A New Life with Grandma

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I grew up in an ordinary family in southern India in the early 1970s. My father was a gentle, law-abiding miller. He had a drinking problem and often came home drunk at night. He was good to my mother, and on the surface, she seemed to respect and love him, but sometimes I could sense her sadness, though I didn't know why at the time. I was a good child and always helped my mother with chores, which made our relationship very good. I often kept her company and chatted with her to help her pass the time during the day, because after my father went to work every morning, we would only see him late at night, by which time he would be completely drunk. It seemed

to me that they had lost their passion; most of the time, my father was indulging in alcohol and neglecting my mother. But don't get me wrong, my father still loved my mother. Their relationship was still good, just lacking the romance of when they were newly married. I worked part-time as a taxi driver to earn extra money to supplement the family income, which meant I rarely had time to make friends.

Every day after the whole family went to bed, my mother liked to sit with me at the kitchen table and chat. As time went on, our relationship grew closer. She would often hug me and tell me that I was the most important person in her life. Compared to my peers, I was a precocious child. When I was 16, I became aware of sex and saw my mother in a different light. To me, she was a very sexy woman. She had long, jet-black hair that reached her hips. Her eyes were bright, sparkling with a gentle light. Despite having three children, her full figure, wrapped in a sari, possessed a mature woman's allure to me. We talked about everything. I talked about my favorite movie stars, and she told me about her life before marrying my father. She never regretted getting married because it brought her the most important things in her life: a husband and children.

Once I realized my feelings for my mother, I seized every opportunity to seek her embrace and kisses. I complimented her on her looks, which made her blush. After work, I brought her candy and flowers from the grocery store, and I regularly took her to the movies every Sunday night. During the film, I would hold her hand and lean close to her, and soon after, I would put my arm around her shoulder, and she would lean on me, resting her head on my shoulder. I knew she looked forward to spending weekends with me because I noticed she always chose the movies in advance. After each movie, we would sit in the garden near the theater, where we could see the whole town, and we would chat happily, joking with each other.

"Sanda," she said to me one day, "I think we should find you a girl. You'll be 17 soon."

"Mother," I answered without thinking, "I don't want to get married. I want to stay with you forever."

She looked up at me in surprise.

"Mother, did I scare you?"

"I think we should go," she said after a moment of silence. I knew I had said the wrong thing and cursed myself inwardly, but I knew that what's done is done. So I decided to go all in.

“Mother,” “If I have offended you, I apologize, but please forgive me, I still have to say, I have fallen in love with you, and I will do everything I can to make you happy.”

Then there was another silence, and then she looked at me sadly. “Sanda, it’s not your fault, it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have let this continue, even though I will be lonely.”

“Mother,” I said, “I wish this hadn’t happened, but in fact, I’m glad I’ve fallen in love with you.”

“My dear child, you are my son,” she retorted, “This shouldn’t happen between a mother and a son, especially since I’m a 41-year-old married woman.”

“Mother,” I replied desperately, “what should and shouldn’t be. I can’t take back my love; please at least consider what I’ve said.” She was silent for a long time, then wept. My heart was breaking. I pulled her close, letting her rest against my chest and holding her tightly.

“Sanda,” she whispered, “I think we should go home.”

From then on, our relationship cooled. No matter how much I begged her, she wouldn’t let me take her out; instead, she told me I should go out with people my age. I could tell this had hurt her deeply. As the days went by, she looked so sad and lonely. This continued for a month. My father noticed the change and asked her why she wouldn't go to the movies with me anymore. My mother shook her head and asked my father why he wouldn't take her out.

"You know, Kamala, I work every day of the week, Sunday is my only day off, I need to stay home and rest," he replied. Then he went back to drinking as usual. My mother had a big fight with him and ran out of their bedroom.

The following Tuesday, my father and siblings went out, so I asked her to go out with me again. To my surprise, she calmly nodded in agreement. I happily went over and hugged her, and she gently rested her head on my shoulder. I hugged her tightly, which seemed to me to mean that she acquiesced to the change in our relationship. I gently but very calmly stroked her back with my palm. She was still leaning on my shoulder. I helped her up, looked deeply into her eyes, and said in a calm tone, "Mom, I love you, and I can't change that." I lowered my head and kissed her cheeks, her neck, and then boldly kissed her lips. She didn't pull away from my embrace. I even felt that she was responding to me.

