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My son my prince - fuckstories



My son my prince
By: JUMBOJANAKI

For the first time in more than five years I felt like hugging my husband. It was not with any romantic intentions but for the really exciting news he told me. After more than a year Ram, my 20 year old son will be visiting us for the festival holidays. The last twelve months have been an ordeal for me living without seeing my only son. He hadn't scored enough marks to gain admission to any of the engineering institutions in town and hence decided to join an institution outside the state. The frequent chats on the phone were barely any consolation for me. I was missing the prince of the house very badly. Both my husband and Ram was computer savvy and kept exchanging mails. Ram had once sent a few photographs of him taken during his picnic to Bangalore. As any proud mother, I kept inviting my neighbors to see those wonderful photographs. To be honest, he looked extremely handsome in his blazers. It was one of my neighbors who gave the ultimate punch by telling me that my son looked like a very popular movie star. At first, I simply laughed at her comparison and dismissed her statement as an exaggeration. However, I kept opening the computer every now and then and soon discovered that the neighbor wasn't completely wrong. Shortly, I happened to watch a movie in which the actor had played the leading role. Like all south Indian movies, it also had a few intense romantic sequences and by the time the movie was finished, I was feeling itchy in my crotch.

My sex life has remained irregular to say the least. My husband perhaps assumed that we weren't young anymore to have our share of fun once Ram came out of the high school. He was content with his quota of newspapers, transcendental meditation and yoga. He seldom revealed his horny side and when he did, it was more out of his own personal compulsions. He had always remained predictable on the bed. He looked so methodical while having sex and it was never enjoyable from the start till he eventually groaned shooting his cum inside me. He wasn't getting anywhere closer to what I normally expected from him. I kept telling lies to him that I had enjoyed his intimacy as is expected from a typical Indian housewife. At 45, it was humiliating to resort to masturbating although it seemed the only option available to me. The fantasies about having a loud orgasm remained a distant dream. My eyes began wandering without discretion, taking glimpses of strong men, including the paperboy and even the LPG delivery man. I can't claim to be a gorgeous woman but I always took care of myself. I have noticed even young guys staring at my rather large breasts also my full and round butt. Like most of the women who are born and brought up in Kerala, I had dark, long curly hair that nearly touched my waist. There were times when I used to count the days waiting for my son. Now, I was literally counting the minutes. It was very difficult to explain the thrill which ran through me as I watched Ram getting out of the taxi just a day before the Diwali festival. Like the obedient son that he is, he immediately bowed and touched my feet and went to his father's feet seeking our blessings.

"Long live Ram," My husband blessed him with raised hands. I was moved to see the sudden moisture in my husband's eyes.

"You have become very lean," I spoke to Ram.

"Don't tell lies. Mom," Ram said laughingly. He was right. He was looking more muscular than a year ago. I guessed that the moderate climate and the abundance of fruits have really made him a stronger man. He was wearing tight jeans and hence I easily found out that his thighs and legs have become stronger too.

"I am hungry," Ram said teasingly. Both I and my husband laughed at once. We knew that Ram can never wait for the homely food. I walked into the kitchen with an unfamiliar excitement. The father and the son had a few things to talk about while I tried to attend to the kitchen. My eyes strayed again to Ram as he stepped into the bathroom with just his shorts on. I briefly had a look at his thighs and broad chest with youthful hair. From the kitchen, I was able to hear the noise of the shower and I began imagining him soaping his naked body, stroking his smooth skin and I closed my eyes, imagining my fingers on him. I shivered as I felt the moist heat in my panties. The excitement of Ram's return lasted till late in the evening. My husband and Ram kept watching some news channel when I decided to go to sleep. I had to get up very early next morning and hence needed some sleep to relax. But, my mind was very much awake repeatedly bringing pictures of my son before my eyes. It was well past midnight that my husband finally came to bed and I started pretending as though I was fast asleep. I heard my husband let out a large yawn so close to me and felt a bit annoyed. I thought he was asleep soon but he wasn't. His fingers crawled on my belly and stayed there for sometime. The old man was feeling horny. I stopped him once his hands held my breasts.

"I have to get up early tomorrow," I cautioned him and pushed his hands off my body. He sighed gently and turned his back to me. Soon I felt relieved listening to his unique snoring sound.

It was Diwali next day.

