Hello all ISS fans. This is Abhishek Singh, a 18 years old boy from Delhi. I have written many stories in ISS from past one year. But from few weeks I have been quite for some personal reasons. But know there will be some blast from the past by me. Now I will write only insect stories in ISS and I am sure that u will enjoy too much. This story starts from here. Advantages of getting laid on a regular basis became apparent during the first week after my sister and I started sleeping with each other. I no longer had this turmoil inside of me just waiting to be released, because it was being released on a daily basis. I was satiated, sexually, and I was satisfied, both physically and emotionally—as was she. We both were thoroughly happy. There was a bounce in our steps, as my mother would later put it. We, all of a sudden, seemed content in this squalid place called our village. So much so that I even started getting up early in the mornings because I couldn’t wait for the new day to begin. Sex during the first few days was a bit awkward because we were just getting to know each other. We were overzealous, to say the least, and we fumbled and floundered a lot. The awe of each new discovery was accompanied by the clumsiness of not knowing our way around each other’s bodies. But once the lava had fully erupted and we were able to get things out of our systems, we calmed down. Once the rush to do everything at once subsided, we started to focus on a few things at a time. Our communication in bed improved and we started doing things to each other that led to many a wonderful orgasms. We started to really enjoy each other.
We quickly got used to each other’s tastes, aromas, and quirks. I found her to be extremely delicious. I enjoyed being with her in our private moments. I enjoyed holding her in my arms, feeling her breasts against my chest, and I particularly enjoyed being inside of her. There were many times when I would sit in her favorite position with my cock buried in her belly and both of us kissing and caressing each other until the wee hours of the morning. There was never a rush to climax, but once that slow simmering turned into one boiling kettle, it was from the depths of our beings. Each time I came, it was so encompassing that I couldn’t imagine anything better. I felt so thoroughly and deeply moved each time that I couldn’t think of any feelings more beautiful. I couldn’t believe the effects of having an orgasm had on my sister. She was very affectionate before and during sex, but after she had her orgasms, she became a living definition of veneration. The amount of adoration she bestowed upon me was beyond belief. I loved every moment of it and I loved turning her into that special person; not only because once she reached that level, she made sure that I was in heaven, but because I loved the sounds of satisfaction that emanated from her throat and the magical way her body writhed under me as she experienced the release. Many a times she cried because the feelings overwhelmed her to tears. I held her against me even longer than usual on those occasions and the tenderness and caring poured out of our skins and went into the other’s nervous system.
Unknown to the rest of the world, we were a couple and we acted like one. She was my woman, my wife, my soul mate. I was her companion, her man, her husband. We lived together as a couple and we performed our household tasks as a couple. Our mother also lived in that house well, it was our mother’s house to begin with—but she stayed out of our way most of the time because of her times spent with Precious and Chibuku. Whenever she did spend time with us, we reverted back to being her son and daughter, and behaved as such, but as soon as she was out of the way, it was time for our union, for us to express our heartfelt love and desires for each other. My sister liked to have sex as much as if not more than I did. She made sure that all of her chores were done as early as possible so that we could be with each other for maximum period of time. At first, most of that time was spent making love. However, once we overcame our hunger and things became a bit normal, and once we realized that it was real, that we were real, and that we would be with each other for as long as we chose to do so, lovemaking became a continuous activity instead of just plain fuck sessions. We started to focus on prolonging the stimulation and keeping each other aroused for as long as possible, instead of just screwing each other until we were spent. I also became clear-headed.
I no longer spent time thinking about having sex and fantasizing about Precious, my sister, or even my mother. I no longer longed to practice those positions from my dad’s secret book with someone. I was actually doing it with my sister and I was getting my fill. Before I used to sit around the farm and do nothing. The sperm in my body that ached to be released used to incapacitate me to the point of zero productivity. Now that that sperm was flowing out of me on a regular basis, I was no longer incapacitated during the day. My brain started to focus on other things that mattered in life. The most amazing part was that after draining my energies into her, I actually felt more vigorous. So much so that I became very industrious. I actually started to think of my life where it was headed, how it could be improved, and how she and I could have a better future. Unfortunately the village didn’t provide any opportunities for improving our future and we didn’t have the resources to move to a place that did. I was caught between wanting to do a lot and not having anything to do. I was ready to journey but had no destination. She and I discussed the matter quite seriously, but in the end, we came up with nothing. Our lot was to continue our daily life as it was, without changing the status quo. Still, I wasn’t depressed the way I previously used to be after a similar realization. She was there and I found her to be very uplifting in those newfound positions. I started to get ready with her in the mornings and as she left for the convenience store, I went to the farm. Originally the idea was to finish tending to the animals early and come home early. This way she and I could spend even more time together; the bonus being that I would start my day with her and end it within her. As a side effect, my mother saw me spending more time at the farm so she decided to stop going there as she used to. She started nursing her hangovers at home while I was forced to do what she used to do or what was required to be done.
