"Ajay. I am leaving now," she said.
I was awake and heard her well, but didn't respond. I chose to remain locked up in my room, hiding under the bedsheet, until I heard the click of the lock echo through the house. It took a good few seconds before that happened; she always does that. Every morning, it is the same story. She says goodbye, and waits for me to respond; I do not respond, and she is forced to leave silently. Every morning it happens and it sinks my heart lower and lower with each passing day. I am sorry Mom, I am not a good son.
I tossed the heavy blanket off me and began panting heavily. Sweat covered my naked body from head to toe and for a brief moment, I truly believed I was going to drown in it. It was the middle of summer and here I was sleeping under a heavy blanket. The things I do when I am horny.
My skin is burning hot and my chest is feeling heavy. There are butterflies in my stomach while my legs jitters uncontrollably. I put my right hand behind my head while I gently caress my abs with my left hand. Oh, how I wish it was a woman doing this to me right now.
As I stared into the ceiling fan above, whose slow speed did very little to alleviate my troubles, my mind began to wonder. Free of the burning inferno I began to think again. The first thought that arose in my head was that how my life has been a living hell.
From when I can remember, it has just been me and my Mom. She has been my only family. Father has been absent from my life since I was born. Mom would not speak of him, let alone give me his name. Anytime I brought up him up, her usually cheerful face would turn dull, as if almost about to cry. She never even gave me his name. The same goes for my grandparents. I do not know what happened, but even Mom's parents are a complete mystery to me. No uncles or aunts ever visited our house. No cousins or nephews to speak of. Family outside this house didn't exist. However, none of this really bothered me. In fact, I am more than happy that it is just Mother and I. It does, however, explain why I am the way I am. But more on that later.
Not having a family wouldn't have amounted to much, if my social life was decent. I had friends. I still remember bringing a few of them over to my house to the joy of my mother. But that was a long time ago. As I grew up, making friends was a talent I slowly began to lose. Even to this day, I am not sure what went wrong. The year I turned fifteen, my small group of friends turned to one and the next year it turned to zero. I tried, I tried every possible way, and yet I found myself distancing others, rather than making new ones. I never understood what went wrong. Things went from bad to worse in the final two years of high school. I was, basically, ostracized from the class. No one talked to me, no one tried to be friends with me, it was truly a living hell. What was worse, to this day, I could not tell you why that was the case.
There is, however, one aspect of me that would have made a good reason, had they known about it. But I highly doubt they did, and I am fairly confident if they did, I would have made more friends. This is the fact that I am a pervert. A well-hidden pervert, mind you. I love sex. I love to feel the skin and I love to be horny. It is a secret I buried inside me for a very long time. I still remember those days, the fruitful age of puberty when I began to think about women's breasts and what their underwear hid from me. But I buried it. I was always a good boy, someone who never got into any trouble, and it was a face I wanted to keep. However, that good-boy attitude did jack shit for me. I continued in a downward spiral of loneliness, fear, and self-hate until I hit rock bottom. And yet, I didn't break the face. Through the last year of High school, people never knew who I was. Everyone called me the maid virgin, a half-right nickname. I never managed to have sex till now.
This desire to satiate my lust grew and grew and it moulded me into the man I am today. Ever since I was fifteen I began looking into self-improvement as a way to overcome this loneliness. By self-improvement, I just mean bulking up. This process skyrocketed in the last year when I gained close to fifteen kilos. At six foot, four inches tall and with a muscular build that weighed eighty-one kilos, I was quite proud of the work I did to get my Greek god body. But it did little in the way of getting me lucky. Girls from class often avoided me, only ever talking to me when it was needed.
In short, I am a horny motherfucker and I have not had even one chance of losing my virginity. At this point, I am nothing but a degenerate and I have reached a point in life where I am happy to wear it as a badge of honour. However, only one person is stopping me from doing that and that is my mother.
