Young Indian Son’s Lust For His Hot Mom – Part 1
horny, lust, mom and son

Hi, my name is Krish. I am 19 years old and currently pursuing my first year of undergraduate studies. This story started last year. I am an avid reader and I have fair skin with silky hair. People often say that I inherited my good looks from my mother, who is a stunning 40-year-old sex goddess. My mom has a very fair complexion, beautiful dimples, and a smile that could melt the biggest mountains. Men cannot resist her charm, and even women sometimes find it hard to look away. She’s more glamorous than any Bollywood actress. I’m an avid reader, just like my father, mother, and sister. We all live together and love to spend our time reading books and discussing them. In our family, we never argue or fight. We discuss everything logically with facts and come up with conclusions. However, I struggle with academics and find it hard to concentrate on the dull textbooks provided in college. One day, the teacher assigned a clever student to sit with me and help me with my studies. At first, I was hesitant, but soon I found that the clever student was really helpful and my grades started to improve. He even gave me some interesting books to read and asked me to summarize them for him. I found out that I have a talent for storytelling and he enjoyed listening to my summaries. But then, he gave me some strange books that I didn’t understand at first. They were about relationships between a man and a woman, and even a mother and son. I was confused and didn’t know what to think of them. When I asked him about it, he just said that he found them interesting and wanted to hear my summaries of them. Then I started reading the books and found that I was enjoying them. I began to see things in a new light and started questioning the beliefs I held about relationships between family members. I even started having strange thoughts about my mother, which made me feel uncomfortable and confused. Looking back, I realize that the clever student was a pervert and had ulterior motives for giving me those books. But at the time, I was too naive to see it. I continued to read the books and summarize them for him, thinking that I was improving my storytelling skills The next day, I started reading the book, and I must admit, I got lost in the story. It was as if the book had a spell over me. The next day, I met with my friend and told him about the book. He asked me if I thought about my mother when I read the book and experienced the story. At first, I was hesitant to answer, but then I reluctantly agreed. My friend assured me that it was normal to have such thoughts and feelings. He even shared a personal experience of his own, where he had seen his mother coming out of the shower when he was sleeping. It was an awkward conversation, but it helped me realize that my feelings were not abnormal. As I continued reading, I found myself getting more and more drawn into the story. It was as if I was living in the book’s world. I began to question my beliefs about relationships and what was considered taboo. It was a strange feeling, but I couldn’t deny that the book had changed me in some way. Despite my reservations about the book, I continued to read it, and I even started to enjoy it. I felt like I was on a journey of self-discovery, and I didn’t want it to end. I knew that I had to be careful, but I couldn’t resist the allure of the book’s story. My friend’s words lingered in my mind as I continued reading. It was true that I found myself thinking about my mother more often than not. I couldn’t help but wonder if my interest in the novels had something to do with my subconscious desire for a different kind of relationship with her. As I continued to read, my thoughts were a mixture of guilt and fascination. I couldn’t deny the pleasure that the novels brought me, yet I couldn’t shake off the feeling that I was betraying my mom in some way. I knew deep down that it was wrong to have such thoughts, but I couldn’t help myself. The novels were like a drug, an addiction that I couldn’t resist. The more I read, the more I was drawn into their world. My friend’s words echoed in my mind, reassuring me that what I was feeling was normal. But it didn’t stop the guilt from gnawing at me. I wondered if my mother ever had similar thoughts, and if so, how she dealt with them. The novels became my escape from reality, a world where anything was possible. But at what cost? I couldn’t help but wonder if I was losing touch with reality, with what was right and wrong. As the days passed, my friend and I talked more about our experiences and feelings. It was a strange yet comforting bond we shared, something that only a few could understand. I had been reading books that challenged my beliefs about the world. I was excited to share my new perspective with my mother, Padmaja (I called her by her name), who was known for her intellect and open-mindedness. “Mom, I need to talk to you about something,” I said, taking a deep breath. “Of