A Chamar Mother’s True Autobiographical Story – Pa

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A Chamar Mother’s True Autobiographical Story – PadeleteddeleteddeletedWhile Ajit parked his bike.More to follow. Friends, don’t ask me if it is a true story. Don’t read if you don’t like. But let me tell you, it is reality of my life, not some fantasy story. I have dared to cross the social boundary and taboo. This is real. Thanks for your response at [email protected] was tying the belt of my pink nightie with long sleeves, when Ajit opened the door of the hall. He went to his room to change. I told him if he needs he could use Sudarshan’s gown as my husband rarely got up from the bed and his clothes were all in almirah lying useless. I must confess that night when my son donned his father’s bathrobe , I forgot he is my son, for an instant. I imagined my husband standing in front me in his youth and looking at me. I smiled to myself at this thought and felt a distinct feeling which was not the typical mother son feeling but something elevated and retrospective. I asked my son to go check on his father while I will prepare dinner.He came back shortly after to tell me that Sudarshan had taken to bed. Both of us sat down , had a quick dinner and moved to bed. My son was still shying and as he reached my room , he was all red in the face and ears. I knew he was anticipating the last practise session. Tomorrow was amavasya. I asked him to settle on the bed. I told him that we will not rehearse the rituals today as they are meant for that occasion only. But, we shall practise the Kriya of maithuna.I opened the book given to me by the Ojha and spreading in the centre of the bed. It had a few hand made poses with Sanskrit text written below the illustrations. My son read it aloud as the priest had instructed. I joined him in incantation as it had to be recited seven times normally before an intercourse and twenty one times on amavasya. The whole room was reverberating with sounds. Spiritual energy filled me up my heart was seized with devotion each time Aum came out of our mouths.Finally, we bowed to the book after looking at the pose carefully. I kept it aside. I asked my son to remove his clothes now. Once again, he was shying. So I unfolded my nightie and let the belt go before it slid from my back to below my thighs and feet. I stood in lacy pink Victoria Secret panties now with a sheer pink bra on top. I used all these undies since he was a k** but never in froNt of him. I too felt shameful but then I thought of my husband. At the same time, motherly joy erupted in my body when I sensed my agency in his pleasure. I was going to be a vehicle of his pleasure. What more wish can any mother have. I went near him and took off his shirt.As I removed his pyjama , I brushed his underwear. His linga was erect already. I felt happy that tonight he won’t need much stimulation. He looked demurely at me as I removed his underwear. His linga was throbbing now. I saw it’s blue veins carrying my son’s hot blood which had the same DNA as mine. I removed his underwear quickly. I did not remove mine as I wanted to exercise maximum eroticism to get bumper erection from my son. I wished to be sure to lure him so that he actually satiates the goddess. Otherwise, all this was useless. I had taken a big risk.On the one hand, I had staked my chastity to my son while on the other I ran the fear of the sin of i****t. I was a devout and sincere wife with no abnormaL tendencies. Already, I had crossed boundaries. Today was the second day. What if even after amavasya Sambhog , my husband did not recover. But then I thought. Scriptures can’t be false. I immensely believed in them since I was a Brahmin. My father came from the family of priests. That’s why when we eloped, I never went back to my village again. Neither did he ever go back to his. It was only recently when he was unwell that we had to return for some time.I moved my hand to his linga now and rubbed it a bit. I wondered and complemented myself for giving birth to such a massive organ. Once again, I felt my motherly affection gripping my soul and looking at my son’s linga and holding it was like an artist, when he gets recognised for his magnum opus. It was not very big but brownish with a purple pink glans and it throbbed in my hand like a timer ticking to enter my womanhood. I was sure now that he is on fire. He was looking lustily at my breasts which we call chuchy in our local language derived from tankri’s chuchak for nipples. I asked him to remove my bra and panties and lie in the pose mentioned in the book.He took no time in stripping his mother to the ocean of stark nudity. My hair fell on my shoulders and reached up to my breasts. In fact, when I stretch them fully , they cover my chuchies and fall near my belly button without covering it.Then he sat in Padma asana with his erect linga throbbing with i****tual energy. I moved near him and positioned myself