Once I started to do farm related chores, I became aware of our farm. As silly as that sounds, it is the truth. Up until I had to dig my first ditch to drain the rainwater away from our would-be crops, I didn’t really pay attention to what we had. Before I used to see miles of grass and thorn bushes as far as the eyes could see, but once I started to worry about the coming rainy season and how nay, where I was going to plant enough corn to sustain us through the coming year, I realized that there was actually earth underneath the grass and around the bushes; earth that could grow things, different things, not just corn. My sister always battled to get fresh vegetables to sell in the store; heck, I could become her supplier. I could even plant fruit trees and sell the fruit once it ripened. There was a link between the store and this earth and consequently between my sister and me. She and I both could work together for a better future and we could do it independent of each other. I could provide her with whatever she needed to sell and she could sell all that I would provide. I’ll make my profit from the store and she could make her profit from her customers, who were always bitching and moaning about lack of fresh vegetables, fresh fruit, fresh milk, and fresh meat. Heck, this land also had our herd grazing on it; in a way, it could also provide that fresh milk and fresh meat they wanted. I could grow a larger, much larger herd. Not just cows, but sheep and goats and chickens. Shit, I could even start supplying stuff to other villages around us and may be even take it to the nearest cities.
To say that I became excited at my fantasies of a better future would be an understatement. I was excited beyond belief. I was actually aroused at the thoughts of making something out of my life. There was a purpose growing in my brain and the exhilaration it gave me even surpassed the exhilaration of having sex with the sweetest and most delicious woman on this earth. That night, as I held my sister in my arms, my body and mind were in two different places. For once, I wasn’t eager to enter her body; rather I chose to pick her brain; for a while at least, until my euphoria from the daydreaming eventually transferred to my penis, which I then started to transfer into her with slow and steady strokes at first, and with wild and stormy thrusts afterwards as we delved deeper into each other. By the time I finished expending my excitement, she had also caught the bug. She reciprocated my thrusts with equal vigor. The following day, I borrowed a notebook and a couple of pens from the store against future credit from the farm and started to make serious plans. First I explored every corner of the farm to find out how much land we really did have and what kind of shape it was in. I was pleasantly surprised to find that there was enough land to not only grow things the way I wanted, but to host a larger herd of cows and other animals that I wanted to raise. To my dismay, though, most of it was heavily covered with grass, weeds, and thorn bushes. There were, however, a few shallow patches with mostly grass and a few trees scattered here and there. Given enough time and plenty of hard work, I could clear those and get them ready for cultivation before the rains started. Time I had; hard work I was willing to do; rain, however, was unpredictable.
People in this part of the world normally farm around rains. When the rains come, they put the seed into the ground and wait for more rains to water it and to water subsequent plants that grow out of it. There is no other way of irrigating the land and if the rains decide not to show, well, the seed and all the little plants that initially start growing, just die a sad death. The plants that do grow and do survive until the crop can be harvested are poorly maintained. More weed makes it to the end than the useful crop, which in most cases is corn. Whatever corn that comes out of the crop is used to make maeli meal, which in most cases lasts only a few months and people have to find other means of sustenance for the rest of the year. The fact that most people have no manpower to even prepare the land properly, or to seed it thoroughly, only makes the situation worst. Once in a while someone rents a tractor and people plough the fields properly before the rains, but the umpteenth year of draught has nicely put an end to even that. People basically live off of their sons and daughters that have escaped the village or relatives that take pity and send some money or flour their way. My family usually survives at the strength of our convenience store. People buy their milk, groceries, and petrol from us. We even sell clothing and hardware items, but there isn’t much need for things of that sort. As far as farming was concerned, my mother couldn’t do it even if she wanted to, and I couldn’t recall the last time anyone had put some seed into the ground at our farm. My interest in the past had been limited to herding the animals, but now that I was thinking of growing crops out of the land, I couldn’t get past the problem of irrigation. I didn’t want to spend all that time and energy, only to see the crops turn to dust because we had no rains coming our way.