I woke up around 3 A.M and had a few things to do in the kitchen. I prepared the scented oil for the early morning bath and also the ginger paste neatly blended with sweet and pure ghee. We had purchased new clothes almost a month ago and I kept them ready after sprinkling some rose water. The sweets and savories had been ready for almost two days. Everything about this Diwali looked somewhat special for me. My husband had bought some firecrackers as he believed that it was mandatory for Diwali. Ram had lost all his fascination for firecrackers ever since he went to high school. I knew that the only thing which thrilled him during Diwali was the early morning oil bath and the wholesome breakfast that followed. I was the first to take bath and get ready for the celebrations to begin. I had selected a very expensive Benarasi silk sari for this year's festival. It had a broad border with wonderful handworks in golden fibers. My hair smelt wonderful after a very satisfying oil bath and after wearing a few strings with jasmine flowers, I looked like a younger woman in the mirror. I smiled to myself seeing the admiration in my husband's eyes once he woke up. It was his turn to get ready and he quietly went for the bath after applying a hell lot of oil on his head and body. I stepped into Ram's room where he was fast asleep in spite of the noise of the firecrackers getting in through the windows. Normally, I would let him sleep till he wished but it was a different scenario today. I just wanted my son to wake up and see me standing dressed up well for the festival. He woke up at once after I shook his shoulders a few times. His eyes slowly opened and within seconds they were wider.

"Good morning, mom," Ram greeted with a smile. "You are looking great."

"Good morning," I replied with a fake blush. "Thanks for the compliment."

"Where is my coffee?" His arms stretched towards me.

"Not today," I told him strictly. "At least once in a year, try coffee after brushing."

He laughed and sat up on the bed. I went back to the kitchen to prepare a cup of coffee for him. I kept watching him as he moved towards the wash basin and began brushing his teeth. He was bare-chested and wore the usual shorts. I watched his muscles on the shoulders and back flex as he was brushing. His biceps weren't as round and strong as the movie star but nevertheless he had a body to be proud about. I followed him to the sitting room once he finished brushing and deliberately touched his fingers as I handed over a cup of steaming coffee. He wasn't showing any reaction to my touch but I felt like being hit by some current. While he was sipping the coffee, he casually glanced at me and all of a sudden, placed the cup on the tray and began laughing aloud.

"What's the matter with you?" I asked him. He continued laughing for some more time after which he stopped.

"Mom, I know you are fond of silk saris. But, you should have removed the price tag before wearing it" he said and laughed again. I suddenly realized that I had totally forgotten to remove the price tag from my sari in my eagerness to impress my son. The price tag was rather stitched to one loose end of the sari. I was quick to find an opportunity to stun my son.

"Can you please remove it for me?" I made a request and before he could say anything extended the loose end of the sari towards him. He wasn't hesitating as he held the end carefully and used his nails to pull off the tag. I have stopped clipping sari with the blouse recently because I realized that some of my nice blouses were getting torn very easily. With just a gentle pull my sari would slide at once through my left shoulder and reveal my breasts to my son. I loved wearing blouses with very low cut necks mainly for comfort. But, today it might well give a glimpse of my cleavage to my son if he holds the sari a little harder than required. After waiting for my son to unveil my breasts accidentally, I became a bit restless as he wasn't looking like being careless. I decided to give a show on my own and took a few steps backwards. The brand new silk sari's stiff fiber slipped through my shoulders and a good length of it fell on Ram's thighs. He looked up once and smiled nonchalantly. The devil inside me was screaming at him. 'Look up my son. See you mom's wonderful breasts. Take a peep inside your mom's sexy cleavage.'

He didn't. He never looked up till he took off the tag. I badly wanted him to see me and have an eyeful of my breasts. I could feel the stiffness building inside my bra and my nipples felt like trying to force their way through the thick fabric. I sat close to him and deliberately tried to brush my breasts against his left shoulder. Finally he looked at me and for the first time I saw the innocence in his eyes diluting a little.

"You never said anything about my matching blouse," I told him. He smiled and did not reply.

I heard the bathroom door opening and stood up covering my breasts with my sari hastily. My husband came out, collected his new clothes and got inside the room to dress. Ram came to the kitchen with the empty cup and smiled at me as he left it inside the sink.

"All set for the oil massage?" I asked him. He smiled again and proceeded towards the sitting room. My husband came out with a broad smile looking great in his new clothes. I was amused watching him pick up a few firecrackers and laughed out. He wasn't worried as he opened the door and rushed downstairs towards the open space for lighting the crackers. I picked up the bowl with the scented oil and walked towards the sitting room. As always, Ram closed his eyes in excitement after smelling the perfumed oil with natural herbs. It is customary to begin the massage from the head and I poured a few spoons of thick oil on Ram's dense and curly hair. I was well dressed up and hence stood at a reasonable distance from him and stretching my arms as far as I could. Soon his hair was drenched in oil and a few drops started seeping down his forehead making him close his eyes tightly.

"Oh Mom, the oil has gone into my eyes," Ram murmured in agony.

"Do you want me to massage the rest of your body?" I asked.

"I wish you would. But, you are already dressed up." He sounded very disappointed.

"Don't worry," I replied. "You have to promise me. You will never open your eyes before I tell you."

Ram nodded his head without opening his eyes. It was funny looking ...


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