From then on, every time I gave her flowers, I received a warm kiss on the cheek. When we were alone together, we would embrace for a long time, and my hands would gradually become more openly affectionate. In the days leading up to our Sunday date, Mom suddenly reverted to her old ways. Even my sister noticed the change when she was about to go to the movies with me. My sister laughed and said that I had finally freed Mom from housework. I could only mutter that Mom needed some changes too.

That Sunday evening, my mother wore a dizzyingly tight-fitting dress. Her breasts and hips were fully encased in it, and even the slight bulge in her abdomen was less noticeable under its constriction. She looked incredibly voluptuous. I was completely captivated by her mature beauty. She looked much younger. This attracted many envious glances. The movie was a melancholic romance. As usual, during the movie, when her head rested on my shoulder, I put my arm around her. After the movie, we went to the park as usual; it was a chilly night.

My mother looked into my eyes and said, "Sanda, thank you for being with me, thank you for giving me such a wonderful evening."

I looked at my mother and said, "Mom, you look incredibly sexy tonight."

My mother blushed and laughed, "Oh, Sanda, if you weren't my son, I would think you were trying to seduce your own mother."

I looked at her and said, "Mom, I am."

My mother looked up, "Sanda, for God's sake, I am your mother, and I married your father."

"Mom, do you really care about her? I think he no longer cares about you, and you are very unhappy. Give me a chance, I will make you happy!"

She was silent for a moment and then calmly replied, "Sanda, perhaps we should go home before we do something we might regret later."

I said painfully, "Mom, I'm sorry, but you are so beautiful that I couldn't control my words and actions. So many times I wished you weren't my mother, maybe that would make it easier for you to accept."

I could see that my mother was very happy to hear my praise. I think my father must have never praised her like that.

My mother stroked my cheek. "My poor baby, of course I'm so glad you're my son. Do you really think I'm beautiful?"

I pulled her to my chest and smiled as I replied, "Yes, Mom, you're not only beautiful but also sexy." Then I suddenly lowered my head and kissed her.

My mother didn't flinch, but passively let me hold her stiff body. I kissed her, growing more passionate. Suddenly, she kissed me forcefully. I kissed her cheeks, her eyes, her nose, and then returned to her lips. I gently parted her lips with my tongue, exploring her mouth. We kissed like that for a long time, when suddenly my mother said, "Sanda, it's getting late. I think we should go home."

On the way home, she leaned on me, her head resting on my shoulder. I saw a slight smile on her lips. Halfway there, I suddenly pulled the car over to the side of the road. To her surprise, I pulled her towards me and kissed her. I gently placed my hands on her breasts. She trembled, pulled away from me, and whispered, "Sanda, we shouldn't do this." But I interrupted her and kissed her lips again. I continued to caress her breasts. They were full and soft in my hands. Under my caresses, my mother moaned excitedly, responding to my kisses even more passionately.

Suddenly she pushed me away. "Sanda, we should go home."

"Okay, Mom."

When we got home, everyone else was already asleep. I knew Father must have fallen asleep long ago because he'd had too much to drink. After we went inside, I kissed her at the bottom of the stairs to our bedroom. She refused, saying someone would come downstairs.

I replied calmly and firmly, "Mom, I love you more than anyone else. I want to kiss you forever. I can't control myself. And everyone else is asleep."

"I love you too, Sanda. But I'm a married woman. No matter what your father has done wrong, I am still his wife, and that can't be changed."

"Mom," I whispered, "it's just a kiss, it won't cause any harm."

Mom was silent for a moment. To my surprise, she nodded in agreement. She replied, "You go inside and wait for me. I'll go see if your father is asleep."

In the room, I paced excitedly back and forth. Suddenly, my bedroom door opened, and Mom came in. She closed the door and then locked it. She rushed to me, her voice filled with disgust. “Dad’s drunk and asleep, just like always,” she said.

“Sanda, I don’t think we should let this get out of control,” she whispered. “I’m scared.”

“I know,” I replied. “Mother, trust me. We’ll keep this a secret. Nobody will know.”

“Sanda…” she said timidly, kissing my cheek. I gently pushed her down onto the bed and kissed her. Our kisses grew more passionate; I could almost feel her excitement through her cotton sari. My hands roamed over her body, caressing her breasts and then her hips.