One part of our farm, a little higher place than the rest, had an island of Syringa trees. These trees formed a circular boundary around a fairly large open area. There were some thorn trees mixed in, that usually provided a breeding area for the weaver birds. On one side of that island was a run down barn-like structure that my grandfather or his father had built so many eons ago. My father used to loaf around in that structure during the days when he pretended to work at the farm, and recently it was my mother’s hangout, or shall I say, hangover-out. I usually spent my time on that tree island and avoided the structure. Now, facing a dilemma that could easily crush my dreams of doing something useful, I decided to explore what was inside that large shed, hoping and praying that I would come across something useful that would allow me to make something out of the farm. The least I expected was a plough of some sorts, and some other farming tools; something to shear the grass with, something to uproot the bushes with, a shovel, a pick, an axe, anything. I found some rusted tools with broken handles, some fencing material, a few bricks and a couple of bags of cement that through the years had solidified beyond use. There were a few shells of ploughs and one donkey cart that had seen its heyday many years ago. All these items either required a lot of repair work before I could do anything useful with them or were beyond my knowledge of how to repair them. Because they were all mixed up, I decided to take them out one by one and salvage whatever I could before giving up on the whole endeavor. It took me a week and a half, but I managed to sort things out. I cleaned out the whole barn, repaired whatever I could, and filled all the holes that needed to be filled. I took all useful items to the tree island and threw away what I thought was beyond redemption. When I was done, I had a nice barn area available to me, I had tools with new handles, and sharpened to almost their original sharpness, I had a donkey cart that needed only new wheels, and three ploughs that needed new heads.
The best item that I discovered while cleaning up was a diesel driven generator that only had one belt missing, but otherwise was in good condition. A gift from my father, I assumed, from his endless nights of gambling and probably the only things he didn’t want to gamble away because it would have put an end to the very act of gambling. That generator gave me an idea that could solve my irrigation problem. We had a borehole at home that provided enough water to bathe in and to use it for various household usages, including watering our flowerbeds and small trees around the yard and feeding the toilets that flushed into the septic tank. That borehole required electricity to run, but there was no way to get electricity to our farm without paying a huge sum of money that we didn’t have. This generator could power a similar, or bigger, borehole. Maybe, just maybe, I thought with held breath, that’s why my father acquired the generator in the first place to power a borehole that he probably wanted to put in this land. The thought started to take shape in my head as I imagined my father lying on that foldaway bed I had found as he daydreamt of better days, just like me, with his companion carton of Chibuku or a bottle of some other poison. It was ironic that the very reason that had split my parents up, was then adopted by my mother so wholly. If I could only setup a nice little borehole to supplement the rain water, I would have a good chance of succeeding in my plans. I even discovered an area, where I could, with a little work, trap the rain water and use it to irrigate some additional land.
I discussed with my sister what I wanted to do and she wholeheartedly approved. She even told me that she had a small sum of cash in case I needed an injection into my ventures. After all, if things worked out the way I was planning, it was going to be good for both of us. I didn’t want to use her money, though, so I made my own plans. I looked to my own cash cow, well, more like cash cows, to fund my purchases. I started to sell the herd one animal at a time as I needed the money. I didn’t get as much for them as a seasoned farmer would have gotten, but I was learning and that was the price I had to pay for my knowledge. I first mended the fence and moved on to buying a new plough, fixing the cart, buying a donkey to pull both, getting the generator fixed and putting in a reasonable sized borehole. I even put up a fence around the trees to keep the herd in close range. Just that act alone gave me a few hours of extra time that I could spend on farming. I cleared the bushes and grass, ploughed the land that I had cleared, and prepared it for planting. There was plenty of fertilizer now that the animals were confined to a smaller, more manageable area. The borehole worked its magic and when the first rains came, I already had a nice field of corn growing in one part of the farm, with additional fields ready to be seeded. My sister came to see the fruit of my hard work and was quite excited from seeing the results. But, no one, and I mean no one was more excited than my mother when she laid her eyes on that lush, green, mouth-watering field of corn. I had even started growing small patches of vegetables and spices that my sister and I planned to sell at the store, not to mention various fruit, flower, and other trees that we could use to make additional money.
