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My Best-friend Suresh and I are both 24 now. His mom and dad divorced when he was about 5 as his dad had found love in another woman and had wished to marry her. Suresh he lived with his mom. Growing up without a dad was hard, so Suresh was treated as a family member in my family too. And so was his mother.
Suresh’s mom, Mrs. Seetha Lakshmi Ramakrishnan a single mother ever since I have known her is a sweet lady. She cared for me as her own son and also insisted I call her mom, she felt equally for me and almost did everything she would do for Suresh. I used to call her Seethamma or mom at times.
Suresh was always in my house every day since his mom worked long hours. Mrs. Seetha didn’t mind since or rather she did not have a choice. As Suresh was her only child and she had to work for their good life. In fact, she even stayed in the same house eversince, so that Suresh could have a good support from my family.
Growing up with Suresh I got to see a lot of Seethamma and let me tell you, she aged gracefully. She must be around 49 years old now. She is not what you call beautiful like a Model but she is very attractive with lots of curves. She was an accomplished Bharatanatyam dancer before her marriage and was a prodigy in her younger days. Like most iyer girls she graduated from IIT Madras and was a technical head a leading software firm till her early 40’s. Post that she started her own software consultancy firm and is now its CEO.
Seethamma is about 5 foot 7 inches in height, long black hair, she weighed about 73 kilos. Big beautiful butt 38 inches and large pendulous breasts measuring around 36C. her waist size is 29 and she has lovely brown eyes. She was a perfect hour glass figure and wore shoes of size 8.
And above all she was a brahmacharanam Brahmin born in Arani in Tamil Nadu. A quintessential brahmin women, ethnicity in every sense. The fragrance of turmeric and jasmine was almost synonymous to her. She had long black hair almost touch her lower bum. But she was cosmopolitan in outlook as she had lived all her life in Bangalore.
Seethamma had a membership at the Bangalore club and she would take us there often. To swim, so Suresh and I spent many a day’s swimming back there. she would often come out by the pool and join us, she usually just sunbathed. She always wore a bikini that barely held in her large breasts. She had her friends at high places and was an active part of the Page3 circles in Bangalore.
As the years went by Seethamma always occupied my fantasies, my adolescence was full of fantasies filled with seethamma and few other neighbour aunts. Suresh and me were partners and when it came to his mom I was solo. Finally the year arrived when Suresh and I graduated from Engineering. Suresh went off to higher studies in the US, but I joined work at a leading software firm in Bangalore, and pursued UPSC as it was my dream.
I always took the opportunity to visit Suresh whenever he was down for the summer; I would hang out every day at his house, what Suresh didn’t know was that now I was hanging out with him just to be near Seethamma. I missed being around her.
Anyway, I went over to see Seethamma, and She answered the door. “Hi mom, how are you?”
“Come in Arun, you have been busy off late, you must come more often” Of course I knew that I just wanted to be around her so I pretended like I didn’t know.”
I sat there talking to her for a while. She kept looking strangely at me from top to toe, admiring as I could say. The silence was a bit too much when I said
“Oh man, guess I better go.”
“Don’t be silly Arun come on in, are you hungry? I can make you a quick dosa (a south Indian snack).”
“That sounds great, mom.”
“Sure honey, here sit down.”
I sat down and watched Seethamma make the dosa; she was wearing a nice silken nightie. Whenever she walked by the back door leading out to veranda it became rather see through, and you could make out her underwear and long beautiful legs.
My thought kept running up, the words of Suresh ringing in my ears that his mom was unwell and needed help and there was none around. But I was there, her son – in most ways. He was relieved when I assured him I would take care of her.
She certainly displayed many of the characteristics of Neurosis. For example, she always seemed to be ill and suffering from a variety of things that could never quite be pinned down, or ever got significantly worse (hypochondria). Likewise, much of her behaviour was about controlling her world and ensuring she was always the perceived victim (obsessive behaviour).