to sit on his linga by keeping my legs on the sides of back. I had no difficulty in uniting with my son in this pose. His cock pierced through to my inner recesses as I felt maximum penetration. I was like a big tool invading my uterus like the one the gynecologists use. I felt his hands on my velvety flabby ass cheeks as he held them to adjust his angle.I again shuddered at its reach as it reached into my lower belly now. Suddenly I reflected on God’s unique opportunity given to me in having a part of me back in me again. I felt powerful like goddess Kali who had annihilated his son. I felt like Rati taming him. I felt like the daughter of Brahma who had enticed her father to ejaculation. It fell across the layers of time when I realised that it was flesh uniting with the same flesh, I gave him birth now I take his moral, spiritual,sexual life. It is only just that a mother should take in what she gave out to the world. Why defame this holy process of creation. It is god’s will. Only a few, liberated few, can see the wisdom. And is not that what our ancient texts say. I had taken a huge risk.I was lost in thoughts when I felt that my son had started kneading my breasts. I took my hands to his back as I sat entwined on his lap. I made a Namaskar behind his back with my hands while he stayed dug in my cunt. It was what was depicted in that religious pose in the book. He was to make love to me while I sat on him doing Namaskar. In fact, it stated in Sanskrit that this is the bow to the holy mother who creates everything, from fire and sky to earth and a****ls. The mantra goes as followingMatriBhaga maithuna karishayetEkam Tasya mudra ekah matrirupamKamlaaasna sthit Namaskar ev stanmardyanetMata kumata Bhavanti na dosha vimuchyetWhich can roughly be translated as ‘ only the vagina of one’s own blood mother is capable for sexual Union and she has got only one pose and one gesture. When the son sits in lotus feet position, and he mauls his mother’s breasts , the mother is absolved of all sins and yet she acts as a bad mother or kumata.I mentally recited those lines once again and mouthed the last line twice. I felt enormous strength in those words as I realised their weight which said that even while doing such a dealy sin, a mother stays untarnished. It is only the mother who has been left out of all the sins when it comes to her son. Even while corrupting him, the hymns of these religious texts have kept mother pure and free of sin.With tremendous relief and reminded of my duty towards my husband, I closed my eyes as I made a Namaskar from my hands at his naked back. He had started to gain a rhythm now. His hands were feeling the rotundity of my ripe globes and he shook them on his face in between squeezing them. My eyes were closed as I gyrated on his linga for better access. All my body movements were happening sub-consciously while my mind was rapt in Bhakti chanting again and again rthymically the name of the Lord. I was asking for forgiveness. I knew Shiva was testing me but I had a duty. I was chanting that with all sincerity and felt relieved when I mouthed it a little louder. Hardly had I said it , my son’s hands went down my fleshy buttocks and pushed them up.As I came down, his linga slid with a greater force and at far ends. My son was now humping me as I sat doing Namaskar in his lap. I remembered all my gods, Shiva, Ganesha, Vishnu, Parbati, Kali and Durga and asked for forgiveness. I chanted each god’s been mantra as I bounced up and down in my son’s lap while my hands locked behind his back in the Indian greeting posture. He was getting faster now.I felt his linga stretch my cunt as I went down on him and again when I moved back from him , felt as if a whole baby has been let out of my womb. I squished on güvenilir bahis him again and the big barrel invaded my secret place with greater force. He was pushing himself up too to go the deepest. I felt all this like someone soaping your body. Mentally, I was focusing on the images of Gods and goddesses mating with one another. As he hit me faster with greater force, I imagined kamadeva making love to his mother Rati is fine jewellery with head gear and royal curtains with bands singing to their divine i****tual consummation. I felt them alive in my mind and I changed repeatedly to please them and also asked for their forgiveness. All this while, my son was steadily holding my velvety derrière and shaking it in his lap. His tongue was also flashing like a snake on my globular egg shaped melons.I felt his flickering very pleasant and familiar as if it were a sensation of not long ago. His tongue was fierce at first and then he slowed and kissed them full, bit the areal is a bit, licked them like a dog, ran his tongue all over them before finally settling on them sucking one teeth and staying there like that for some time, which was his favourite c***dhood pose. The bosom of a mother is indeed the most pious thing and sucking a breast , be it