The flesh on her hips was so soft and plump. I caressed them for a while, then unbuttoned her blouse. As I first unbuttoned it, Mother tensed in my arms, then relaxed after a few minutes. I quickly unbuttoned her blouse and pulled it off as fast as I could, afraid she might change her mind. Throughout this process, I continued to kiss her. I found the hook of her bra on the back again. Mother once more weakly pressed her arm against mine, whispering, "Sanda, I think of your father." I knew there was no going back. So I silenced her with a more passionate kiss, ripped off her bra, and her full breasts, naked and trembling, were exposed before me. I caressed them. They were so full and soft. I lowered my head and took one nipple into my mouth, enveloping it with my tongue, licking and sucking it. Mother moaned. Her nipple was long and large, and soon hardened under my tongue's caresses.

"Mother, I love you. I can't control myself. I know I should feel guilty for loving my own mother, but I don't care, I just love you."

I released the nipple and kissed my way down her body towards her navel, my tongue feeling the slightly salty taste of her sweaty skin. When I reached her navel, I kissed and licked it, and Mother let out a joyful moan. At the same time, I stroked her legs up and down. Her legs stiffened in my hands. My hands slowly slipped under her sari.

When my hand reached her crotch, covered by her petticoat, Grandma's body stiffened, and she squeezed her legs together. I lifted myself up and kissed her lips, pushing my tongue aside and into her mouth. Grandma groaned and relaxed her clenched thighs. I caressed her through her petticoat, feeling the cleft below her abdomen, and rubbed it there through the petticoat, eliciting a pleasurable moan from Grandma. My fingers felt the petticoat covering the cleft was soaked, so I pulled my hand out from under her petticoat, quickly pulled off her sari, and then quickly took off my own clothes. My penis was hard and pointing towards the ceiling. I leaned down between her legs, pressing my mouth against her crotch, covered by her petticoat. Now, only the fabric of the petticoat separated my mouth from her crotch. I took a deep breath, smelling the scent emanating from her crotch, damp and slightly tinged with the smell of urine.

I licked her crotch through her petticoat, and my mother swayed her lower body excitedly. As I sucked the fluid seeping from the petticoat, I raised my hand, hooked my fingers around the waistband of her petticoat, and pulled it down. Suddenly, my mother trembled, grasped my hand, and said, "No, no, we can't… You're my son, I can't do this."

"Mom, I love you, you're the most beautiful woman in the world. I know sex is a little unusual for a mother and son, but I believe it's natural for people in love."

"But what if someone finds out?"

"Mom, we can be careful, no one will know."

"But, Sanda…"

Before she could finish, I kissed her, kissing her hair, her eyes, and then down to her sensual lips again. My mother slumped in my arms, returning my kisses more passionately. Our tongues intertwined.

I reached for her petticoat again. This time she didn't resist; I pulled it off and threw it on the floor. Faced with my greedy gaze, she instinctively covered her private parts with her hands. I gently but firmly removed her hands, gazing intently at the thick, bushy black pubic hair.

My mother pulled me towards her and kissed me. My hands gently traced down her abdomen, my fingers probing her crotch. I lowered my head and took her nipple into my mouth, simultaneously parting her labia and inserting my middle finger into the soft flesh of her vagina.

She was already wet there, so my mouth followed her body down, kissing all the way to between her legs. I first gently licked the inside of her thighs, then moved my mouth to the pubic hair. I licked the thick pubic hair, then parted her labia with my fingers. The scent emanating from there was even stronger. A small opening on her pink vulva was twitching incessantly; this must be where my mother urinated. I inserted my tongue into her wet opening, licking the small opening and the fleshy walls. The salty taste, accompanied by the warm breath, made it almost impossible for me to breathe. When my tongue touched her clitoris, my mother let out a pleasurable moan.

While continuing to lick her clitoris, I inserted my middle finger into her vagina, thrusting it in and out. With my continued stimulation, my mother's breathing became heavier, her vagina grew increasingly wet, and my finger was covered in her fluids. So I increased my speed, licking her clitoris even more vigorously. Soon, my mother suddenly let out a sharp moan, her whole body tensed, and then she began to tremble uncontrollably. I knew she had reached orgasm. After a while, she pulled me up from between her legs and laid me on top of her.

"Oh my god, Sanda, this feels amazing," she whispered shyly in my ear. "I've never had an orgasm like this before."

"Mom, you're a beautiful and sexy woman. Making love with you has always been my dream."

