Mom didn't change her sari even at bedtime. She only took off her blouse & bra and sometimes her petticoat too. In the morning, mom was again fully dressed up. Monima used to put on a housecoat to cover her flimsy nightgown in the morning.
I was as such very fond of these two women, though in a little different ways. Mom was the usual mother, both loving and strict. Monima was more of a friend and I always nursed a desire for her. As they were all the time very close to me, even in that drowsy state my heart grew fonder. During this time, I saw their bodies very closely, that too with much less cover than usual. In that semi-conscious state, proximity to their semi-nude bodies, gave me no arousal. But I just felt nice & comfortable under their love & care.
Both of them treated me like a young kid and in a way, I also behaved like one. They fed me like a child, putting a bib across my neck. They brushed my teeth and washed my mouth with a washbowl placed on my lap. They made me fully naked for changing dress or for bath. When I had to pee, a wide mouthed bottle was brought. My shorts were lowered and my naked cock was carefully held at the mouth of the bottle.
Most problematic situation was when I had to shit. I refused to use a bedpan. I was too weak to walk, but I insisted that I use the toilet. They virtually carried me to the toilet and I shat with one of them standing close by. Even cleaning up was with their help.
Somehow, I never felt shy or uneasy. Both of them also handled the whole thing at ease. I was never left alone in the room. This became a bit problematic when one of them was not present and the other was alone. When mom was alone with me, she left the bathroom door half ajar when she had her bath or used the toilet. I could see a part of the bathroom through the small opening and could feel the movement of her naked body inside. One day I saw, for a split second, her naked thighs and bum. Mom used to come out of the bathroom with the petticoat tied above her breasts. She dressed with her back towards me. I could see her naked back and once in a while a little below her waist.
When monima was alone with me, she used the bathroom with the door wide open. From my bed, I could see the toilet seat directly. The shower area was beyond the line of visibility. At times I saw her sitting on the toilet lifting her nightgown or sari up to her thigh. As she peed I heard the sound of the stream of water whistling out. I heard the same melodious sound when mom peed behind the partly open door. The whistling sound that tingled in my ears was an enigma to me.
I could hear monima singing popular tunes under the shower. After shower, I saw her bare arm pulling out the towel from the towel rack, which was a little away from the shower. I could see part of her back, sides of her armpit, with hair being visible and at times, the hint of the boob. One day, for some reason, she had to come out of the shower. As she went back very quickly, I could have a glance at her naked body for a few seconds only. She used to come out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around her body and I could see her cleavage & partly bare thighs.
Both of them were all the time very worried about my state of health. Most of the time they talked about me, particularly if I would recover early enough for going abroad in time. One day, after lunch, I was put to sleep. Though my eyes were closed, I was not asleep and could overhear some unusual conversation.
Monima said, "Sis, don't you think Ronnie has an awfully large size? Even in it's limp condition, it's so long and thick. It's so much bigger than Khokon's her husband. How big is Bimalda's my dad? " "Didi, lokshyo korechhis Ronnie r ta ki bhison boro? Ghumonto obosthayi ki lomba ar mota. Khokoner ta theke ota onek boro. Bimaldar ta kemon boro?"
"You are so shameless. How can you talk about this?" was mom's embarrassed answer. "Tor mukhe kono kotha atkayna. Eta kono kotha bolar jinish holo?"
As monima coaxed mom, she said, "Yah, Ronnie's one is really big. His dad also has a large one, but Ronnie's one is much longer & thicker." "Hyan, Ronnie r ta sotyi khub boro. Or babar ta o besh boro. Kintu Ronnie r onek beshi lomba ar mota."
"Think about when it becomes hard", monima said. "Puro khara hole kemon lagbe bhabo>"
"Would you stop this discussion?" saying this mom ended the conversation. "Tui ei byapare kotha bola bondho korbi?"
In normal course, I would have been shocked to hear this. But at that time, it created no stir in my mind.
I was as such very fond of these two women, though in a little different ways. Mom was the usual mother, both loving and strict. Monima was more of a friend and I always nursed a desire for her. As they were all the time very close to me, even in that drowsy state my heart grew fonder. During this time, I saw their bodies very closely, that too with much less cover than usual. In that semi-conscious state, proximity to their semi-nude bodies, gave me no arousal. But I just felt nice & comfortable under their love & care.
Both of them treated me like a young kid and in a way, I also behaved like one. They fed me like a child, putting a bib across my neck. They brushed my teeth and washed my mouth with a washbowl placed on my lap. They made me fully naked for changing dress or for bath. When I had to pee, a wide mouthed bottle was brought. My shorts were lowered and my naked cock was carefully held at the mouth of the bottle.
Most problematic situation was when I had to shit. I refused to use a bedpan. I was too weak to walk, but I insisted that I use the toilet. They virtually carried me to the toilet and I shat with one of them standing close by. Even cleaning up was with their help.
Somehow, I never felt shy or uneasy. Both of them also handled the whole thing at ease. I was never left alone in the room. This became a bit problematic when one of them was not present and the other was alone. When mom was alone with me, she left the bathroom door half ajar when she had her bath or used the toilet. I could see a part of the bathroom through the small opening and could feel the movement of her naked body inside. One day I saw, for a split second, her naked thighs and bum. Mom used to come out of the bathroom with the petticoat tied above her breasts. She dressed with her back towards me. I could see her naked back and once in a while a little below her waist.
When monima was alone with me, she used the bathroom with the door wide open. From my bed, I could see the toilet seat directly. The shower area was beyond the line of visibility. At times I saw her sitting on the toilet lifting her nightgown or sari up to her thigh. As she peed I heard the sound of the stream of water whistling out. I heard the same melodious sound when mom peed behind the partly open door. The whistling sound that tingled in my ears was an enigma to me.
I could hear monima singing popular tunes under the shower. After shower, I saw her bare arm pulling out the towel from the towel rack, which was a little away from the shower. I could see part of her back, sides of her armpit, with hair being visible and at times, the hint of the boob. One day, for some reason, she had to come out of the shower. As she went back very quickly, I could have a glance at her naked body for a few seconds only. She used to come out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around her body and I could see her cleavage & partly bare thighs.
Both of them were all the time very worried about my state of health. Most of the time they talked about me, particularly if I would recover early enough for going abroad in time. One day, after lunch, I was put to sleep. Though my eyes were closed, I was not asleep and could overhear some unusual conversation.
Monima said, "Sis, don't you think Ronnie has an awfully large size? Even in it's limp condition, it's so long and thick. It's so much bigger than Khokon's her husband. How big is Bimalda's my dad? " "Didi, lokshyo korechhis Ronnie r ta ki bhison boro? Ghumonto obosthayi ki lomba ar mota. Khokoner ta theke ota onek boro. Bimaldar ta kemon boro?"
"You are so shameless. How can you talk about this?" was mom's embarrassed answer. "Tor mukhe kono kotha atkayna. Eta kono kotha bolar jinish holo?"
As monima coaxed mom, she said, "Yah, Ronnie's one is really big. His dad also has a large one, but Ronnie's one is much longer & thicker." "Hyan, Ronnie r ta sotyi khub boro. Or babar ta o besh boro. Kintu Ronnie r onek beshi lomba ar mota."
"Think about when it becomes hard", monima said. "Puro khara hole kemon lagbe bhabo>"
"Would you stop this discussion?" saying this mom ended the conversation. "Tui ei byapare kotha bola bondho korbi?"
In normal course, I would have been shocked to hear this. But at that time, it created no stir in my mind.
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