while breastfeed or making love, it’s an act of selflessness and also it is an act which gives instant pleasure to the receiver.Since it is meant to benefit the other, it is supreme benevolence and uplift net of spirit. It is charity and charity begins at home. A mother must always be the first to do it. And here, God had blessed me, I was doing to for both my husband and son. What more could a woman ever need as a mother. It was blissful and heavenly. My son now removed his hands from my bottom and asked me to do it.I squirmed with unprecedented delight as I heard his words. It was what precisely I wanted to do. I wished to be the active agent in this pious act of curing my husband. I did not want my son to do any effort too. I knew , he was having sexual pleasure but even I doubted that he thought like me. It was a hoody cause and it was just a matter of chance that he was young and Virgin. I settled on my feet while our coitus remained intact and then I started to bounce to him. I fidgeted for balance at first but when I got my feet right, I took his completely in. I was humping him from the top now and he had drawn himself back a little. As a result, my humongous breasts fell straight over his mouth.As I bounced up and down on his veiny boyish anaconda , my breasts literally slapped his face. When I drew them up a bit, he reached for them with his hands and dragged them back to his mouth. It was like he had been thirsty from centuries and only pitchers of his mother’s milk can quench his i****tual drought. I jumped and my buttocks slapped his thighs. When I moved up from his shaft, a bit of air escaped from my cunt lobes and sounded like a fart sometimes or made a slithery squishy sound. Only with its wet slaps of air , I realised that I was wet down there. How had it happened.I had never even , for a second, been sexual about my son. Was this, then, a. Natural human response. The response of a yoni towards a linga. The water and milk offerings on a shiva linga are in fact symbolic of semen. But he question here was, how can the glands secrete a juice without the mind even ordering it. Can it happen during Bhakti too. I had been meditating and chanting his name. Was this then the supreme collision of the most pious and the most debased act, a human being could perform. I was rethinking all this when my son caught my waist and started banging me.He got faster and in a few strokes , he was holding me like an object pushing it to and fro, up and down. He pulled me to centr with full force. I exerted equal force on his crotch. He wanted to fuse his linga inside my yoni. He did not want even and inch outside. I also felt his pubes entering my vagina and entwine with my pubes. He was really deep inside me and gods knows how and when, I started gyrating my whole groin over his long hard linga.He then , pushed himself a little down and lifted my ass again. He was making me go up and down rather quickly now. I sensed he is building up for an orgasm. I changed to my lord to give him strength to go a mile further. I called out his name earnestly.As I mentally recited the shloka , I felt hot liquid rocketing inside me, filling me up once again after years of barrenness and neglect , Mother Nature filled up with fresh seed. Alas ! He was very quick. I broke the Namaskar pose and fell on bed. Sweat was trickling down from our bodies on the bed sheet. I don’t remember when I fell asleep thinking about virtue and sin, society and culture, morality and taboo.The next day, was going to be a spray of reckoningWhen I got up , my son lay coiled beside me. He was now totally disengaged from my body and had folded his legs perhaps due to morning cold. He was lying with his arms gripped over legs folded making him appear smaller than he is. In fact, I was suddenly made aware as I beheld his full virile youth that his posture was identical to the one in womb. It was a foetal posture that every son makes up in the womb. My son lying in this position was probably symbolic of the new life. It was also the effect of the mantras and i could see a hint. I shook out of my reverie and went to bathroom.After bath and change when I came back with tea, he had left his bed and I heard voices in his father’s bedroom. Sudarshan was having a difficulty in urine discharge these days. So , he needed to be helped otherwise he peed in the bed only. I had changed into my morning flower printed salwar kameez with floral undies inside. He was sighing with uneasiness as I entered inside. The cloth of my green floral suit was a different one and it was more like silk or satin and made a wonderful display of my globular treasures.I had intentionally chosen to wear this provocative dress as it was the final day and I wanted him to stay strong all day for the auspicious night. I am sure my husband didn’t mind me wearing that as he was too much preoccupied in his discomforting sighs making a pose to pee in the container which my son thrust under his