18-07-2019, 12:31 PM
Mom The Whore
mech007
Running away from home I landed in Bombay. It was Bombay then, not Mumbai, and the city was not stifled of its sexual freedom. Without much money, I ended up as a worker in a restaurant. As you pass under the Sion-Ghatkoper highway bridge at Chembur railway crossing, you could spot the restaurant with its name board in Tamil. Yes, the owner was a Tamil and a nice man too. He gave me only simple works, when he came to know of my education. I just had completed, then, my school finals.
I made friendship there with another boy, who was quite experienced in restaurant as well as other activities. Within a week time, he led me through many shady lanes of Bombay. The city was overflowing with sex: not only the Grant Road and Kamatipura, but also the parks and beaches were, with dusk's cover up, giving way to sex adventurers.
He took me one day to a secret chamber, where they were screening blue films. It was too hot for me to bear with, especially the scenes where matured women having sex with teenaged boys. As soon as we returned back, I entered into the toilet to relieve myself, but the boy who took me to the film pushed open the door before I bolted it and entered in, with me standing within.
- Let me have finished mine first.
- Ok, I go out.
- No need. It'll be over in no time. Stay.
With out any traces of shame or shyness, he pulled out his cock and beat it in my presence. As he said, he did spurt out indeed in no time. And then he told me to do likewise in his presence. I was hesitating. But he moved in, zipped me down and pulled my thing out.
- Ah, what a huge...!
And then without shame, he wrapped his hand around and pumped me. I was simply thrilled by his voluntary service. It reminded me of a similar encounter I had with Uncle Venu, a month back.
*
Uncle Venu took me to a hospital and told me to sit on a bench outside the 'Clinical Lab' and went in. Few minutes later, he came out with a small container and led me into an adjacent toilet and closed in with me. In a hushed up voice he pleaded me.
- Give me your semen sample.
- My semen! What for?
- I'm in a position to prove my old man that I'm capable.
- Of what?
- Of producing a child. I'll fake your semen as mine and fool my dad with the results.
- But...
- No buts. You are my best friend's son. If your father were alive...
He didn't wait further. He squatted in front, pulled my cock out and started pumping it. I was shocked. Nevertheless my cock stretched to its full length in his hand grip.
- What a beauty you have!
He sighed. I could see a light in his eyes and zeal in his action. His face was so close that I could feel his hot breath on my meat. And after a few minutes I felt the boiling in my balls.
- Uncle, I'm cummm...
He connected the container mouth to my cock tip, collected all my seeds, closed the container, opened the door and gone.
*
Now in Bombay, with the boy's hand, it took a little longer for me to ejaculate, but when it happened it happened with a tremendous force, soiling all over his palm.
- What a long time you take! Women you had been with might have praised you, no?
- I never had been with any. Not so far.
- Is it? Be ready then next week. I'll take you to one in Dharavi. She would love to have your size and stamina.
- Won't there be any problem?
- She's not a pro. She does it for her own pleasure.
- How'd you got to her?
- She's my relation.
- Relation! How?
- Don't ask. Eat the bun; not the wrapper. Back home, one day, I was sitting at our backyard door steps; reading my lessons. Anu akka was hanging up her washed wet clothes for drying, on cloth lines in the backyard. Anu akka was a tenant of our house. Her husband was a clerk in a government office. And they had no children. I used to call her akka (elder sister) and her husband uncle. The portion of our house they rented was not so big and they were also allowed to use the guest bathroom, constructed in a corner by the compound wall. She had just emerged out of that bathroom with her wet cloths. And on this particular day, she was in a voile sari, which was wet and clinging to her with neither bra nor petticoat underneath. Her breasts revealed themselves like two papaya fruits; and her buttocks like melons. On crossing back, she stopped by where I was sitting, placed the bucket down and started drying her wet hair with a towel. Only then I noticed her black triangular patch playing a hide and seek through her wet front. Her joggling boobs and peeping triangular patch infused in me an unbearable sexual urge. As if in a trance, I got up but stood unmoved as she turned her gaze on me. My dick had made out a tent on my trousers. She looked down at my crotch, her eyes lingering long on my pulsating bulge. Then she looked this way and that way, moved to me and placed her palm on my fever peak.
mech007
Running away from home I landed in Bombay. It was Bombay then, not Mumbai, and the city was not stifled of its sexual freedom. Without much money, I ended up as a worker in a restaurant. As you pass under the Sion-Ghatkoper highway bridge at Chembur railway crossing, you could spot the restaurant with its name board in Tamil. Yes, the owner was a Tamil and a nice man too. He gave me only simple works, when he came to know of my education. I just had completed, then, my school finals.
