Craving for My Mother

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This is my second mother son story. This happened only because of the overwhelming response from all you readers. I’m indebted to it. Thank you for the personal Emails because of which I could meet a lot of interesting people.

As my previous story, this too is an attempt at writing a detailed yet concise story. Hope you guys enjoy this new tale, of which I’m certain.

Feel free to submit your valuable and worthy comments as it gives me, as a writer, immense pleasure receiving feedback.

*****

It was almost midnight. Sitting in the back of the cab that I just took from the airport, my mind was shuffling through a disorganised bundle of thoughts. Yes I was nervous. There was complete uncertainty in the way I wanted things to unfold. It wasn’t just because I was coming home after a long time. It’s been exactly 10 months. For that, I couldn’t have been happier. The jitters were there because I had made elaborate plans. This time, I was hoping to leave my hometown in a very special way. I intend take my mother along with me.

I knew it was almost an impossible task. But I had decided to go ahead no matter what. Right from my childhood, I learned that I was a bit stubborn. When I wanted something, it played out in my mind over and over again until I literally got charged up and made a move. I like to think that I always got what I wanted. Stepping out to the real world at a very young age only reaffirmed my strong will. Some call me arrogant but they can think all they want from their pathetic little lives. I knew I was a dickhead to almost everyone else other than her. To me, she was my queen.

This particular wish of mine was rather absurd and yet, I can’t imagine living without it. To make matters worse, the margin of error was so high. My mother was the one person in the whole world whom I never want to experience another screw up in her life. As the car drove into our seaside neighbourhood, I felt like a cunning predator. A guilty feeling washed all over me since I had never lied to this woman. I hated doing that. The part which I was ashamed was the fact that I madly lusted over her. My mother, my guardian angel, Mary Almeida…

As a sought after photographer working for a globally popular travel magazine, hopping flights was part of my job. As a 25 year old young man who was brought up in a middle class environment, I wasn’t complaining at all. I loved my job and the money was good. I was climbing up the professional ladder faster than any of my colleagues. The only drawback was that in the last six years since I started working, I had to be away for at least five to seven months a year. This time around, it was the longest. I couldn’t wait to get back home yet again. Just then, my phone rang. It was none other than my mom.

“Have you reached?” Her voice was eager. I could sense the excuse in her excited voice to check up on me just for the sake of it. I had already called her when I was waiting at the baggage counter. She just had to ring me up and hear me say that I was home.

“Yes, mom!” I smiled. “You can put the phone away now.” And I cut the call.

The place that I call home is the beautiful seaside state of Goa, which itself is a global destination. It is one of the must visit places for tourists who are planning their trip to India. Beautiful beaches, impressive forts, quaint shacks and the rave parties welcome the tourists all year round. It was those very photographs of these places that caught the attention of the company that I’m working in now. The people here are known for their warmth and hospitality. But thinking about my mother, it made me a bit sad that she was primarily alone in such a beautiful place.

I looked over at our home in the distance. It was perched up on a small hill in our beachside neighbourhood. I remember our cosy bungalow as spacious, warm and welcoming. It was my mother’s ancestral home.

As the car stopped in front of our house, I got out to open its large gates. The road escalated through the small garden which took up a good area of our sizable compound. Even though my mother was staying alone now, we never had a fear for security in our tightly knit community. Everyone knew each other around here and everyone looked after each other. Moreover, the Almeida residence had a special sympathy from the common folk.

A long time ago, there came a night that became the reason for people to have sympathy for the single mother living in the house on top of the hill. It happened when people crowded in on the same house that I was going to enter now. My mother was a nubile 20 years old then. After courting her for almost two months and impregnating her, the eldest son of a very prominent landlord ditched her. He called me, a growing child in her belly then, a silly mistake. Word got around how the young man and his family was treating the whole situation. Hostility towards them was the townsfolk’s initial reaction. Fearing for the safety of their son, his parents made him drop college and smuggled him out to a place far away where he joined another institution. That was the bahis firmaları last I heard of him from the various sources that tried to tell me about my parentage. I was raised by her ageing parents until I was four. They met with a horrible accident and mom suffered another tragic loss. She eventually evolved into the strong and calm woman that she is now…

The sound of the engine humming closer must have made her throw her mushy romance novel away and jump out of her favourite chair by now. She had been an avid reader of exciting fiction as long as I can remember. I always believe that mom lived those racy stories more deeply than most of the other readers. The books were a sort of an act of escapism since true love was a tragedy to her personally.