buttocks. His brownish black manhood with white pubes came into view squirting yellow piss which filled the room with the stench of ammonia and medicines. Oh my god, how much he had shrunk since his illness.I was moved with a raining pity for him and a tear gathered around my eye. Here was a man, who would not stop having me for a single day, lay dreadfully drained of his majestic love making capabilities. He roared once like a shining knight from spur to plume, a star of the tournament, admist the jungles of my vagina and mauled my tits , brought them alive in his hands and shaped them, nurtured them to the present fullness. Ah ! How my tits wobbled in delight and swung in exhilaration when he slapped and kissed them.In the first five years of marriage only, my breasts had swelled to enormous size by the incessant and merciless mauling , my husband gave them. Even my cunt dripped wet all the time even though he had a cock not like a horse, big and long, but a medium sized cock which was very Indianised. It was brownish black with a nice bulbous head and veins did not show up much when it was erect. His cock was a forbidden thing for me as he was a Chamar and he told me that the Chamars were primarily skinners so it is they who were called for circumcision by Muslim families and his ancestry even had a lineage where they worked began for the king.He told me that he was a true Chamar and hence his cock was black. It was akin to dead Buffaloes skin. Chamars skin Buffaloes hence God gave them a cock like that. But, Sudarshan had a nice cock to be envious of. I had ridden it for hours on end gushing fountains of cum on his thick greasy pubes. My cunt twitched thinking of all this as I bent to give them tea. Ajit took his cup and Sudarshan was trying to pee in the shit pot. I saw his cock in the air and pee squirted out of his head into the pan. I was dumbfounded as my saw my husband’s shrunk tool hanging like a polythene full of wrinkled meat. He had indeed suffered a lot. My eyes once again got moist as I pitied him for this situation. But , there was hope. I was working on it. I was prepared to go the extra mile for you, my love. I wanted you back.I wanted you to romp me for hours together. I cried from my gut as I saw his condition. I wanted to cry but tears didn’t get down my eyes. I again wondered at my condition from being wet at the top and bottom at the same time. My cunt had released türkçe bahis precursor and I had wet my panties while my tears stood at the base of my eyeballs ready to drop. He had finished peeing now. He took the tea cup and sat on his own on the bed. I sat down by his side and we had the morning tea together.After that, we did the normal household chores and soon it was afternoon. After taking lunch, I went to my friend Kamla. She was alone as usual dressed in a gown , she welcomed me at the door. We went to her room and after some time she brought tea. Her house was very beautiful and it had light colours on its walls. I was telling. Her how beautiful the house was when she surprised me by telling that her husband was out of town for two days to collect some gold from Ludhiana. She then offered her home for today’s night for today’s maternal Sadhna.. I thought it would be better if we do it away from the house since Sudarshan lay there and he might hear voices and all. I thanked her for her wonderful suggestion and I told her that I would come after dinner at night putting Sudarshan to bed.I came back home shortly and got to work. Tonight, the agni-pariksha shall take place. Just as the untouched Sita was not burnt by the fire similarly, I was sure that the chastity of motherhood will not be burned by the fire of lust. It was the greatest moral compromise , I had decided to make. It was a kind of risk i had undertaken in the sea of love for my husband and son. I was unsure of what would happen if this supernatural experiment did not work.I had never witnessed a miracle in my life previously but I firmly believed in the Himachali deities. At least, they had given me a hope. Even if I failed, I had committed no sin. My cunt shall drip only of the family cum and i shall remain chaste forever. I am sure that even if a hundred hellfires were burning, i would wade through it unburnt as my love for my son would be pure and not consumed in passion. Let me rot if sexual pleasure pervaded over maternal affection or if even an ounce of my body bathed in the pink of lust. It was as if my breasts were overflowing with maternal tenderness and they need an anchor in my son’s hands. They longed for a pat and squeeze of love and not of carnality. My old baby making body felt so proud when i thought that i could get an erection easily out of my son. I shied to myself in the mind of my minds.I did the kitchen work and made the food ready. It was dinner time now. I asked Ajit to give food to his father while i packed the bag full of special clothes for us, other items needed for the ritual and