course, Krish. What is it?” she replied, looking at me with concern. “I have been reading these books that my friend gave me, and they’ve been making me question my beliefs about relationships,” I said, trying to find the right words. “What kind of relationships?” my mom asked, furrowing her brows. “Relationships between family members,” I said, feeling nervous. His mom looked surprised, but she remained calm. “What do you mean, Krish?” “These books explore the taboo topic of relationships between family members, and I’ve been struggling with my feelings about it,” I said, trying to articulate my thoughts. My mom took a moment to absorb what I said before responding. “I understand why you’re struggling, Krish. It’s a complex and sensitive topic. But what do you think about it?” “I’m not sure, mom. Part of me feels like it’s wrong, but another part of me wonders if it’s really that bad. The books make it seem like it’s normal,” I said, feeling conflicted. My mom listened attentively before responding. “Krish, you’re right that it’s a complex issue. But it’s important to remember that societal norms and values exist for a reason. There are boundaries that we shouldn’t cross, and those boundaries are in place to protect us.” “I know, mom, but what if those boundaries are arbitrary? What if they’re based on outdated beliefs that don’t make sense anymore?” I asked, feeling frustrated. My mom asked me to explain in detail about the novel. Then I looked at mom, hesitating for a moment before answering. “I think it’s the way the author portrays relationships. The characters in the book have unconventional relationships, but they are still portrayed as loving and caring. It made me question my beliefs about what’s considered normal and acceptable in relationships.” Mom looked thoughtful. “And what about your feelings towards your mother? Do you think the book has influenced that in any way?” Then I hesitated, feeling a pang of guilt. “I don’t know. I mean, I don’t think I have any romantic feelings towards you, but the book did make me question my beliefs about relationships between family members.” She nodded, understanding. “I see. It’s natural to have these thoughts, Krish. But you have to remember that these relationships are considered taboo for a reason. They can lead to a lot of emotional turmoil and conflict.” I looked down, feeling ashamed. “I know, but I just can’t help the way I feel. The book has a hold on me.” Mom put a comforting hand on my shoulder. “I understand, Krish. But you have to be careful. You don’t want to act on these feelings and risk damaging your relationship with your mother.” I nodded, feeling a sense of relief that my mother was understanding. “I know, Padmaja. I’ll be careful.” We sat in silence for a moment before my mom spoke again. “So, what do you think you should do now? Should you continue reading the book?” I thought for a moment before answering. “I don’t know. Part of me wants to keep reading, but another part of me is scared of where these thoughts might lead.” Mom nodded, understanding. “It’s a tough decision to make, Krish. But I think it’s important to remember that you have control over your actions. You don’t have to act on your feelings.” I nodded, feeling grateful for my mom’s support. “Thank you, Padmaja. You always know what to say.” She smiled. “That’s what mothers are for, Krish”. Then went to bed. That night, I was feeling happy about our conversation. As I drifted off to sleep, I suddenly felt a tingling sensation in my private area. I knew what it was and had seen videos online about how to release it. Then I tried it out, but what astonished me was that I couldn’t help but picture my mom in the act, with the image of her navel and buttocks burned into my mind. I felt guilty and ashamed for having such thoughts about my own mother. Then I tried to push the image out of my mind and focus on something else, but it only made things worse. I couldn’t shake the feeling of arousal and it kept me up for the rest of the night. My desire to see more of my mom grew stronger. Then I started to find ways to get closer to her while she was working or doing household chores. I would linger around her, pretending to be busy with my own tasks, but secretly watching her every move. I would stare at her cleavage while she was cooking, and at her buttocks while she was cleaning the tiles. Sometimes I even found myself watching her while she was taking a shower, unable to resist the temptation. I knew that it was wrong, but I just couldn’t help myself. One day, when my mom was serving food, I couldn’t resist anymore. As she bent down to put the food on the table, I reached out and grabbed her buttocks. She was taken aback and quickly stood up, looking at me in shock. “What are you doing?!” she exclaimed. I tried to apologize, but I knew that I had crossed a line. I knew that what I had done was wrong, and I felt ashamed of myself. I knew that I had to talk to my mom and explain everything to her. After some time, I gathered the