The porch came into my view and I was right. I saw her figure appearing on the veranda. The moment I got out of the car, my mom came hopping towards me with the unmistakable sound of her flips flops. She loved wearing sundresses. She had different ones for all occasions. What she was wearing now was one of my favourite ones, the one that truly showed off her amazing anatomy. It was a beige sleeveless one which had large floral prints on it. The sea breeze here was the perfect companion for the light material as it made little waves on the dress that seemed to dance on her beautiful curves.

“Helloo, my darling boy-yie!” I don’t remember when it started but I think it was during the early years of my college. From time to time, mom greeted me in her childish voice. Perhaps she missed those days from my childhood when mom used to talk to me like that. It was cute to see her act that way so I always played along. I hugged her tightly as I lifted her petite frame on her tip toes before I put her down. The cab left and we were standing in the porch looking at each other smiling.

“Hello mommmmy!” I replied in the same babyish tone.

“It’s so good to see you again. And you look so famished, mister!” Mom always commented on how tired I looked whenever she hasn’t seen me in a long while. But this time, she was right. I really needed a break from all the hectic travels.

“I think I really need a refreshing break now, mom.”

I couldn’t help feel a bit nauseated with the conspiracies that I was hatching in the back of my mind. She was right in front of me now and I was scheming to literally uproot her from the place she lived all her life. If it was anyone else in my place, they would have been content fantasizing about their seemingly unrealistic fantasies. But not me. For this, I was clinging onto my optimism that it will turn out just fine, even at the cost of breaking her temporarily. Somewhere in my distorted thought processes, I saw a very bright future for my most forbidden dream.

“And you look exactly the way you were, mom.” I grinned.

I meant that with all my heart. I held both the sides of her arms and studied her. My 6’0 foot athletic body completely dwarfed her 5’6 frame. I took in a long wallow of her features. She looked all of 45 years. Her shoulder length wavy hair bordered her radiant oval face. Her fairer complexion made her look more of a light skinned Latina than the typical Indian woman. Faint wrinkles outlined her liveliest dark brown eyes. Her lips were full but looked way more defined for its volume. It looked naturally outlined like the proud work of a great make-up artist. And that sparkling smile simply lit the air around her.

“Welcome home, son.” She sighed.

It was a quick glance on her figure as I fixed my eyes on her face again. She was always of a medium built but age graciously filled her features to make a bit more curvaceous. My eyes glided down from her feminine neck towards her chest. A great pair of tits hung on them. On her slim body, her C cups looked more like DD’s. She had the kind of sexy tits that jutted outwards onto her inner arms. And it had the perfect amount of that wholesome sag which made it look fuller.

“Come on. Spin around for me.” I was always an animated guy when it came to expressing myself but I don’t think I ever tried to tell her do stuff. I wanted her to know that there’s something different about me. Moreover, seeing her after a long time like this was a perfect setting to mask the excesses of flirtations.

I took her hand and twirled her around. The airy material hugged loosely on her beautiful body. Her slim belly flared away into her sensual love handles. When her body moved, you could make out how soft and firm they were from the vaguely visible impressions that her panty lines made on them. It swooped down to join her widening hips. They were mesmerizing to me. It was a bit thick for her body but it wasn’t disproportionate. It was perfect. The age in her made it look even more desirable as the two mature globes stirred seductively. You know when a woman has her sex intact by the way her hips gyrated when she moved. And her hips easily gave away the fact that it was still very much attractive to the male hormones.

“Someone’s pretty excited! You left me alone for such a long time and now, you’re kaçak iddaa behaving like you can’t live without me.” She chirped.