also those books and colours and oils. When i came back with the bags packed, Sudarshan had already finished the dinner and he was washing his hands in the pan held under him by my son. Ajit took his plate and i cleaned his mouth with a towel and laid him to rest. I told him that we were going nearby at a jagraata or jaagran, a night long festivity of singing songs to goddess, and we will be back in the morning. I kept a phone next to him and asked him to call if he needed us anytime. I then bade him goodbye and switched his light off and moved out of his room. Outside in the hall, my son was waiting for me. I asked him to take me the neighbour jeweller’s wife.Kamla, dressed in a cream nightie, welcomed us and moved us into a big room. I thanked her for this gesture and she wished us all the best. She said that she would not create any disturbance and she left for her room. The room smelt of fresh flowers and the smell of incense filled our nostrils and an outrageous red bedsheet strewn with wonderful flowers rippled across the bed. The curtains were special too with passionate red prints in them. My son looked at me and gave a naughty smile. I did not properly understand it whether it was that of a son, a lover or a lucky star who wins a lottery. i asked him to unpack the bag. I took the book out of it along with other important stuff i had brought.I took out a small jar which was filled of flour paste mixed with saffron. I opened that page of the book which had a detailed tantric design titled Bhaga-yantra. I made a copy of the design on the floor with the paste. I filled up this huge rangoli with different type of flowers and pulses as mentioned in the book. Then, i lit a lamp of buttermilk in the center where all arcs met. I also lit four lamps of oil in the four directions with specific mantras. Kamla had a huge kali statue in the room tastefully decorated and lit. She also had arranged a shiva-linga from the potter and it lay in front of the kali’s nude body. i lit a wick near that too. Then , i asked my son to follow me for the ritual bath as mentioned in the book.I had asked Kamla to procure all necessary ingredients for it. When i went inside, there were two buckets full of colored water with rose,hibiscus and chameli flowers in it. Pots of curd, turmeric paste and mehndi lay on the shelf. I smiled and asked my son to remove his clothes. I gave him a white dhoti to tie on his waist as the holy bath had to be given in the proper attire. It was like a havan-yagna-yagya and it must be done ceremoniously.He wrapped his dhoti around the waist and sat on the wooden stool. I removed my clothes too and i took out my starry red dupatta called as ridaa and covered myself in it. The scripture stated that the mother must give a proper bath to her son before maithuna. The bath must be acted like a prelude to the final lovemaking. The mother must dress up in her wedding dupatta or red cloth, which is a holy cloth used by newly married woman over their head. She should not wear any other cloth. She must dress up her son in dhoti and then begin the procedure.Her whole act must be be centred on raising her son’s libido. She must devise ways to eroticise her son with her hands, her vaksha that is breasts or her mouth. It was written in Sanskrit in the book. The rest was for me to execute. Which I did. I knew I had an obligation to my husband. My son had it too. In fact, it was a double trap for him where on the one hand he had his duty towards his father and felt pity for him , while on the other hand , he had his mother in front of him whom he was going to enjoy and love sexually.Although he was now lusting for me now, but in his mind of minds , he was still battling with his filial love and affection with the newfound gush of blood in the veins of his thick manhood.I picked up the pot containing curd and applied it on my hands and then rubbed it on his chest and white shoulders. He had grown an ample crop of hair on his chest. There were many on his tummy moving in a bushy sequence down to his crotch where lungi loosely hung. Then I picked up turmeric paste and applied all over his hands.After applying them both , I threw scented water on him and washed him. His lungi was now transparent and wet revealing his dark monster inside its wet wrinkled folds . Then I asked him to throw rose water on me. He picked up the bucket and slowly poured over me. I felt a chilling shiver as the water touched my body. The scent filled my nostrils and my wet dupatta now clung to my breasts while my nipples poked out erect from them due to the sudden cold. I could see a twitching movement in his crotch where his organ was pulsating. I then asked him to remove his lungi. I was doing exactly as the book said without any chance of error. He removed it and he sat fully nude now on a wooden patda or stool. His lingam had grown full in size and swayed with the pump of blood in arteries.I took it in my hand and applied turmeric