When the rains came, my mother came to the farm to do what she normally did in the past. I knew she was coming, so instead of working hard as it had become my routine, I just sat around lazily, waiting for her. She noticed the changes immediately, but didn’t comment on anything. She didn’t know that the herd was smaller now because I had let the animals loose so they could feed in areas away from the crop that I was growing. After she finished giving me a tongue lashing for just sitting around like a lug, I took her to the area where the corn was in full bloom. Her eyes popped out of their sockets. I had more crop growing than she had ever managed to plant in recent memory and I had a lot of land still left to be seeded. She was very excited as she repeated, “I can’t believe my eyes”, over and over. She screamed when she saw the borehole providing a small, but steady stream of water. She rushed me and gave me this one giant hug, as she said, “Finally, a man with brains in my family.” She then rushed through the field, feeling the leaves, touching the stalks, basically reveling in her excitement. When she came back, she gave me another hug and kissed me hard. She said, “Son, I have been praying for a man to come and make something out of this land. I didn’t know that I actually had to give birth to such a man before I would see the day my dream is realized.” I was overwhelmed, to say the least. I had been working hard and the progress that she saw during her visit had come steadily for me, so it didn’t have the same impact, or rather I had taken it for granted. But to her, the transformation of the land was miraculous. Not only that, but the rains had just started and together we could double, even triple, the amount of corn we could grow compared to the one that was already growing.
She hugged me repeatedly as I showed her around and introduced her to my plan. She was a bit upset when I showed her the remaining cows, but she perked up when she saw the donkey, the cart, the plough, and all the other tools that I had accumulated. She kissed me hard again when she saw the transformation of the rundown shed into a nice and cozy barn. Her foldaway bed that she used to nurse her hangovers upon was nicely tucked away in a corner and ready to be used if she so desired. I had established a clean area around it for her, or for me for that matter, and I had put a few personal amenities to establish a place to stay for an extended period of time, in case the rains came down hard and I had to spend time at the farm to keep an eye on the herd. She pulled the bed to the centre of that area, unfolded it and sat facing the window. She asked me to come and sit with her, and when I did, she put her arm around me and leaned her head on my shoulder as she gazed out with her excitement fully showing in her face. When I looked at her and felt the strength with which she was squeezing me, something dawned on me. It occurred to me that my mother was going through the realization that her boy had grown and become a man. It also occurred to me that I had two, not one, women in my life.
My mother’s excitement stayed with her as she helped me gather the animals and put them into their area. It stayed with her as we worked together on the farm for the rest of the day and it was with her when we put everything in order and prepared to leave the farm for the evening. It was with her even when we came home. My sister was surprised to see me walking in with my mother, who was unbelievably giddy, and she was even more surprised when my mother passed up on going to Precious and stayed with us, talking, chattering, telling my sister about the miracle I had performed, and how proud she was of me. We impatiently waited for her to fall asleep and when she did, I took my sister with more passion and excitement than usual. My sister was really surprised at that and I told her simply that mom’s excitement had rubbed off on me and had transformed me into a more energetic person. She appreciated it and even joked that the next morning she’ll thank mom for the pleasure she was receiving. She was happy to see mom in such high spirits, after almost a decade of gloom.
I was more energetic, or more passionate, for another reason. When I kissed my sister, I still had the feelings of my mother’s kisses on my lips. My mom didn’t realize it in her enthusiasm that she was kissing me full on the mouth. While she was yelling and screaming to vocalize her excitement, her mouth did open enough to make it a wet kiss. I had tasted her saliva, not to mention that I had also felt her breasts on my arms and on my chest. So far I had been only with one woman that being my sister, so I didn’t know how it would affect me if another woman came into some sort of intimate contact with me. From being in a semi-intimate contact with my mother, I knew that the affect was exhilarating. I was aroused by my mother’s hugs and kisses and I spent that arousal on my sister. My mother had, unknowingly, contributed to a more passionate lovemaking between my sister and I. I found that to be fascinating, and also I found that to be the one thing I couldn’t share with my sister. I was awake way after she had fallen asleep and I kept thinking about my mother’s hugs and kisses even after I had depleted myself so thoroughly inside my sister. I was perplexed at the way I felt aroused by my mother and how it had made me feel even strongly towards and for my sister. I couldn’t help but wonder about the differences in the two bodies. My mom had a stronger and bigger build than my sister and her breasts were larger and softer, her hips were wider and her waist was thicker. In all proportions, my sister was petite compared to my mom and that made a big difference in the feelings I received from each. There were similarities, but there were also huge differences. It wasn’t that I wanted my mom more than my sister, or that I wanted her at all.
