Adultery My mom's treatment at the hands of commoners by debt_is_paid

[usaiha2]

Chapter 44

 
The Card Game - Final Fantasy -1

That night, after the tailor left, my mom and I sat for dinner for the first time since we came back from her maternal home in Siliguri. She looked slightly nervous and so I decided to have a proper conversation with her for the first time since then, Ki hoeche, ma Eto tension e keno (What happened mother Why are you so tensed)
 
My mom wavered for a few seconds and then shook her head. Na, kal Shyam Babu aar onar kichu bondhura asben amader barite taash khelte (No, actually tomorrow Shyam Babu and some of his friends are coming home to play cards), she finally admitted.
 
O tai (Oh really), I said, pretending to be a little surprised, Hain, Kakababu tokhon ei byapare tomae ki ekta bolchilen. Asole ami thik bujhini tokhon. Ami oder songe khelte pari (Yes, Kakababu was saying something along those lines today. Actually, I didnt fully understand it at the time. So, can I play with them too)
 
My mom looked at me and smiled innocently, Hain, Shyam Babu bolchilen je tokeo khelae nebe. (Yes, Shyam Babu insisted on inviting you to play with them as well.). She paused for a few seconds and then finally asked the dreaded question, Acha, Bunty, ami asole toke eta onekdin dhore jigesh korbo bhabchilam. Kintu lojjae ebong bhoye jigesh korte parini. (So, Bunty, Ive been meaning to ask you something. But my shame and fear were stopping me to ask you this question.)
 
Even though I knew what she was going to ask, I decided to act dumb, Ki go, ma Bolo na, please. (What, mother Tell me, please.)
 
My mom took a deep breath and began, Tui Siliguri te jeta dekhechis seta (What you saw in siliguri), she hesitated for a few seconds and then continued, .asole Bahadur amae jor koreni. Umm..ami toke ki kore bojhai (actually Bahadur didnt force me. Ummhow can I make you understand).
 
Seeing her so horribly nervous and confused, I consoled her by putting a caring hand over her own and said, Tumi chinta koro na, ma. Ami jeta dekhechi seta kauke bolbo na. Baba keo na. Shei ghotona ta amader dujoner moddhe gopon thakbe. (Dont worry, ma. I will never tell anyone what I saw. Not even Dad. That incident will be a secret between the two of us.).
 
For some reason, after the reassurance I gave her she even got more confused. Kintu tor ota dekhe kharap lage ni Tor monehoy ni je tor ma akta nongra bod-shobhaber mohila (But didnt that make you feel bad Didnt you feel that your mother is a dirty shameless woman)
 
Na go, ekebarei na. Sotti kotha bolte, amar ota dekhe ekta odbhut anubhuti hoechilo. (No, not at all. In fact, watching that scene gave me a strange sensation.)
 
My mother looked at me suspiciously, Ki anubhuti (What sensation)
 
Now, it was my turn to feel nervous. I was about to admit something to her that I was supposed to be my secret. Asole, ma, jokhon tomader dujonke ami kitchen e oi obosthae dekhlam, tokhon amar (To tell you the truth, mother, when I saw you two in the kitchen in that position, then my), I hesitated like my mom for a few seconds and then finally blurted, tokhon amar bhishon sex uthe gechilo. (then my whole body was filled with a sexual desire.)
 
My mom put a hand over her mouth in shock and her eyes grew wide after listening to my confession, Haye Dariya! Bunty kisob bolchis tui egulo! (Oh my gosh! Bunty what are you saying!)
 
Please, ma, rege jeo na. (Please, mother, dont be angry with me.)
 
To be honest, my mom appeared more amazed than enraged. N-na ami ragbo na. Kintu tui eshob ki bolchis Tor bhalo laage tor ma ke erom obosthae dekhte Ekjon nichu jaater driver er sathe! Ami tor nijer ma! Erom ki kore bhabte paris tui amar byapare (No, Im not angry with you. But how can you say this You like watching your mother in this state With a low-class driver Im your own mother! How can you think like this about me), she pleaded for an answer.
 
Ami seta jani na ma. Kintu ami jani je Baba ekhane sobsomoe thake na bole tumi khub ekla hoe jao. Aar tomar akakitta metanor jonno tumi onno lokeder kache shei saririk shukh ta pete chao. Amar tate kono apotti nei. Tumio toh manush boiki. (I dont know that, mother. But I do know that Dad is not always there and thats why you feel very lonely. And to get rid of your loneliness, you find other men who can satisfy your womanly needs. I have no problem with that. Even youre a human being.) That was an honest confession from me and my mom seemed thoroughly surprised to hear that. In a way, getting approval from her son like this was something she clearly did not expect.
 
Kintu, tuio ki amae (But, do you want me.), my mom stopped mid-way before asking that question as she was too embarrassed to ask her own son whether he wanted to have sex with her.
 
I, of course, already knew what I wanted. Na na, ekbarei na. Ami kokhono erom chaite pari bolo Kintu ami chai tumi ek2 free hoe thako amar sathe. Esob bhebo na je amar mathae ki cholche ba ami ki bhabbo tomae jerom-kerom obosthae dekhe ki bhabbo. Bishwash koro, amar tomar ei dual jībanadhārā te kono apotti nei. Asole, ete amader dujoneri laabh. (No, not at all. Can I ever ask you of such a thing But I do want you to act and dress freely when Im around. Dont even think that about whats going through my head or what I would think looking at you in certain conditions. Trust me, I have no problem with this dual lifestyle of yours. This will be advantageous for the both of us.), I cracked a pleasant smile when I said that last sentence.
 