What I loved about her was that she never got stale. She was strong but she never shoved that attribute onto other people’s faces. The happy smile that she once decided to force on her lips gradually became genuine. I was a keen observer of things and I slowly understood that mom trained herself to be happy with the smallest of things. It worked well as she is the most positive minded person I can think of. She simply radiated tranquillity and happiness.

“I don’t want to leave my mommy now.” I beamed at her.

I walked inside with my luggage on one side and my mom’s arms on the other. Maybe I wouldn’t have to leave you here alone mom, I spoke to myself. I kept the luggage away and dropped down onto our large comfy sofa. The living room looked exactly the same. It felt good to be back home.

“How are things, mom? Shop’s still the same?” There wasn’t much to catch up. We were very much in contact throughout my travels. There wouldn’t have been a week or two that has passed by without us speaking over the phone.

“Same old place. New faces every day. And same old work.”

She ran what I would call a touristy place that sold almost everything a traveller could ask for. From T-shirts to local beaded necklaces to smoking pipes to fancy bags and apparels, you could find everything there. What really made the business tick all these years was the positive word of mouth. It has slowly become a must visit spot for shopping at the beachside. For me, my childhood was filled with memories of popping in and out that place whenever I wasn’t out with my friends.

“Glad to hear that, mom. I sometimes search the internet about our shop when I miss the good old days.” I told her.

She smiled at me for those sweet words. “You should go freshen up. And then we’ll have dinner. I made all your favourite dishes.” She paused. “Oh. And I cleaned your room and changed the bed sheets only yesterday.”

“Ok mom. Be right back.” I took my luggage and entered my old room. It felt good to be back in my private chamber but I wanted to be with her the most now. I quickly freshened up and returned to our dining table that was already perfectly set.

Throughout the sumptuous dinner, we talked about my life on the go. She was all ears and eagerly questioned me about all the tiny details which I may have missed telling her. She wanted to know everything about it and I talked and talked till she was satisfied. I asked her about our relatives and a few others who were close to us. I was glad to know that our little neighbourhood still had that close familial bond with each other. When dinner was over, we settled down in our living room and mom brought the both of us dessert. It was my favourite, custard pudding. That was when mom asked me about something.

“Son. I was thinking about the business of ours. I was waiting for you to come and ask you personally.” She paused. “I’m beginning to think it’s time we move on.”

“I didn’t get you, mom.” I was mildly taken aback when she uttered the words it’s time to move on. It poked the same corner of my mind where my own plans of making her move out rested.

“It’s just a thought that I had. Perhaps… we can invest in something more.” She continued.

“What are you saying, mom?” The manipulator in me was eager to know.

“You know Peter uncle…” She looked down to her dessert bowl. “He made an offer to buy the place for a really good price. We could use that money to buy a bigger shop or do something.”

I knew peter uncle. Everyone knew peter uncle. He ran a popular restaurant right in the busiest part of the town, on the west side. He was a really good man who has always been there to help us. It is an open secret that a long time ago, he liked my mom a lot. I have heard that the mistake that lead to mom being pregnant with me broke the ties that their families were looking forward to establish. Time flew by and Peter uncle married another wonderful lady. They both have been very close to us. All these years, he rightfully kept up his image of that of a gentleman.

“I spoke about doing something more to Jenny aunty. Casually. That’s it.” She spoke slowly. “She must have told him. It seems he finds our place perfect for opening another restaurant.”

Jenny aunty was one of my mom’s distant relative. A fisherwoman would be the basic definition for her profession, but I would rather call her as the most desired caterer of all culinary needs. It was from her large cold storage chain that most of the hotels and establishments in this part of town bought their fresh seafood from. She was also the go-to person for all things around here. She was the social butterfly of our middle class community.

“Are you bored of doing the same thing all these years?” I smiled. I knew she loved her little shop but I could empathise with her. Loneliness and monotony can be a forceful eye opener for wanting to do different things.

“It’s been a while. I think kaçak bahis I should do more. You know, generally…” She paused mid-sentence.

“I think it’s a good idea, mom. Maybe we can start something different…”

“Only if you are ok with it, son. As I said, I’m not really sure of it.”

“Nonsense. It is a great idea. In fact, this is actually the best time. I’m very much settled in life and I’m making good money. There’s no risk involved. I think you should do it.”