There were no thoughts of actually having sex with her. It was just that the feel of her breasts had made me warm all over and that warmth had transferred to my loins in ways that it had never done before. Even though it was her hugs and kisses that made me feel horny, for lack of a better word, I wasn’t horny after her. I still wanted my sister, and only her. There was one flash where I wondered for a second about my mother’s excitement. She was so jumpy, passionate, and expressive when she was excited over the farm, I wondered how she would be if she was excited the other way. Would she be as jumpy, passionate, and expressive if she was sexually excited? Once that thought flashed in mind, I quickly looked at my sister sleeping next to me and I felt guilty as if she knew what I was thinking and I wasn’t supposed to be thinking things like that because of her being my woman. I felt like I had to reassure her of my loyalty. My sister was really surprised when I woke her up and fucked her again with abandon. There was a look of apprehension on her face that I didn’t understand, but then I didn’t care. I was making a point and for the first time in our relationship, I wanted to fuck her more for myself than for her and as soon as I came, I was finished. I could feel in her body language that she was puzzled, but I had to get some sleep before starting the next day. To my utter surprise, my mother joined me the next day soon after I reached the farm and started working with me to cultivate and seed the land, feed the animals, and water the crops already in bloom. I had never seen my mother work as hard as she did that day, or during the days that were to follow. As we sat relaxing on one small hill, looking down at the work we had finished for that day, she patted my arm and said, “Son, I want to congratulate you at turning this land, and hopefully this family, around.”
“You are welcome, mom,” I said, as I hoped for her to hug or kiss the way she had done the previous day. She held herself in check that day. The downside of my mother working at the farm was that she didn’t have the time to relieve my sister from the store and we had no dinner waiting for us that evening. My mother quickly took a bath in the water from the house borehole and made supper for all of us. That was another surprise for my sister, who had given up on mother taking any interest in household chores. My mom was tired from a hard days work and fell asleep quickly. I told my sister that there was another person who must have been really surprised at the transformation my mother had gone through: Precious. She must be wondering that my mother was probably sick or something as she didn’t visit her now for two days in a row. My sister and I made love with a rather subdued mood. She was feeling upset at the extra time she had to spend in the store and the less time that we had together. As I held her, I firmly told her that I didn’t like her to be feeling that way. This was another change that we just had to get used to and adjust ourselves accordingly. She apparently followed my command as her kisses became more enthusiastic after that. By the time she fell asleep, she was feeling herself again. My mother woke up earlier than all of us the next morning and knocked on my door to wake me up. My sister was curled up next to me in my bed. I panicked thinking that my mother was coming inside and she was going to catch us red-handed. I shook my sister awake and told her to rush out as soon as the coast was clear. We escaped that day and I told her that we had to be more careful in the future. Yet another adjustment we had to make in our normal routine.
About a week later, as we sat on the same hill, admiring our handiwork, I decided to put my arm around my mom. She put her head on my shoulder and I squeezed hers as a sign of my appreciation for her help with the farm. It was not the same hug that I wanted to experience again, but it was better than nothing. I didn’t realize it then, but that small gesture from me opened my mother up to becoming a bit more affectionate towards me, a bit more touchy-feely than in the past. It almost became a ritual with us that at the end of each day we would sit next to each other, her head on my shoulder, my arm around her shoulders, and a caress here and a squeeze there. At times she even put her arm around my waist for added support. My sister and I didn’t have as many opportunities available to us for being together where we could make love as much as we wanted. We had to settle for quickies, which usually meant that I would go in and come quickly, while she didn’t quite get a chance to finish. At times, we just kissed and cuddled and didn’t even get started with love making because we had to go to sleep so we could wake up on time the next day. Our relationship started to suffer as a result. It was very unfulfilling to have only hurried intimacy. We couldn’t say all that we wanted to say or do all that we wanted to do. I couldn’t share with her the details of my day or report to her the progress I was making in as much detail as I used to. Our lovemaking had less and less foreplay and therefore less and less affection. Well, the affection was still there, it only felt like it was less because we could not have each other as thoroughly as we used to. In this case, reduced quantity also lessened the quality. I could see in her face and in her body the disappointment and even anger over this reduction in our time together. Because it wasn’t really my fault, I didn’t take it kindly to her disappointment. It wasn’t for lack of wanting that we weren’t together as much and as often as before; as a matter of fact I wanted her a lot more now than I did before. It was just that there wasn’t any time available to show her how much I really wanted her. I also didn’t like the fact that I was working so hard to make a better future and she was turning our lack of time into a void between the two of us. But, a void we had that seemed to be growing wider almost daily.