I made friendship there with another boy, who was quite experienced in restaurant as well as other activities. Within a week time, he led me through many shady lanes of Bombay. The city was overflowing with sex: not only the Grant Road and Kamatipura, but also the parks and beaches were, with dusk's cover up, giving way to sex adventurers.
He took me one day to a secret chamber, where they were screening blue films. It was too hot for me to bear with, especially the scenes where matured women having sex with teenaged boys. As soon as we returned back, I entered into the toilet to relieve myself, but the boy who took me to the film pushed open the door before I bolted it and entered in, with me standing within.
- Let me have finished mine first.
- Ok, I go out.
- No need. It'll be over in no time. Stay.
With out any traces of shame or shyness, he pulled out his cock and beat it in my presence. As he said, he did spurt out indeed in no time. And then he told me to do likewise in his presence. I was hesitating. But he moved in, zipped me down and pulled my thing out.
- Ah, what a huge...!
And then without shame, he wrapped his hand around and pumped me. I was simply thrilled by his voluntary service. It reminded me of a similar encounter I had with Uncle Venu, a month back.
*
Uncle Venu took me to a hospital and told me to sit on a bench outside the 'Clinical Lab' and went in. Few minutes later, he came out with a small container and led me into an adjacent toilet and closed in with me. In a hushed up voice he pleaded me.
- Give me your semen sample.
- My semen! What for?
- I'm in a position to prove my old man that I'm capable.
- Of what?
- Of producing a child. I'll fake your semen as mine and fool my dad with the results.
- But...
- No buts. You are my best friend's son. If your father were alive...
He didn't wait further. He squatted in front, pulled my cock out and started pumping it. I was shocked. Nevertheless my cock stretched to its full length in his hand grip.
- What a beauty you have!
He sighed. I could see a light in his eyes and zeal in his action. His face was so close that I could feel his hot breath on my meat. And after a few minutes I felt the boiling in my balls.
- Uncle, I'm cummm...
He connected the container mouth to my cock tip, collected all my seeds, closed the container, opened the door and gone.
*
Now in Bombay, with the boy's hand, it took a little longer for me to ejaculate, but when it happened it happened with a tremendous force, soiling all over his palm.
- What a long time you take! Women you had been with might have praised you, no?
- I never had been with any. Not so far.
- Is it? Be ready then next week. I'll take you to one in Dharavi. She would love to have your size and stamina.
- Won't there be any problem?
- She's not a pro. She does it for her own pleasure.
- How'd you got to her?
- She's my relation.
- Relation! How?
- Don't ask. Eat the bun; not the wrapper. Back home, one day, I was sitting at our backyard door steps; reading my lessons. Anu akka was hanging up her washed wet clothes for drying, on cloth lines in the backyard. Anu akka was a tenant of our house. Her husband was a clerk in a government office. And they had no children. I used to call her akka (elder sister) and her husband uncle. The portion of our house they rented was not so big and they were also allowed to use the guest bathroom, constructed in a corner by the compound wall. She had just emerged out of that bathroom with her wet cloths. And on this particular day, she was in a voile sari, which was wet and clinging to her with neither bra nor petticoat underneath. Her breasts revealed themselves like two papaya fruits; and her buttocks like melons. On crossing back, she stopped by where I was sitting, placed the bucket down and started drying her wet hair with a towel. Only then I noticed her black triangular patch playing a hide and seek through her wet front. Her joggling boobs and peeping triangular patch infused in me an unbearable sexual urge. As if in a trance, I got up but stood unmoved as she turned her gaze on me. My dick had made out a tent on my trousers. She looked down at my crotch, her eyes lingering long on my pulsating bulge. Then she looked this way and that way, moved to me and placed her palm on my fever peak.
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