My subsequent visits brought us very close, MORE than we were earlier;
However, despite the fact I was never able to provide any apparent solutions to her problems, she made it clear having me around helped her in some way. I would listen to her whinging about the world without complaint, provide a sympathetic shoulder for her to cry on when she was miserable, and if she was really down I had to çiğli escort bear the brunt. I was always there for her and it was clear she needed me in some way, so I could never abandon her, even if at times she was like an emotional vampire sucking me dry.
Looking back, I think I was very confused by the situation. Mostly I felt trapped by a responsibility to look after Seethamma (because in truth there was no one else), and I wanted to escape both that responsibility and her thankless behaviour, but there was another part of me who occasionally ‘enjoyed’ the intimacy of being near her.
I was all of 25 and had normal sexual needs which I ardently acknowledged yet to address. Although I’d seen glimpses of her body, but did not have any kind of inappropriate thoughts, there were moments when I looked more at her than I should, and I think I instinctively saw these opportunities as some kind of shadowy reward for all the anguish she put me through.
As I said it wasn’t conscious. Looking back, I think it may have been something to do with the fact she took sleeping pills for her nerves (and sometimes combined these with a small ‘tipple’ of sherry), making her unsteady in the evening, and less conscious of her attire. Her nightie wasn’t held so tight and I could occasionally see the edge of her bra or the cleavage of her breasts. Sometimes she would lie on the sofa and show an expanse of her uncovered legs and thighs. As I said I never did anything, except maybe look when I should have turned away.
However, things changed between me and her after something occurred that made me question my understanding of her situation. It was a throw-away comment made by the man who came to repair our solar water heater that changed things and set me on a new (and controversial) path.
The poor old man in his fifties I guess, was struggling to fix the old thermal water heater, which kept breaking down. He was trying to explain to Seethamma how we desperately needed a new heater, but she wouldn’t listen, berating him instead for not fixing it properly, and lamenting how the cold water was making her various illnesses so much worse and how it was all his fault.
He got it working, eventually. But warned us it would not last much longer, he hurriedly grabbed his tools, and rushed out to escape Seethamma’s vicious tongue. I paid him and showed him to the door, and as he left he looked at me and raised his eyes to the heavens. “I don’t know how you put up with her,” he half-whispered. “What a neurotic woman! What she needs is a damn good mothering!” And left.”
I confess I didn’t understand at first what he meant by the term ‘mothering’, and it wasn’t until later I realised, he was talking about sex. He was saying she was the way she was because she wasn’t getting enough (or indeed any) sex.
It had never occurred to me before that a lack of a physical relationship might be the cause of her problems, but I suddenly equated all her symptoms with the concept of being frustrated. Could it be, I wondered to myself, that sexual drives are a form of energy that need to be expressed, and if blocked the energy ‘leaks’ out in other (perhaps entirely inappropriate) ways?
As you probably guessed (I am not a virgin), the events I describe took place many years ago, and I was very sexually active (let’s be honest I was a bit lucky for a 24 yr old). But in those days things were very different. I’d had a few girl-friends, Sexual intercourse was a no-no, and even touching a girl’s breast was a privilege a boy had to earn.
That said, I don’t suppose many of the young people today understand just how much joy a couple could experience just by kissing and cuddling all evening. There was a kind of innocent ‘bonding’ in those days entirely absent from many modern relationships. Back then full sex when it came was a ‘rite of passage’.
Anyway, my point is, I knew enough to understand what it meant to be sexually frustrated. I was, after all, pretty frustrated myself! My sex life consisted of snatched moments in the toilet, masturbating to smuggled pictures of women in exotic lingerie, a few moments of bathroom glimpse with my aunts and of course seethamma. And not to mention Varalakshmi the neighbour who off late was showing too much of herself to me. On purpose.
For many days after that engineer’s visit I thought about what he’d said, and what it implied. Since Sureshs’ father had deserted them I’d only seen Seethamma with one other man and that didn’t last very long, I distinctly remember that evening i saw this guy buying a pack on condoms. In those days someone asking for condoms itself was such a new thing, rather strange. I followed this guy and he walked upto a car and to my utter shock it was seethamma’s car, infact I saw seethamma seated inside. All of 16 then, I was introduced to the fact that seethamma had a boyfriend. But I failed to notice if seethamma saw me there.