It took a while before I realized that I was actually filling that void by channeling my energies into becoming a bit more adventurous with my mother. I was spending less time with my sister but I was never alone. If I didn’t have her around me, I at least had my mother around me. If one woman in my life was becoming distant, the other was always within reach. I used to look at my sister’s body with admiration. I soon found myself looking at my mother’s body and the admiration just transferred to her. I actually found her to be quite sexy and attractive. Funny, she had always been there, but I never quite saw her the way I was starting to see her now. Even when I used to fantasize about the positions, I still never saw her to be as voluptuous and tantalizing as she seemed now. Unconsciously, I replaced my sister in my thoughts with my mother. Soon, whenever my sister and I got together, I actually felt guilty because I felt this strange and odd sense of loyalty to my partner, my mother. Needless to say, even those encounters soon disappeared. I was lost. The woman I had, went away, and the woman that was around, wasn’t really mine to be had. It was one of those depressing and lonely days when I stood on that hill looking at the corn that was now loaded with corn ears and felt a little pain at the thought that my sister and I couldn’t even rejoice together at the fruition of our crop. I longed for those days when she and I enjoyed our sexual life to the fullest. Suddenly I felt an arm wrap around my waist as my mother pressed her side into me and said, “Look at all that, son. The fruits of your labor.”
I unfolded my hands from my chest and wrapped my left arm around her shoulders. I could feel her press into me a little more in response to my gesture. Her right breast was on my ribcage. The softness was a welcome feeling and I said to her, “The fruits of OUR labor mom.” She was a bit awkward in her stance so she turned a little towards me. She actually hugged me, gently, ever so gently. Her both breasts were now touching my side. I held her tenderly as she just gazed down on the green fields. She must have known that I was down, but she was smart enough to keep quiet and just stood with me like that for a long while, until I decided to move. She showed such maturity and tenderness that I was moved. Once we made such a contact, it became easier to make the same contact the next time. I would just stand every evening, a bit depressed, and she would put her arm around my waist. I would then wrap my arm around her shoulders, to which she would reply by moving into me and pressing herself into my side. After a week or so, we became so used to it that it became a routine. We settled into the routine so much that when I decided to be a little more aggressive by putting my arm around her waist and pulling her in front of me, she moved in front of me. I then put my other arm around her waist from the other side, locked my hands together and held her like that. She placed her hands on my hands and arched her back a little so her shoulders leaned against my chest. The rest of her body was away from me. I held her like that, with my hands on her belly, for about a minute and then released her, saying that we better go, it was getting dark. Whether she knew it or not, whether she realized it or not, I had actually made an advance on her and she had acquiesced.
I made the same advance every day for many days after that with the same results. I held her with my arms around her waist, my hands locked and resting on her belly, her back arched a little and her shoulders pressed into my chest. Her head would normally rest on my left shoulder and I could feel her long hair on my cheeks, but that contact was also fairly casual. Slowly and steadily, the distance between her back and my front started to decrease, until one day I could hold her in my arms with my front touching her back, sometimes even her butt softly touching my thighs. My mom and I worked side by side to tend to the animals, to weed the crops, to spread the manure, to water the fields, to guide the rain water where it needed to go, and to basically run the farm from edge to edge. We even helped each other deliver our first calf as the herd started to grow back and milk the cow as the mother started to feed the baby less and less. The milk was only enough for us, so we didn’t think of selling it. She and I were now working like a couple. She was my woman and I was her man, at least in my mind. We tended to each other’s injuries as farming life is harsh enough to bring a few. We even helped relieve the pain out of each other’s muscles by massaging them whenever necessary. All that of course, increased our intimacy to such a point that if once in a while we made a contact that would otherwise be considered inappropriate, we just ignored it and went on with our work.
I didn’t realize how free we had become until one day as I went into the field where the corn stalks were now drying out and the corn crop was coming to full maturity, almost ready for harvesting, I decided to lie in the middle of the field to basically revel in the feelings of success. She followed me there after I had disappeared for a long while and took a place next to me in the field. We lay there side by side for a long time, discussing our plans for harvesting, for storing, and for selling the crop. We must have been there on the ground for a good couple of hours and in that time our tossing and turning thoroughly messed our clothes and hair in the back. Once we decided to get up and do other things and she saw the way my back was covered in dust and dry leaves, she started to clear it off. She took quite a while to remove all traces from my hair, shirt, and jeans. It involved rubbing my buttocks off as well which she did without slightest of hesitation. Her hands on my ass felt quite nice and I felt some movement in my briefs. Once she was done, she turned her back to me and said, “Now, your turn. Make sure you do a nice job. I don’t want anyone to think that we were busy with each other in the field.”