paste and curd over it and then shook it gently while rubbing my herb and mixture, then I poured out the oil Kamala had given me on his lingam. I rubbed hearty amounts of the oil in his lingam. I pulled the foreskin back and massaged the cock head with the red oil. His glans was now shining and I rubbed so much oil that it dripped from the tip of his cock, from the small opening at the end of the glans, fish shaped opening, the eye of the lingam released thick drops to the ground. His lingam pulsated like a wild horse in my hands now. I shook him further and then once again rubbed curd and turmeric on his naked body. After a little erotic play, I gave him a nice bath.When we came out of the bath, I gave him special cloths to wear for the occasion. It was actually the skin of a buffalo stitched along with the skin of a male bull which covered the groin only. In fact, it was a kind of skinned underwear which was stitched and laced with bull skin. I too myself wore the hide of a mirg or leopard as a panty, which is commonly found in our Himachal, and for bra güvenilir bahis siteleri , the book prescribed a net of acacia leaves, which I had strewn beforehand. We were also to wear flowers and garlands on our neck and head. In fact, a Pahari topi was to be worn by both of us, his red and mine green, symbolizing his passion and my Mother Nature aspect, and the cap was covered with red cock and hen feathers. After dressing up, I told him to stand for the prayers in front of the idol of nude goddess Kali whose full black round tits were littered with skulls. I went near the book and taking it in my hands read it to my son. It said,‘On the moonless night of amavasya, when the sun is located in the first house and makes a movement from Mesha rashi ko vrisha rashi, when the Rohini nakshatra or star enters its fourth Charan or phase, and when there shall be mild climate in the month of margasheesha, when the winds are tired of blowing right through the air and need some rest, when all the fish, fowl and flesh want to lie down and reproduce, in that month, on that auspicious night, when the chosen mother mates with her the son from her womb, she shall be blessed by the mother goddess. Kali shall bestow a boon on her who completes the act when the Rohini star moves into the next quarter. It should continue unabated from one Pehar to another. In the middle of this act, the goddess shall take the mother’s place and satiate herself. Only then , her thirst be quenched and she be kind. Her boon is necessary for life and death. If she is made happy, then she can bestow anything, leave aside any sins or illness. Only one should be careful not to offend her. Follow all the scriptural injunction and attain the blessing of the goddess.’I further read another page, which said,‘The mother should lie in the centre of the bhaga-yantra and open her legs where her son must lit a lamp, light up incense and dhoop around her and worship his mother’s vagina with flowers, rice, sweets and sandalwood paste in a platter. The son should recite all the mantras and smear sacred ash in her mother’s genitals. He must worship her body as a goddess and make a proper Arti of her when she sits in the centre of the yantra. The son must take 108 rounds of the circle where his mother lay spread eagled. Then the tantric process of yoni-Khandan shall start where the son and mother should follow their own wisdom to propitiate the mother goddess. Any carelessness of the ritual or incomplete procedures shall invite the wrath of the deity and she shall not be pleased. All these rituals are meant to raise the goddess from the bottomless pit of i****tual hell to the present state of reckoning where she must forgive a transgressor. Let the true divine mother prevail’It also had portions eulogising the supreme beauty of divine mother goddess in strong explicit i****tual terms loaded with overtones of arousal. It read,‘Pay oblations to the mother Kali as she stands there with her bosom bared. Look at her tongue dripping with the blood of all the lingams she has eaten. How her breasts have swollen by the incessant mauling which rakshas, pret and demons have given them. Her nipples are taut and pencil like over her massive mounds shapely as the galgal fruit. They are blacker than the darkest night and the sect nipples guards the twin fortress designed to trap her sons. Her yoni is fiery red too and fire burns inside her vulva.Her eyes are upturned by the sheer ecstasy of love making with her son while she shudders and dances on the burial grounds. Demons and pischachs come and go by her side licking her nipples now and then. They are creatures of the air who slap her chuchies or tits as they pass. They clin to her nipples and she squeals. She is mother goddess Kali and she is ecstatic with sexual and spiritual joy.Look at her, how she grabs their hair and slays them with her fierce trident. She knows no barriers. No only she can mate with her son’s but also slay