I wondered to myself why she had not sort to make other foça escort new relationships. Maybe in those days it was hard for an older person to meet new people. So maybe she’d given up, and all that pent-up frustration was coming out in another way?
What followed started out as a sort of personal joke. Whilst considering how I might be able to help Seethamma find a new and more satisfying relationship I suddenly thought to myself, ‘well maybe I should take the initiative… and seduce her myself’. I remember, I laughed out loud. That would solve both our problems, I thought, and I had a momentary vision of holding Seethamma down and having sex with her on the cold kitchen floor. I chuckled again at the idea and immediately dismissed it.
But it didn’t want to go away so easy. That fleeting vision had made me hard, and it was like a seed that once planted grew all by itself, and the idea would never quite banish itself from the periphery of my consciousness. For a while it just festered there, popping up every now and then (usually when I was close to Seethamma for some reason). But slowly I began to look at her differently. I couldn’t help it. She started to seem more attractive… and more desirable.
One Saturday evening while I sat down with my beer, the cool breeze on the terrace and the darkness of the night was blessed with the golden gleams of a deducing moon. the clothes line had some garments drying up. A scan through got me to identify a bra that belonged to seethamma. I took it in my hands. A crazy feeling took over me and I could feel my dick hardening. The night and the surroundings encouraged me to masturbate.
I closed my eyes to come to a climax and the woman in my mind was my own Seethamma, standing there before me in the bathroom dressed only in her underwear. I could see her dark nipples through her bra and her legs creamy white, struck an elegant pose for me.
The image in my mind, although unbidden, was strong and clear and my head fizzed with the power of it. I moaned and shot my load. Desperate and shocked I unconsciously used the bra in my hand to hold the flooding jism from cock. all into one of the bra cups. It was the most amazing orgasm I’d experienced. It was like somebody was clenching my balls very tightly, squeezing out every drop, and aiming my fluid directly at the mental picture of my Seethamma standing there half-naked. Instantly I felt an immense sense of shame and guilt. How could I do such a thing? How could I fantasise about my friends’ mother?
But despite my puritanical objections the guilt faded in a few minutes… and the fantasy grew again. Eventually I found myself exclusively masturbating to visions of undressing and touching my Seethamma. I knew it was wrong, but the power of that particular vision was so strong that when my sexual persona took over there was only one door it wanted to open. My past ran through my current state. Something that happened years ago brought a sense of confidence in me.
But, How my fantasies eventually migrated into a plan to seduce my Seethamma in real life I’m not sure. I think I just woke up one morning and it was there. It was a perfect idea. Having sex with Seethamma would cure her neurosis, it would give her some joy and pleasure in life, and it would show her how much I loved her.
Ok, so there was the side benefits of me getting my rocks off (and fulfilling my fantasies) but I was sure that wasn’t the important part. No, this idea was all about helping my Seethamma through a difficult stage in her life and giving her what she really needed, and if I had to sacrifice my shame and guilt in the process, then so be it.
At least that’s what I told myself at the time (although even then I knew deep down it was really mostly about getting my hands on my Seethamma’s body). What I didn’t see at that stage was the slightly darker motivation underneath the whole idea. I didn’t just want to fuck my Seethamma, I also wanted to own her, like a man.
The only problem, of course, was how to make it happen. As you can imagine I spent a long-time wrestling with that one. I went through all the options I could possibly conceive. I ended up with a long list of possible strategies, all of which I played through in my head (usually when I was masturbating, but sometimes in bed at night).
The truth is I was much too young and far too naive to ever have to courage to try anything like I’d imagined. The ideas were great fantasies and fuelled many masturbation sessions, but they were not in any way practical and I knew they were never going to leave the safety of my mind. That said, all those fantasies eventually affected me and my behaviour, and made something different and slightly darker happen.
In truth my obsession with my Seethamma’s body began to consume me and I couldn’t stop it ‘leaking’ out into the real world. It began with me watching her more intently and looking for chances to see more of her ‘flesh’. I tried to spy on her in izmir escort the hope of seeing something. I’d go unexpectedly into the bathroom when I knew she was there. I even tried looking through the keyhole in her bedroom door right after she’d retired for the night. None of these attempts were particularly successful, but they were indicative of the fact I was becoming more fixated on Seethamma and more excited about the whole idea. I began to masturbate more frequently, and imagine ways to catch her without her clothes.
