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Click hereThrough it all, we are aware of the presence of Danteshwari, knowing that she smiles upon us. As I surrender to the power of our ultimate orgasm, I manage to whisper, "Thank you -- thank you for your gift."
I am pretty sure as I slide into unconsciousness, wrapped in a blanket of sheer, incestuous love, I hear a divine voice whisper back, "YOU ARE WELCOME, DAUGHTER."
When I awake, it is dawn. Jeff carries me in his strong arms as if I were a child. I am naked as is he. I look up into his eyes and see his love for me. We don't have to say it aloud to each other. We know it for absolute truth. I love my son. He loves me.
Other sons are carrying their mothers home alongside us. Ramita's arms are draped around Bimal's neck, her head against his chest. Her eyes are closed and she has a smile on her face that belongs to an angel. My heart swells with happiness for her. The village folk are emerging from their homes to greet us -- to welcome us back. They sing prayers and praise to Danteshwari for her blessings -- for the continuing fulfillment of her pact with the village.
With head held proud and high, Jeff carries me home. He takes me to his bed and gently lowers me to it. Naked, we cuddle up together and sleep. The dream is gone. In it's place are new dreams showing us our life together. When we wake, my son and I make love again. It is as wonderful as the first time -- perhaps even better. As I writhe under my son's body, his cock making me squirm and moan with incestuous pleasure, I know that each time we make love, it will be more wonderful than the time before.
Five years pass. In everyone's eyes, my son and I are husband and wife, our wedding rites performed by Danteshwari herself. When Joseph came home, I demanded a divorce and he agreed. I think this land had already defeated him and he simply wanted to leave anyway. He left for America and we never saw him again.
My son and I are so happy. He works the land, the gift of farming evident in his touch. I teach to this day. And together, we raise our children. Damika, our daughter is five, conceived the night my son and I were first joined. She is joy personified. Naija thinks that she will someday take her place as the village's holy woman. Our son, Jack is three and is the apple of our eye. My belly is swollen with our third child. My heart tells me it is another daughter. I will name her after Naija, who will never admit it, but is pleased by that.
Each day we give thanks to Danteshwari for the gifts she has showered us with - our love for each other, the blessing of our children and for gifts unlooked for yet given with love. It has only been recently that I realized that I have stopped aging. Naija has explained that all the mothers blessed by the Goddess have stopped aging and that we will not resume aging until our sons have reached our age, so that we might travel the road of our lives together until the end.
We are home, my son and I. I know we will never leave. We will never want to. I am forever a daughter of India and in love with my son, married to my son, happy with a life given to me by the grace and blessing of Danteshwari.
The End
- COMMENTS
Credit owed to a bold, tantric-minded writer. I feel less alone, led on to love, thank you.
great story! it would have been better if you added the scene of her screaming in pain as she gives birth to jeff's incestuous half-daughter/half-sister children!
Danteshwari was able to keep her from aging, but not from having pooch on her stomach and saggy breasts? come on, Ahab, you can do better than that!
a woman has taken her son's virginity, and she got pregnant by his very first cum in woman's body.
brave! that's the way it should be.
to much of big breasts in your stories but 55ee takes the biscuit. Was it your mum, wife or daughter who had them
This is really one of the hottest story, The marriage life with his own mother is always a bliss, would like to know about mamatha and rutika life with thier sons also.
I just really live this story, i think this is one of the most loving story between mom and son i have ever read. And I have those feelings for my mom i guess it's really close to my heart . And it's my biggest dream in my life to marry her and have children whith her!
One huge turn off is the woman was too old!!! Should have been 8 to 10 years younger. I prefer 10. THAT HURT THIS STORY
Any chance of Part 2? Great story!
It would be even hotter if you can add more fucking descriptions and even the mother arranging more women for her son as she herself can make love with them.
I Love your writings!!!! Even though Mother and Son is not my favorite, mainly because it seems so common and even "forced", that's not the right word as I don't mean rape or anything bad but more like it HAS to be. Oedipus be damned!
That being said while I usually read Brother's and Sister's, Uncle's and Niece's, Daughter's and Father's, and so one the stories I enjoy the most what ever the coupling's are the ones of Love, not just sex but of Passion and emotion Soulmate, true LOVE. Which is how I found you. I was reading one of your stories and in the author's note you mentioned this story... I have read most of what you have on here and I admit I was one that like you mentioned over looked this story. So, I decided to give it a go. I Love the imagery. the mysticism, the Love. I wish it didn't end the way it did. I wish you wrote about the five years you skipped I wish you wrote about the daughter learning from the elder about a celebration of the aging process beginning again as Mother and Son truly began to journey through Life as equals. I wanted it all.