“Speaking of well settled, you have also become a celebrity in our small town.” She gleamed. “Did you see your flux on Dennis road??”

“I did, mom. Haha. Just a slightly bigger fish in this small pond.”

While coming home tonight, I had seen a small billboard that had my face on it. It read ‘Congratulations on winning the best travel photographer in South East Asia award, Joshua. Proud of you!’ Calling me a celebrity seemed bit of a stretch though, but the people of my town were really simple. They took every opportunity to broadcast if any one of us made it big in some way or the other.

“You’re not just a slightly bigger fish. People know you. And I’m proud of you.” She asserted. “I sometimes search the internet to see my son too, you know…”

This is what made talking to her exciting. My mom had a razor sharp wit. For compliments as well as sarcasm, she easily dished out clever replies. It made her a sweet challenge to talk to. It was never boring.

“What are your plans for your stay, son? How long are you going to be here?”

“Maybe a week.” Although I have to return soon, it was a one way ticket that I booked. But I couldn’t tell her why. A feeling of uneasiness surged throughout my body. Lying to her always made me feel this way.

“That’s too less! This is the longest time you have been away from your home. You couldn’t ask them for a month at least?” She spoke quickly.

“Mom…” I laughed throughout my reply. “If I ask or a month, they’ll start looking for my replacement.” She clearly didn’t know how competitive my field of work was. She raised her eyebrows and gave me a silly pout.

“I have to make a few calls to my boss for that. Maybe I can do something about it.” I avoided eye contact for the second lie in a row.

“Ok, son. And once you finish that,” she pointed at my dessert that was almost finished. “You should get some sleep now. It’s almost midnight.”

“Yes mom.”

“Ok then. Get a good night’s sleep.”

“Can I sleep in your room for today, mom?”

In our house, sharing a bed with my mom wasn’t a big deal. Mom never had any man step into the house as long as I remember. And I was free to roam around. When I grew up, things obviously changed and I shifted to my room. But her room was always free to enter unless she had closed the door while changing or taking a bath. The bed in her room was an old king size bed and three people could easily sleep comfortably on it.

“You want to? Ok, then…”

“Just like old times.” I smiled at her. “But only if you’re comfortable.”

“What do you mean if you’re comfortable? You’ll always be my little boy!” She leaned towards me, pinched one of my cheeks and fell back onto the back rest again. “You couldn’t sleep without hugging me till you were 10.”

“Sheesh…” I faked an embarrassed smile.

“Don’t you think you can act “I’m a big man now’ in front of me.” She took the empty pudding bowl from my hands.

“Ok mommy.” I mimicked the weary groan of that ten year old.

“I’m going to get ready for bed. You can change and come over.”

My mind strayed towards what mom had asked me about the shop. I counted this as one of the very few freebies that I have received in my life. I thanked my lucky stars for this one. Making her leave the shop was one of my biggest worries. Maybe my long bouts absence during the last few years must have made her realise that there’s so much more time for herself.

“Yes mom. I’ll join you after that.”

With that, she went to the kitchen to do the final round of cleaning. I took my time to unpack all my stuff and changed into my shorts and tees. I made my way into mom’s bedroom. She was on her side facing the wall. I walked around to my side and sank into the mattress. Sensing the weight, she turned her towards me.

“Good night, son.”

“Good night, mom. ”

I sat up in the bed and she turned her back towards me again. She always slept on her side as long as I can remember. The ceiling fan right above the bed was swinging at moderate speed, and it was more than enough for this pleasant seaside weather. I switched off the only bed lamp that was lit and let the moonlight shine through.

As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, the figure of my mom became clearer. Like every other boy who was growing up, I had that unforgettable phase of discovering myself. Pictures of Skimpy naked girls from magazines excited me and I was masturbating four times a day. But back then, I was ashamed that my fantasies always shifted towards the woman who was lying next to me. Our group of friends would talk about all the Milf’s we would fuck but discussing about our own moms was too taboo to talk about. Nobody openly discussed fantasising about their own mothers even if they did jerk off to them.

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