Two brothers and a mother – Part 4

Hi everyone, I’m writing the next part of the story.

After inviting me into her bedroom, Amma and I both went to her room, and she locked the door.

The room had filled with the smell of her perfume and the lingering scent of my brother. I sat on the edge of the large bed, the same bed where I was probably conceived years ago.

My mother had already begun to unpin her saree, but I held her hand to stop her. I wasn’t ready to jump straight into the sex yet. I needed to talk.

Me: “Wait, Amma… not yet. I want to know about him. About Akash.”

She sat beside me, her shoulder touching mine, the “traditional” motherly warmth clashing with the heavy lust in the air.

Me: “How did he do it all those years? I mean, I’ve been gone for engineering, but he was right here. Did he use to come to you like this every day? Did he watch you while you prayed, knowing what he was going to do to you later?”

Amma: (Sighing softly, leaning her head on my shoulder) “Akash was very persistent, Ajay. At first, it was just small touches, little comments about how beautiful I looked in my sarees. Then came that letter during lockdown. He used to follow me into the kitchen, or wait until your father went to the college to grade papers. He was hungry for me, Ajay. Just like you are now.”

Me: “And the things I saw… the licking, the spit… did he teach you those things? Or did you want them too?”

Amma: (A small, guilty giggle escaping her) “We taught each other. He wanted a woman who would do anything for him. I realised I wanted a son who would worship my body. He used to spend hours just exploring my ass and my pussy and telling me that since I gave him life that now I owed him my pleasure.”

I looked at her, realising that for over 4 years, while I was studying and living a “normal” life, my mother had been evolving into this secret, lustful version of herself.

Me: I felt like I had so much to catch up on. He has 4 years of experience with you. I want to know everything he did so that I can do it better, (voice barely a whisper) I want to know the real dirt, Amma. Not just the sex. Did Akash… did he make you do things that would make a normal person sick? Things that go against everything you taught us about being clean and religious?”

My mother comes onto the bed, her saree silk rustling. She didn’t look ashamed; she looked like she was reliving a dark, thrilling memory.

Amma: “Akash has a very different mind, Ajay. He didn’t just want my beauty; he wanted the ‘human’ side of me. He was obsessed with my body’s natural smells and functions. He told me that since he came from my insides, nothing about my body could ever be ‘dirty’ to him.”

Me: “Like what? Tell me.”

Amma (Closing her eyes for a moment): “He used to spend hours with his face buried in my ass, Ajay. He wouldn’t just lick it; he wanted to smell it right after I came from the bathroom. He would ask me not to wash, saying he wanted to taste the ‘real’ me. And the farts… he would get so aroused if I let one out while he was down there. He used to call it ‘mother’s gas’, and he would actually try to breathe it in like it was perfume.”

I felt a surge of heat in my stomach, a mix of total disgust and intense arousal. The image of my “perfect” mother being used as a plaything for my brother’s darkest fetishes was overwhelming.

Me: “And you… You just let him? The same Amma who scolded us if we didn’t wash our hands properly before dinner?”

Amma (Reaching out to stroke my cheek, her eyes dark): “At first, I protested. I told him it was ‘chi-chi,’ disgusting. But he would look at me with such hunger and say, ‘Amma, you are my goddess, and every part of you is holy to me—even the waste.’ Eventually, I started to enjoy the power of it. I realised I could be a ‘horny bitch’ for my son and still be a mother to the world. He even made me spit in his mouth until he was full, just like you saw yesterday.”

Me: “I saw that… he was swallowing it like it was milk. It’s fucking crazy, Ma. Does he ever make you do those things while Dad is in the house?”

Amma: “Sometimes. The risk makes it better for him. He likes the idea that while your father is reading the newspaper in the hall, his wife is in the kitchen letting her son taste her unwashed asshole. It’s a secret world, Ajay. And now, you’re standing right in the middle of it.”

Me: (Leaning in, my voice trembling) “Wait… so did you really not clean yourself daily? When I saw Akash back there yesterday… had you cleaned your asshole before he started licking it? And what about right now, today?”