So Thank YOU.
I loved the pagan mysticism associated with it.Also,at no point it sounded vulgar,childish or nasty.Beautiful portrayal of love and lust at its zenith,and in its purest form
I've read this many times, but it is always new to me. Christine is indeed a good mother, and unknowingly a true daughtrer of India. It is amazing how you portray a mood of inevitability about theit joining, rather than just being horney and available to each other. She has tried to be good or at least honorable in all things. She has tried to be a good and faithful wife and mother. She is an accomplished teacher, probably because she has approached her task with a different attitude than her husband has his own. And though it seems as if her faith has betrayed her, she seeks solace and advice in the very scriptures that her husband has unconciously used to distance himself from her. The way they come together while she is unaware of who 'he' is, but willing to accept her 'gift' is beautiful. The rite of their joining is a bit magical, but the epiloge is really good. It ties up the bundle neatly. The female Bengal Tiger is a good metaphor for Christine.
I guess my problem was the whole mysticism. It was just so different from your other writings.
It's good to try new things. It was a strange and awkward read so it never really got erotic. Too many unexplained things and too little interfacing between the mom-son pair. The usual hyper-dimensions of boobs and penises always amuse rather than excite. The goddess parts typed in all caps was really annoying. There must be another way to do that on this site. Some folks just do a triple star or something at the start to show a paragraph in 'dream time' or a flashback and any imagined voices.
Kudos for trying a mystical method of bring together a mom and son for another twist. I gave three stars.
With a story that's both lyrically beautiful and ball-clutchingly hot. Most readers will think that young Jeff is the lucky one. After all, he gets his big hard cock up the same wonderful hole he came out of any old time he feels the urge. For lots and lots of boys that's a dream come true. Face it, nothing can ever get a boy's cock as hard as his own mother's cunt. Fucking his own mother, the boy feels that his young cock is safe and protected and cherished, embraced by layers of warm wet loving mommy-twat. When Jeff blows his young balls and shoots mom full of his creamy semen, he knows that this is the best that life has to offer. But--lets not forget that Christine, his mother, is lucky too. She has her darling baby boy back up where he started out, baby boy's pumping his mother's mommy-hole with all his youthful energy and strength and wild enthusiasm, and he's giving her the by far best cums of her life. When Jeff unloads his hot and very potent balls and shoots a tsunami of sperm up inside her, both he and Christine know that that's exactly where his precious sperm belongs. It's doing the job it's meant to do--Jeff's fucking a baby up where he was once a baby. I'm so glad that the two of them get married and live together, making more cute little incest-kids, permanent souvenirs of their hot incestuous fucks. That's what all the hunky, happy young lads of the village are doing, "carrying their mothers home alongside us." Like Jeff and Christine, all of them know the truth of the old saying, "a boy's penis and his mother's vagina--made for each other."
Soooo original and flowing- I could not anticipate the next turn of the storyline !
I wish I could express my stories half as well !! I especially love the steady build up you expertly weaved into this one. I read constantly [ erotica as well as sf and mystery ] and you are now an all time favorite author so I personally would appreciate any further offerings !
kindest regards,
Jack
but I am not sure this one was for me. It was almost a bit too much of the mystical. It also left me with a few too many unanswered questions. For example, how did the sons know to be there. Yes they had their own dream, but was there a "guide" to lead them to a cleansing pool with their own oil, and who prepared them for the coming ceremony? ???
Well, once more my mind betray's me with the lie that I thought. I read your stories and I think, "this is his best work' , and read another only to be proven wrong. I wish I had been given your immagination and gift for storytelling. This is a beautiful story of Love reincarnated in the son. The Well of Life reincarnated in the womb of a woman past child-bearing age and their union. The blessing of a Goddess who does not forget Her promise, even to an outsider who is an unbeliever. The regeneration of a tiny, seemingly insignificant, village. The dissolution of a barren marriage. And a story of love and friendship. I am the son, and though I know nothing of Danteshwari, I have been the one Blessed to know a love that I knew in my heart would remain unrequited forever. Maybe Danteshwari bestows Her gifts in America also. We are not all heathens and sometimes need help. Thank you AhabScribe. Only one suggestion. When referring to God, of whatever culture or belief system, spell the God with a capital letter. It is important. I don't have a 'little g' God. And the Goddess Danteshwari of this story is a 'capital G & D' God.
YOu captured it all. a fine piece of eortic writing of course!
I am an indian.. and I must say, great story... keep it up.. and do visit sometime...