That comment, made so innocently and without any thought to its implications, made my heart jump. First of all it brought to my mind the image of my mother on the floor of that field and me on top of her, messing up her back and hair, so to speak. I pictured myself pumping into my mother hard as her body slid around or thrashed around in response to my thrusts. Those thoughts sent currents to my already moving penis and I felt it harden quickly. More currents followed as my hands worked on her back, her hair, her legs, and eventually her ass. My hands were literally trembling as I rubbed her soft buttocks and removed traces of dust from them. I enjoyed the feel of her behind and I took advantage of the situation by caressing, instead of rubbing, the area between her cheeks. I had to kneel down to get myself low enough to see what I had to remove. In a way, it was good because I could conceal my erection between my thighs. But when she found me spending so much care on her butt, she looked over her shoulder to see what I was doing. I quickly finished the task and when I was done, she turned around and offered me her hand to help me get up. I didn’t want to because I was hosting such a massive hard-on, but I had to because I had no reason to stay down. She may or may not have seen my erection but she realized there was a lot of dust on my knees. She bent down to dust them off and in doing so, brought her head on level with my erection. Once she was done and she looked up towards me to give me a nice smile, her smile froze on her lips as her eyes focused on the contours of my rock hard cock throbbing through the thick material of my jeans.
I could see her face turn white as she turned away from me in a hurry. She moved out of the field and then away from me rather quickly. I couldn’t tell if she was flustered, but I did notice her averting her eyes away from me whenever I came around to wherever she was busy. The proof that something was different about her came when she didn’t even come to the hill that evening for our usual surveying of the fields. As a matter of fact, our surveying stopped completely. We worked together, but there was certainly something different in our, or rather her, attitude. I couldn’t understand the reason; after all, she must have known I have a penis. Why did my erection make such a big difference in her behavior? It took for a heavy down pour to get me the answer to that question. As is customary, once in a while, the sky breaks loose and we get bombarded by rains so heavy that one can’t move around. It was one such rain and we both got caught in it. By the time she and I finished moving the animals to safety and made it to our barn, we were completely drenched and our clothes were full of mud and cow dung. We had no choice but to take them off, wash them in the rain, and dry them by the fire that I quickly built from the firewood I had stocked up for just such an occasion. I had grabbed some corn from the field to roast so we had something to eat. She covered herself in the blanket from her foldaway bed, as I used the bed sheet to cover myself. As I dried the clothes and prepared the corn, I saw her move to the window and peer outside. She stood their looking out for quite a long time. There was something in her demeanor that told me that she wasn’t just looking outside but was looking far away towards another time. I brought the corn to her and stood behind her trying to see whatever she was seeing. We stood there for a while, quietly, nibbling on the corn, when after a long time she broke the silence. She mumbled, “I love this kind of rain.”
I couldn’t understand her reasons, because the rain was basically wreaking havoc and flooding our fields. She spoke again, softly, “The way it is pouring down, we are practically cut off from the rest of the world. It is so peaceful, knowing that you are all alone; no one can come to disturb you, or to know what you are up to. It is just you and no one else.” She was talking more to herself than to me because her sentences did not include a reference to me. “I have always wanted to be in a thunderstorm like this one. I have always wished for such storm to last a few days so I can enjoy the aloneness it brings. Imagine no one knows where you are or what has happened to you. Complete anonymity for the duration of this storm.” I just listened and I tried to think what she was saying. True, we were cut off from the world, but the world was only a few kilometers away. I mean, if someone wanted to find us, he or she could. With that, my sister came to mind. She knew that whenever a storm like this comes, we usually stay put, so I wasn’t worried that she would be worried. But, I thought of her alone in the house and really lonely. A sudden pain came from my heart and spread through my body. My mother was quiet and looking out as before, with complete concentration. She didn’t notice my arms reaching around her waist until I had closed them around her and locked them on her belly, liked I used to on that hill outside. She leaned back into me and I held her against me like that for a while. She was still wrapped in that blanket. The deafening silence of the deafening storm, if one can imagine such, transported us to another place altogether. I held her in my arms as we stood there enjoying being so cut off from the world, just the two of us, alone, together, with each other. She was my mother and I was her son, but that was in our barn. In this new place, it wasn’t a son holding his mother; it was a young man holding his partner. She was a woman with romantic thoughts of a storm lashing outside; I was a man with a storm pouring on his inside. The fire had died down a long time ago and the lightening had subsided to negligible strikes. We were standing in the dark with our bodies pressed together on either side of the blanket.