"Do you really think I'm pretty?"

"Mom, of course. Prettier than all the movie stars."

Hearing this, Mom gently pulled me closer to her, kissing my lips while simultaneously reaching out to grasp my penis and rubbing it back and forth against her wet vulva. Gradually, she became aroused again.

“Mom,” I whispered, “I love you.” As if in silent agreement, she parted her legs wide, grasped my penis, pressed the head against her vaginal opening, and then pulled my buttocks towards her. My penis slowly entered, and with each thrust, her vagina opened like flower petals. Suddenly, Mom arched her back to meet me, allowing my penis to fully enter her vagina. To my surprise, despite having given birth to three children, Mom’s vagina was still very tight; the soft vaginal walls tightly gripped my penis, and her vaginal fluids continuously lubricated my glans. I thrust my penis in and out somewhat roughly, her body trembling with each impact, actively welcoming my penetration. Each time, I thrust deeply and accurately into Mom’s cervix, the head of my penis sliding over the soft, elastic opening before withdrawing again, then thrusting once more.

With each thrust, her breathing grew heavier, and after about 15 minutes, she suddenly stiffened, her hands gripping my buttocks tightly. My penis convulsed violently, and I ejaculated. Soon, hot semen flowed out from our joined bodies. We held each other tightly, kissing, enjoying our shared climax. After a while, I became excited again, and my penis, which had been semi-erect inside her, slowly hardened again. So I gently thrust in and out of her vagina again. This time, I went slowly and gently, so it lasted longer. Finally, my mother and I reached climax simultaneously again.

"Sanda," she said after a while, when we had both calmed down, "your thing is so big. I've never felt so good when I did this with your father. I can't even remember the last time I had an orgasm." "

Mom, it's because I love you so much."

"Sanda," my mother said softly, "I should go back to your father's bed. We can't let anyone suspect anything."

We kissed and held each other for a while, then she got up to wash herself and prepare to get dressed and leave.

Then I picked up her petticoat and whispered, "Can I keep this?"

"Want to keep it as a souvenir of tonight?" she asked with a smile.

"Yes."

"Good, but you must hide it well."

My mother then put on her clothes and quietly slipped out of my room.

The next day, when our whole family sat together for breakfast, my mother didn't look at me once. After breakfast, as I was packing my things to go to school, my mother came into my room.

"Sanda, we need to talk," she said.

"Mother, what is it?"

My mother blushed and said, "Sanda, we can't repeat the mistake we made last night."

Before I could speak, she stopped me.

“Last night was wonderful, and I’ll cherish it forever. But I’m a married woman, and your mother. This is wrong, and it can’t happen again.”

“Mom,” I approached her, pulled her into my arms, and whispered, “I love you, and I know you love me too. Please give us another chance.”

I lowered my head to kiss her, but she avoided my lips, broke free of my embrace, gently shook her head, and turned to leave my room.

From then on, our relationship cooled. Her resolve was firm, though I could tell she wasn’t happy. Slowly, I gave up trying too. My mother enthusiastically searched for a marriage partner for me. She contacted all our relatives and friends, asking them to help find me a match. She even consulted an astrologer to calculate suitable girls for me and arranged for me to date girls whose zodiac signs were compatible with mine. Finally, I agreed to date a girl because she looked a bit like my mother. So we quickly set a wedding date.

But strange things started happening after my engagement. I noticed a change in my mother’s attitude towards me. Her behavior was strange; she often scolded me for the smallest things. Finally, one day when it was just the two of us, she said to me, "Sanda, maybe we can go see a movie this weekend."

I was overjoyed. But then I thought, maybe Mom just wanted to cheer me up.

"Mom, of course, of course!" I replied happily.

In the days that followed, I was in a daze, eagerly awaiting this day. That day, Mom wore a sexy dress and we went out. I could hardly believe that the sexy woman beside me was my mother. After the movie, we drove to the garden we used to frequent. I reached out and pulled her into my arms; she didn't resist, and we kissed passionately. My hands roamed all over her body, finally stopping at her full buttocks, rubbing her flesh through her skirt. We lingered like that for about an hour, then drove home. When we got home, everyone else was already asleep.

"Go back to your room and wait for me; I'll go see if your father is asleep," she whispered to me.