them at will. It is only by slaying that she grants them the boom of salvation or moksha. Bow to the great mother .’After saying these prayers, it prescribed to chant Om namah Shivaya till the end of the consecrated procedure. I looked at the watch on the ball. It was a few minutes for the auspicious muhurat as per the desi Panchangam.I remembered all my gods and goddesses and recited their name. All my mind and body were rapt in ecstatic joy of Bhakti as though I was standing in front of Ganges in Haridwar about to take a dip. It was a distinct motherly feel,never affectionate and also a wifely fulfillment which comes at the thought of standing tall in times of duty, and I also felt a divine hankering in me when I changed His name. All other feelings were getting drowned in the whirlwind of Bhakti. As a Brahmins, Bhakti comes naturally to us.When I opened my eyes, there stood my son in his black and white underwear with flowers hanging from his body. I looked at him and bent down to pick up the platter containing worshiping material. I took a bit of red sandalwood paste and applied it as a Tilak on his forehead. It was a gesture to make him victorious in this venture. He had a goddess to win over and as his mother, I wished him all the best. I sprinkled bits of rice on him towards four directions so that his path must be unhindered and obstacle free. Then , I threw flowers on him before he bent down and touched my feet taking my blessings.After that , he did the same to me but I was applied a red Tilak on my yoni and chuchies but my arms and forehead and buttocks were smeared with white sandalwood paste. Then , I gave him the sacred ash given to me by the Ojha and he applied it over my genitals by inserting his hand under the leopard panty and acacia leaved bra.He rubbed the ash titillatingly on my breasts and bathed them full in it. He made them very dry smearing them over and again with the sacred white ash. It flew in the air and mixed it’s burnt smell with the smell of incense and sandalwood in the room. Then he cupped them and squeezed them lightly. I felt as if a part in me loosened and my body expressed it by new sensations emanating from the center of my chuchies. He surely was horny now.I looked at the watch and it was time. I walked to lamp lit in the middle of the yantr drawn on ground. As prescribed, i lay down and placed the buttermilk lit diya on my belly button. Then i stretched my legs and raised them by opening them like the petals of the lotus. My thighs swung and my calf muscles swayed as I positioned myself.In matter of seconds, i had raised my legs looking to the corners of nether worlds. My son looked at me in awe and wonder. Then, i told my son to recite the mantras whose meaning i just translated. He moved around me all this while, as i moved on my back too taking help from my hands.I moved on my bare back and natural polka panties while acacia leaves made a wonderful shuffling sound on the floor as if it were the hem of the gown of Mother Nature who walked languidly and seductively across this room enticing his son.I followed him and we did it for 108 times. Then, my son bent near me and started the second step of this holy curative procedure.He took the worship thali or platter and came near his birthplace. He threw some rice on it and rubbed hibiscus flowers on the spotted leopard panty. Then, he started to move the tray in circular motion with both his hands as hindu’s do in front of idols. I had told him all this before.Then he kept the tray in one hand and with the other loosened my dotted leopard panty. The hide had made marks on my tender motherly silky skin though a bit flabby now.He then lifted the Diya up from my deep bellybutton and placed it in front of my crotch. My legs were spread eagled and I was breathing heavy and sweating from physical exertion. The Diya was kept very to my polka panties. I felt the hotness of the wick on the White flabby skin of my inner thighs. The scripture had ordained that this leopard skin panty must be burnt before the act.The hide started to emanate fumes of smokes now. Hairy strands smoked up in the air. The smell of a burning hide of leopard is also considered catalytic for the copula. I felt my cunt area really hot and the hide had caught fire now. My son flicked it to the corner with a flick of his hand. I lay there for a while, burning and emitting smoke. There was nothing near it so it was safe too.Then, as ordained in the holy book, he moved the tray over to my half burnt, ash smeared cave of love with long, uneven, wiry pubes bordering the wedge of my labia, in thick outgrowth. I had not cut my pubes since ages and they were really a big bush.Although, my son had seen my puss the previous night, yet I felt a renewed pang of shame. My pissy pussy blushed and I contracted its lips causing a small earthquake in my bush as I shuddered a bit with the undercurrent of arousal.

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