It was automatic as I put my left hand around her front and placed it on her right shoulder. Then gently, ever so gently, I turned her around to face me. It was also automatic that when she turned, the blanket slipped off of her and fell on the floor next to the sheet that had already slipped off of me. I held her hands and brought them to my shoulders. She placed them around my neck as my arms slipped around her waist and she melted into me. I held her against me like that for what seemed like hours. Her big breasts firmly pressed into my big chest, our bellies lined against each other muscle to muscle, our pubic hair getting tangled, and my erect penis firmly pressed between her thighs. As she put her hands into my hair and held them hard, I lowered mine to her buttocks and started to caress her behind. She raised herself a little higher so I could reach a little lower as she brought her mouth closer to mine. First our lips met, then our lips entangled, then our tongues met, and then our tongues entwined. That kiss was a beautiful kiss. The experience I had gained and the experience she possessed, culminated in a kiss for the ages. It was sweet, it was delicious, and above all it was intoxicating. I mean literally intoxicating. I felt myself getting high on my mother’s kisses.
Once she had her fill and she paused to take a break from our smooching, I moved lower and held my face between her breasts. They were huge and extremely soft. I kissed them all over and I took those nourishing nipples of hers in my mouth one by one as I sucked on them hard while squeezing each breast in both of my hands. Her hands were running all over my body as she tried to hold her chest in my face. I proceeded down to her stomach, pubes and then found my way down to the source of that other nourishing nectar of hers. I had to kneel in front of her so I could properly place my tongue on her clit. As her soft knob came in contact with my soft appendage, she grabbed my head in both of her hands, held my hair tightly, and started to thrust her pussy onto my mouth. I placed my lower teeth behind my tongue as I tried to give it more force so that each thrust resulted in a lot of pressure on her clit. She was grunting with each thrust as I held my pose without hurting my tongue. He grunts became louder and louder until she just couldn’t take it any longer and dragged me to the foldaway bed. She fell on it backwards and quickly positioned herself on the bed while dragging me between her legs. She didn’t let go of my hair until I was positioned cock to pussy and then she reached between us, grabbed my dick in her hand, and pushed it into her cunt. She had a storm of her own pouring inside her because she was wetter than the fields outside and my donkey of an erection ploughed through that mother earth almost the instant it touched her lips. She then grabbed my buttocks and started to help me plunge in and out of her as her sounds came from deep within her to tell me how close she was to overflowing the dam.
When she came, she came hard. She was actually thrusting upward, lifting me high into the air as her inside walls gave way, and her orgasm flowed onto my shaft. Her orgasm was much stronger than any of my sister’s had ever been and it also lasted longer. In another change from my sister, she actually came before I did and once she was calm and cool, I actually enjoyed fucking my mother because I paced myself to my body’s signals and not hers. When I did come, eventually, she wrapped her legs around my hips, and squeezed her pussy muscles to milk every drop out of me and into her. She held me inside of her much longer than I had ever spent in my sister after coming inside her. Again, my mother’s experience came to benefit me because this session wasn’t me fucking my woman, my woman was actually fucking me and I liked being fucked. My sister let me do her, while my mother was doing me. She also knew how to revive me much more quickly than my sister. So, within much shorter period than I was used to, I was hard again. In another reversal of things, she mounted me and soon I was being fucked again. That night was a night of discoveries for me. I found out that my mother’s behavior had changed because that look on my erection had transformed me in her eyes into a virile bull that was ready to mount his own mother and the analogy was very exciting for her, only the act required special circumstances. She knew she wanted me from the moment she laid her eyes on the ridge pushing through my jeans. I was the first healthy cock she had seen in a long while and she couldn’t help but want it, and want it bad she did, so bad that she had to stay away from me to contain herself. I also found out that my mother loved the taste of my pre-cum.
She enjoyed drinking from the source and when the source was exhausted, she replenished it again with her own juices. She also knew how to give head properly. She showed me how mind blowing a good blow job can be. The other thing I found out about her was that she liked to be in charge and that made it easy for me. I didn’t have to guess what stage she was at. She took herself to every stage and she made sure that she got what she wanted out of our intercourse, while dishing plenty out for me as well. Of course, then there was the discovery of a big pussy versus a tight one. That one, I am still debating to this day. Sorry readers! The story is not real. Author’s message to all the readers. I Abhishek Singh am a call boy. I used to give services in the areas of I.P.EXT, mayur vihar phase-1 and 2, Shakarpur, Laxmi nagar, west Vinod nagar, mandawali, and all the places near by them. I am not to smart nor too handsome. But the thing which I have is my style and my attitude to fuck the girls and too pleasure out them. I guarantee their satisfaction and secrecy for 100%. My charge is Rs.180/- for one hour of one female. If you are interested then contact me at my email address at [email protected]. For orkut users my email address is [email protected]. So add me on orkut and enjoy your life because life fucks everyone.