistband. No. I resisted the urge. Instead I began to gently rub her lower back through the palazzo pants. I looked at her. Her eyes were still closed. It was an indication that she trusted me blindly. She knew that I would not try anything funny with her.
I was able to feel her buttocks underneath my palms. They were incredibly smooth. She said in a whisper, “Please rub there with ointment.”
My mind was working overtime. The room was dimly lit. I poured a generous dollop of ointment on my palm and with one hand slowly lifted her waistband and waited for her reaction.
She said nothing. She continued to lay there with her eyes closed. I slipped the palm with ointment on it up her palazzo pants and began to give her lower back a rub. My palm was coming in contact with the elastic band of her panties. She was wearing red panties.
Just yesterday I remembered folding them and keeping them neatly on her bed with her other dresses after washing them in the washing machine.
Now my manhood was out of control. Those red panties were the sexiest pair of panties I had seen. Was she aroused the way I was aroused?
I made a mental note to check these panties for any tell tale signs the next day morning while putting them into the washing machine. My dirty mind conjured up the image of me sniffing these panties and placing them atop my erect manhood imagining my mom riding my erect penis with her eyes closed.
**
Komal felt a tingling sensation between her legs. She had on the same pair of panties from last night. She had loved the back rub. She did not remember how long Rocky had given her a back rub. She remembered waking up this morning with no pain in her back whatsoever. And yes, her son was right. She had felt aroused. She had noticed a wet patch across her crotch upon waking up.
After Vikram’s demise, nobody had touched her private parts. She allowed her son to touch her back and lower back to get rid of pain. But look at what had happened.
She was turned on. Her vagina was oozing warm juice. Komal lied down on her son’s bed and spread her legs. She kissed the secret diary and placed it between her legs. She wanted her son to smell the aroma of her vagina and write more.
Komal stayed in that position for over half an hour. The door to their house opened. She opened her eyes and realised where she was. Rocky was back from college. It was time for lunch. Oh my God! She muttered under her breath.
Komal was pretending to rifle through that secret safe when Rocky found her mother in his room. The secret diary was underneath the pillow just inches away from where his mom was sitting.
[ To be Continued ]
☆☆
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