courage to talk to my mom. I told her about my addiction to pornography and how it had led me to do things that I wasn’t proud of. I told her that I needed her help to get over my addiction and to become a better person. Her expression softened, and she put a hand on my shoulder. “I understand, Krish,” she said. “But you have to understand that it’s not right for you to feel this way. I’m your mother. You can’t act on these feelings.” I hung my head in shame. I knew she was right, but I couldn’t help the way I felt. “I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I’ll try to do better.” For the next few days, there was tension between us. My mom avoided me as much as possible, and I felt guilty and ashamed of my actions. I knew that what I did was wrong, and I didn’t want to make things worse between us. Then I tried to control my thoughts, to focus on other things, but my mind always seemed to return to her. I found myself imagining what it would be like to touch her, to feel the warmth of her body against mine. As the lockdown extended, me and my mom spent more time together at home. I found myself increasingly drawn to my mother, constantly admiring her from a distance and imagining all sorts of fantasies. She, on the other hand, tried her best to ignore my advances and maintain a professional distance. Despite my best efforts to keep things under control, I couldn’t help but feel a growing sense of desire whenever she was near. It was becoming harder and harder to resist, and I knew I needed to find a way to deal with it before things got out of hand. One day, as my mom was walking past me, I reached out and touched her arm. It was a brief, innocent gesture, but I felt a jolt of electricity run through my body at the contact. Then I quickly pulled my hand back, feeling guilty and ashamed. My mom turned to me, her eyes questioning. “Krish, what’s going on?” she asked. “Why are you acting so strange?” I took a deep breath and tried to compose myself. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I don’t know what’s gotten into me. It’s just.. this lockdown, being stuck here with you.. It’s been difficult. I’m trying to control myself, but I can’t seem to help the way I feel.” She was taken aback by my confession and felt uncomfortable about the situation. She expressed her concern about the inappropriate nature of my behavior and told me that it was not acceptable to watch her sexually. I, however, tried to reason with my mom, saying, “I find it hard to control my urges,” and that I would rather watch her than indulge in pornography or any other inappropriate behavior. I assured mom that I would keep my distance and not cross any boundaries. She, being a motherly figure to me, tried to understand my situation and empathized with me. She listened to my reasoning and sighed, understanding where I was coming from. “Okay, I see your point,” she said. “But please, try to be respectful and not make me feel uncomfortable.” I nodded, grateful that my mom was willing to compromise. “I understand, and I promise to be respectful. Thank you, Padma,” I said. We both come to an agreement that I would try to control my urges and not watch my mom and that my mom would also try to be more mindful of her actions around me to make me feel more comfortable. Despite the awkwardness of the situation, we both feel relieved that we were able to have an open and honest discussion about the issue and come to a resolution. After she agreed to let me watch her if I kept a respectful distance, I was filled with excitement and desire, as I watched her move around the house. Then I started to observe her closely. Whenever she was doing household chores, I would position myself in a way that gave me the best view. I would watch her from a distance, taking in every detail of her body. I would watch her as she cooked, observing the way her hands moved gracefully over the pots and pans. And I would watch her as she cleaned, admiring the way her body moved with fluid grace. Also, I would watch her as she walked, mesmerized by the way her hips swayed. But as the days went by, my desire to see my mom grew stronger. I started to take bolder steps to get a closer look. I would purposely bump into her in the kitchen, pretending it was an accident, just to get a glimpse of her curves. I would stand behind her, pretending to be interested in what she was doing, just so I could get a closer look at her cleavage. She noticed these actions, but didn’t say anything. She didn’t want to discourage me from staying away from porn and wasting less time on my mobile. But she was becoming increasingly uncomfortable with my behavior. One day, while mom was cooking, I went a step too far. I stood behind her, so close that she could feel my breath on the back of her neck. She turned around to confront me, but I quickly stepped back, pretending to be interested in the food. *** Part 2 is coming soon. In the next part, you will learn how the son tricked his mother to have him watch porn and masturbate.