But it was in the evening time I made my most significant moves. The dark hours just before bed had always been the most sensual, with Seethamma sitting there (or lying on the sofa) half asleep. She’d always looked ‘vulnerable’ but now that vulnerability seemed exciting. The first time anything actually happened was on a Friday night. She’d been out playing bridge with some of her ‘old crony’ friends. Usually in the evening she wore a white linen nightdress under her dressing gown, but if she’d been out she’d often just take off her skirt and top, and then just cover herself with the gown.
I think she must have had a drink or two while she was out but she still took her sleeping pills. The net result was she lay on the sofa and drifted off to sleep. I looked at her laying there snoring gently. Nothing of her body was showing apart from a small gap in the gown revealing her knee and a tiny bit of thigh. I sat there for a long time just staring at that gap. And then I did something I most definitely shouldn’t have done. Slowly and gingerly I moved over to the sofa and knelt down beside her. Convinced she was deeply asleep I gently lifted the edge of her dressing gown up and over.
I rocked back on my heels in awe and fascination. One leg was revealed all the way up to her waist. My eyes travelled up from her knee and thigh and feasted on the white flesh above. My heart was pounding as I studied the way the beauty was unfolding to the top. I had no idea why but it seemed like the most erotic thing I’d ever seen. Then my attention was drawn higher to her white panties and the way they dived inward between her legs making a sharp ‘V’ shape. Immediately above the V of the panties lay a low smooth mound (which in those days I didn’t really understand). It fascinated me and I had a sudden urge to run my fingers over it, and feel its shape and texture.
I didn’t however, and my eyes simply travelled further up over her stomach to the bottom of a barely revealed white bra. For a long time I just looked. I was shaking with a combination of lust, fear, and excitement. Steeling myself I smoothly lifted the gown back further over her breast. It was big but the bra she was wearing made it seem perfectly wrapped. I can’t adequately explain just how much I wanted to wrap my hand around that breast and feel and fondle it.
But then Seethamma stirred in her sleep and I panicked.
I grabbed at her dressing gown, half pulled it over, and scrambled back into my chair. In the event I don’t think Seethamma would have woken up if I hadn’t been so scared and clumsy and noisy. But wake up she did. She turned on to her side and opened her eyes. By then I was back sitting down, but I felt both guilty and fearful and I was sure it showed in my face. She was groggy at first, but then she lifted herself up on one elbow and gave me a strange look. Then she looked down at herself and seeing there was too much of her legs and thighs on show, she pulled her gown back over. I don’t know what I expected to happen next, but after a moment she just lay back down and closed her eyes.
I sat there with my heart racing wondering if the sky was going to fall in. But it didn’t. A few minutes later Seethamma yawned, mumbled something about going to bed and pulled herself up off the sofa. She pulled her gown tight about herself and headed for her bedroom door, but as she went, she glanced back. Her face was blank however and I couldn’t read what she was thinking.
For the next few days I kept my hands, my eyes, and my penis away from anything to do with my Seethamma’s body. She said nothing about that night, but I couldn’t get it out of my head that something had changed between us. She was ever so slightly different. She seemed vague and slightly distant, and yet at the same time not nearly so obnoxious or critical…
The next weekend she went out again and it was like a carbon copy of the previous Friday. She even ended up on the sofa once again fast asleep in her dressing gown. I must admit I sat there for a long time struggling with myself, torn between lust and fear. I wanted to look again at her legs and the flesh above but I was terrified she would wake up and find me leering over her. I just couldn’t make the move I wanted to.
Then something happened to break the spell. Seethamma, who had been lying on her back breathing softly, made a snuffling noise and turned on to her side, but as she did so she moved her left leg out from under the dressing gown revealing itself to me in all its glory. I thanked the Lord under my breath for his generosity and slipped off my chair. I knelt once again in front of the sofa and I lowered my head as much as I dared till my eyes were barely inches from the top of my Seethamma’s now exposed thighs.
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