When she came into my room, I was already naked on the bed. She locked my door, got into my bed, and we kissed eagerly again. I took off her clothes, lay on top of her, and kissed every inch of her skin over and over. I held her buttocks and licked her genitals until she reached orgasm. Then I lifted her up, let her hold my rock-hard penis, and placed it at her entrance. With a little force, I squeezed into her smooth, wet vagina, holding her buttocks as I thrust in and out. Each deep thrust made my mother moan with pleasure. I rolled around on the bed, sometimes she sat on top of me, sometimes I pressed her down. I don't know how much time passed, but I finally ejaculated inside her, and she reached orgasm as well.

"Oh my god, Sanda, this feels so good," she said after calming down.

"Mom, have you changed your mind about me getting married now?" I asked.

“Son, I’ve missed you terribly these past few days, especially as your wedding date approaches. This feeling is almost unbearable. I know I’m jealous, because the only person I love in this world is you.”

“Like lovers?” I asked excitedly.

“Yes, I’ve realized that my love for you isn’t just the kind of love I have as a mother, so I can’t bear to be apart from you,” she whispered in my ear.

“Do you love me more than your father?” I asked.

“Son, I respect your father, but I don’t love him. Since being with you, I’ve learned what love is. Lying in your arms like this, I’m truly happy. Sanda, my dear son, I want to be your wife. Will you marry me?”

I never expected my mother to say such things, and I quickly and happily replied, “Mother, you’ve just made me the happiest man in the world. I don’t want to share you with anyone, not even Dad. You belong only to me. Your body is mine. I want you to be able to lie naked in my arms like this anytime, and I can enter your body anytime.”

“Son, that’s wonderful, but you must remember, this is a secret between us. I long to lie in your arms like this forever, but we must be careful. I don’t want your father, brothers, or your sister to know about this, otherwise we can’t be together.”

“Yes, Mother, I understand,” I replied.

After we finished speaking, we kissed. I caressed her breasts, then took her already swollen nipple into my mouth. My mother groaned as she pushed me back onto the bed, grabbed my penis, aimed it at her vagina, and slowly sat down until my penis was fully inside her. She leaned down, kissing me as she moved up and down, slowly at first, then faster and faster. Suddenly, she let out a short scream; I knew she had reached orgasm. Before she could calm down, I rolled over and straddled her, thrusting forcefully. Her body trembled with each impact, and when my glans hit her cervix and I ejaculated, she let out another soul-stirring moan.

From that day on, my mother and I began our secret married life. We were so passionate that we risked being discovered several times.

Once, when the whole family was downstairs in the living room, I saw my mother go upstairs to use the bathroom, so I followed her and quietly opened the bathroom door. My mother was urinating. She clearly hadn't expected me to come in, her eyes wide with surprise. Before she could speak, I pulled her off the toilet, grabbed some toilet paper to wipe her genitals clean, and made her turn around, bend over, and hold the toilet seat with her buttocks facing me. I then entered her from behind, holding her buttocks. "Darling, someone will be coming up," she whispered. But I ignored her and continued until I ejaculated inside her. Then, without letting her clean herself, I helped her pull up her petticoat and told her to go downstairs like that. That day, my mother wore that petticoat, soaked with my semen.

Another night, I suddenly felt a strong urge for my mother, so I sneaked into my parents' room. They were both fast asleep. I knew my father had drunk a lot and was sleeping soundly. I gently shook my mother awake, signaling her to be quiet, and whispered for her to come to my room. About two minutes later, she came to my room. As I pushed her onto the bed and undressed her, she whispered a scolding, "Sanda, we can't take this risk. You'll be found out if you come into our room." But I interrupted her with a kiss, then took off her clothes and made love to her. As she left, I promised her I would be careful next time.

But the next night, my mother came to my room with her bedding, excitedly telling me, "I told your father that because he drinks so much every day, I can't stand the smell of alcohol all night, so I'll sleep in your room for now. He agreed, so from now on, every night belongs to you." Hearing this, I excitedly grabbed her, kissing her and saying, "Mom, now we can finally live like husband and wife." That night we made love all night long.

Three weeks later, my mother shyly told me she was pregnant. Eight months later, we had our love child—a lovely daughter. Afterwards, at my mother's request, we moved to another city, leaving my alcoholic father in our hometown. There, we still addressed each other as mother and son in public, but as husband and wife at home. Soon we had another son and lived a happy life.

[The End]

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A New Life with Grandma

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