For the first time in a long time, I saw a brief look of relief on her fair, beautiful, womanly face. For a minute, she paused to allow her brain to process all this information. Finally, after that, she said, Kal Shyam Babu onar bondhuder sathe taash khelte aschen. Kakababu amar jonno notun dress banie diyeche jeta ami okhane porbo. Ora ashar agei ami ready hoe thakbo. Tui ektu dress ta dekhe bolish amae kemon lagche, thikache (Tomorrow, Shyam Babu is coming here to play cards with his friends. Kakababu has stitched a new dress for me which I will wear in that occasion. Ill be ready before they come. But I want you to see me in that dress and give me your feedback, okay), she smiled shyly, like a teenage girl almost.
 
I nodded in a yes and my mom smiled further.
 
Soon after, we each went to our bedrooms and slept. Tomorrow was going to be a long day!
 
The next morning we were busy preparing for the pot-bellied pervert, Shyam Uncle and his friends. Haria cleaned the entire house while my mom was busy cooking some delicious appetizers for the group. Apparently, Shyam Uncle had instructed her to make those meals so that they could eat while molesting her. It felt weird chatting with my mom normally after last nights conversation. It seemed as though all the awkwardness that we shared after coming back from that Siliguri trip had somehow dissolved overnight. In any event, this felt good and from my moms expression, I could make out that she was both nervous and excited about this night. But I was sure that my support last night had done wonders to dissipate her fears quite a bit. She now, somewhat knew I was an incest cuckold!
 
Haria was gone by the afternoon. I was slightly disappointed to see him go as now that I had come out of the closet, I thought my sweet homely mature mother would allow our low-class servant to have his way with her. But I believe she was saving herself for tonight. This was indeed going to be a long night as we had no idea who Shyam Uncles friends were and what he had planned for us  mother and son both. In our own minds, we just knew that it was going to be erotic and rough!
 
They were scheduled to arrive by 6:00 PM. So, at 4:00, after lunch, my mom went upstairs to get ready. I was thoroughly excited to see her wearing that outfit again. Moreover, she would now be dressing-up even more since this was no rehearsal. This was the actual event! When she came downstairs, I was flabbergasted and was staring at her open-mouthed!
 
My mom was looking even sexier now than when I saw her in the bedroom with Kakababu! She was wearing that same half-sleeved black mini dress and mini-skirt, except with a few twists. Her silk dress appeared shorter from the close distance and as a matter of fact, the people in the neighborhood would have gone crazy seeing her wearing this dress in public. The dress hugged her mature womanly curves beautifully. Her ample set of luscious 36-DD tits seemed to be supported well by the black top she was wearing. The topmost hook was still undone and I was treated to a taste of her cleavage, pushed up by a lacy white bra, encasing her creamy fair breasts. The length of her mini-skirt was mid thigh, and I watched intently as she leaned over to dust a table. Her dress lifted up in the back revealing black thigh high stockings and her smooth chubby thighs above the lacy trim. Moreover, the skirt didn't even cover all of her plump ass, leaving the round heavy globes slightly peeking out from the bottom. Her make-up was light and she had also doused herself with a small dose of her favorite flowery perfume. My mom had pouty full lips that were coated with the brightest red lipstick I'd ever seen. For the coup de grace (French word for decisive stroke), she slipped into a pair of spiked heeled pumps  roughly 3" high heels that made her even taller than 5'-4". My mom struck a commanding figure yet she had a submissive heart!
 
Kemon lagche re amae, she asked me innocently as she stood in front of the hall mirror, admiring herself.
 
Honestly, I was licking my lips drinking in her awesome sexual appearance and aura. I was surprised at the thrilling feeling that passed though me, as I stared at her while she was looking like a woman right out of a fetish dream. In many ways, I had played a part in us culminating to this moment and I felt like a real pimp getting my own mature mother ready for her big fuck session with Uncle Shyam and his supposedly brutish, low-class friends. The feeling made me even even more horny and excited. B-Besh bhalo lagche, mummy! (R-Really amazing, mother!), I stammered.
 
Ding Dong!, went the bell.
 
Oh ora eshe geche! (Oh they are here!), my mom stumbled. Obviously a wave of nervous excitement had just rushed past her. Leaving her side, I went to open the door and finally see who all were there. As soon as I opened, I saw Uncle Shyam standing there wearing a blue shirt buttoned all the way up his hairy chest and covering his pot-belly. He smiled wryly when he saw me and then took a step back to introduce his friends who were standing at the side. I was amazed to see the first one!
 
Kemon acho, bhai (How are you, bro), the milkman asked and shook my hand. To recap, he is a 25 year old young man, lean built, very few facial hair and was not very ugly looking, but had a lot of pimples on his face. He was wearing a short T-shirt, in a sandy yellow color and which hugged his lean frame very tightly. He was also wearing a frilly 3-quarter shorts that ended up to his knees. He smiled to see me as well.