Her name is Samantha and I don't know much about her. She is exactly as I described her in my dreams. She is at least five foot ten inches tall, almost reaching my lips where I could easily kiss her on her forehead. Yeah, she is tall and I wasn't kidding when I said she had the body of a goddess, or at least I think she does. Mom is a very secretive person, she never revealed anything about her past life and doesn't spend any time outside the house. She works from nine to six and spends the rest of the day at home. On weekends, she is home. During holidays, she is home. Once I asked why she had no friends, to which she simply said she couldn't make any. I can empathize with that. She was also a very conservative person. She never wore anything apart from a chudidhar to work and a long nightgown at home. Even these humble dresses cannot hide her hot figure. Her hips are wide enough to carry me and her chest is always on the verge of bursting out of her dress. She might be fat and lack a thin waist as I imagine, but I am more than happy to trade it for that.
Oh, mother. Mother, mother, mother, mother.
There I go again. I felt my cock pulsating, it began to rise slowly and with each passing second, it became harder and harder. My mind didn't do much to help silence it. I began to picture the image of her I saw in my dream. Her delicious boobs were covered up by the apron but her sweet bubble butt made my heart skip a beat. And that smile, it always got to me. I want to fuck my mother so badly right now, I would do anything for it to come true.
Soft sunlight filtered through the thin window screen, illuminating the room and me in a cosy orange hue. I stopped everything, shut my eyes, and just breathed in, letting the moment pass. My head finally cleared up of thoughts and I was once again able to focus again. Sometimes, I wish I didn't have to think so much. Every moment of my life has just been thinking and thinking and it makes me numb to the real enjoyment in life.
Sigh. Time for a break.
I felt the tightness from the night set in, so quickly got about doing some routine morning exercises. Nothing great, a couple of sets of stretches followed by a few sets of push-ups and squats. You will surprised how great it feels after doing a round of morning exercises, especially nude. Next in line of business was getting this layer of sweat off me. I quickly hopped into the shower for a nice dose of hot water. Before long, I was out in my undies preparing a cup of morning joe. Mom always prepares breakfast before leaving. This time it was a plate of flavoured rice, a South Indian classic. I long to eat chicken or even eggs in the morning, but I would have to spend my own money. That is because Mom is a vegetarian. She thinks I am a vegetarian too because I was a bit afraid to tell her I wasn't. I am certain she would be completely fine with it, but I didn't want to open that can of worms. I began to debate if it was worth the effort to go outside and get a few eggs, but in the end, I just decided to make do with what I got.
Not going to lie, having no meat did ruin my mood a little. I walked back to my room with my cup of coffee before settling in front of the computer. This has pretty much been my morning routine for the past few months. Wake up, exercise, shower, get coffee and breakfast, and plop in front of the computer. What I do in front of the computer depends on the mood. If I am not feeling horny, I usually just hang around forums, watch random ass videos, or every now and then watch a movie. But if I am in the mood, which is like ninety per cent of the time, I start jacking off and try to keep it going until Mom returns. But today, I am in a bad mood and unsure how to go about it.
I switched on my pc and opened up the browser when I was suddenly greeted by a giant breast woman shoving her tits in my face. Oh right, I didn't close the browser properly last night. Well it doesn't matter anymore, all the cooldown I maintained till now was gone and my cock began to push its way out of my underwear.
Sigh. Here we go again. I picked up the mug and took a sip. Warm coffee travelled down my chest, cheering me up somewhat. But it is only a matter of time before I get back into the mental stress.
Ever since I finished high-school, the thought of my future has on mine and my mom's mind. Both us have very different plans for my future. Mom wants to do normal boy things, get a degree, get a job, go outside India, get a wife, and what not. However, I have a different idea of my future. To be fair, I gave this honest thought. Maybe a normal college life is what I need, maybe a normal job is what I should be aiming for, a normal life... But, I hate normal. I am not normal and I don't want to be normal. I want sex, I love sex. I have only ever dreamt of it and I can now only ever think of it. So, it made sense that this road of passion is what I must pursue. It is a crazy idea! I know. But that is what I want and now I am reaching a clarity of a situation.
However, there one person stopping from pursuing. I wish I had a sibling. Just so I can be sure Mom will be left alone. Right now, I can't see Mom surviving or rather, I can't see Mom living alone. But will the other option work? Will she be receptive? It is morally right to even do that? It is a confusion that has frustrated me for years. But at this moment, looking at it, it feels like this bond will break either way. So, why not do what the heart desires?
I put the coffee down and begin typing away on the keyboard.
"Is mother and son incest wrong?" I type into Google and hit enter.