Incest Bengali Mom Becomes A Whore

[vault]

Bengali Mom Becomes A Whore by khanzeeshan
All credit to original author.


I am a guy living in Mumbai, we moved here when we were very young. This story is about my mother, and for better or for worse I felt like sharing it. She got married when she was very young and had me when she was 19.

Now that I am 18 myself she is 37 years old and is still a typical Bengali bombshell. We moved here in search of better opportunities, and it was good for a few years until my dad became an alcoholic. After that, he contributed little to the household.

My childhood was not spent in abject poverty but things were generally hard to come by. In due time, however, situations improved. Where we lived was not a slum, but it wasn’t much better. My mom always got looks and catcalls when she went out, I used to get angry but eventually realized that pushing back was futile.

My mom used to handle it splendidly. She knew well how to diffuse a situation.

At school and college, I was a loner. I wasn’t good at sports or studies! Typical mediocrity. I had few friends, and most of them were pretty superficial. They were friends who would not invite me for an activity but if I was in the vicinity they would not mind making me a part of it.

That went on until one day, a guy called Mushtaq befriended me. He was a bit old to be studying alongside me but that didn’t bother me. I’d put his age at around 20 although he claimed he was 18. I had great fun with him, and it wasn’t long before he had become a regular visitor to my house.

I heard that his dad was the local bigwig/goon whichever way you like to view it. He always had cash, and he was not a stingy person. He spent liberally on himself, and his friends including me. The first time he came to my place, my mother seemed quite startled.

I believed at the time that it was because I introduced so few people to her as friends. He introduced himself, and she reciprocated. Him coming and going became a regular feature. I wasn’t blind however, he and many of my friends in his circle had complimented my mom in front of me.

Some compliments were very explicit. They also told me about how hot she was. Although it seems counter-intuitive, I stopped getting angry after the first few times. They were my only friends, you couldn’t stay mad at them for long. I used to visit his place too, and his mom and dad were always good to me. His mom was a bit conservative though.

As days went on, his interactions with my mom became more and more touchy-feely. I felt the terms of the relationship changed when one day he asked my mom whether he could call her by the first name.
“Can I call you Ishani? Anirudh (me) won’t mind, it’s just that you are too young to be called aunty!”

“You can call me whatever you like dear!” My mom told him, smiling coyly.

Since then he used to be quite bold with her. It built up slowly, but surely. Slowly enough to not attract any malice from me, but quickly enough to make me realize that something was up. I guess I was an idiot because I just refused to see it.

He and 4 of his friends used to frequent my place during cricket matches. “Why don’t you come sit with us Ishani,” he used to invite her to sit with us on the couch to enjoy the game. My mom was never a huge sports fan but she never said no.

She always sat beside him, and during a dramatic moment he used to touch her thighs, pull at her sari or put his arm around her shoulders ‘in the heat of the moment’. He also asked her to cook up snacks for us, it started off as requests, later his tone changed to that of command.