Amma: “It depends, Ajay. It depends on what your brother asks for. Yesterday… no, it wasn’t clean. Akash had specifically told me to come out of the bathroom just as I was, straight after shitting. He said he wanted the ‘raw’ scent of me. He didn’t want the smell of soap, and he wanted the smell of his mother’s waste.”

I felt nausea mixed with an intense and confusing heat. The thought of my brother’s face buried in her unwashed, dark skin while she stood there, enjoying it, was fucking crazy.

Me: “And you just… did it? You let him eat you like that?”

Amma: “I did. To him, there is no ‘dirty’ when it comes to me. He says it’s all part of the woman who made him. But today…”

She reached out to me and took my hand, placing it firmly on her thigh. Pulling me slightly closer so I could feel the warmth of her skin through her saree.

Amma: “Today, I have cleaned it… I know it is your first time being alone with me, and I didn’t want to overwhelm you with your brother’s tastes just yet. I wanted you to have a fresh asshole.”

Me: (Staring at her, breathless) “So yesterday, when I saw him… he was actually tasting your shit? And you were giggling and kissing him right after?”

Amma: “Yes, Ajay. That is the level of ‘dirt’ your brother lives for. He finds it holy. He used to say that if he could swallow my spit, then he could swallow anything that came out of me. But don’t worry about him right now. He’s busy with his WFH calls. Today is about what you want. Do you want me to clean, or do you want to try what your brother does?”

I looked at her, my head spinning around. I was a “clean” engineering student from Bangalore, but being in this room, hearing these things, I could feel my own discipline slipping away.

Me: I’d better go with clean only, Amma, today. (Looking down at the bedsheets, my voice low) “Amma… yesterday, when I was with you… I cum inside. And you said you were ovulating. I know Akash went to get a pill, but I’m worried. Does this happen every time? Does Akash always use a condom, or is he always coming inside you too?”

My mother reached out with fingers slightly rubbing the hair from my forehead in a gesture that was both motherly and deeply intimate.

Amma: “Akash is very disciplined about that, Ajay. He knows the risk. For four years, he has almost always worn a condom. He keeps a stock in his room, hidden in his desk. He told me he never wants to risk a ‘mistake’ that your father would notice. He wants to keep our secret forever.”

Me: “But yesterday… You let me do it without one. You let me go inside you completely for my first time.”

Amma (Nodding slowly): “That’s because it was your first time, dear. I wanted you to feel every bit of me, skin to skin, just like the day you were born. I didn’t want anything between your dick and your birthole. That’s why I had Akash get the emergency pill immediately. It’s a strong dose, and I can’t take it often, but for my younger son’s first experience, I was willing to take the risk.”

Me: “And what about today? If we are going to be alone, do I need to get one from Akash’s room? Or are you on some other birth control?”

Amma: “Your father thinks I take vitamins for my health, but they are actually daily hormonal pills. I started them a year after Akash, and I began our relationship. It makes things safer, but we are still careful. Akash usually wears the condom anyway—he says he likes the way it feels when he’s thrusting into my ass or my pussy for a long time.”

I looked at her, realising how calculated this entire “secret world” was. It wasn’t just lust; it was a managed system of lies and medicine.

Me: “So… today? Since I’m alone with you… Can I go without it again? I want to feel that heat again, Amma. I want to feel exactly what Akash has been feeling for four years.”

Amma (Leading me toward the pillows, her voice dropping to a whisper): “Today, you can choose. I’ve taken my pill, and the house is quiet. Your brother’s involved in his work, and your father is miles away. If you want to feel your mother’s warmth, I won’t stop you. But you have to promise me one thing, Ajay.”

Me: “Anything, Ma.”

Amma: “You have to be as silent as Akash. No matter how good it feels, no matter how much you want to scream when you enter me… we must remain the ‘perfect’ family to the outside world.”

Me: (My voice low and thick) “Amma… I don’t want to use a condom today. I want to go raw. I want to feel the real, natural heat of my birthhole, just like I did yesterday. I want to know exactly why Akash has been so addicted to you for four years.”

She didn’t say a word. She just gave me that slow, heavy-lidded look, the look of a woman who was completely ready for her son. I didn’t wait for her to help me this time. I stood up and undressed, my eyes locked on hers. Then, I reached for her.

I undressed my Amma slowly, savouring every layer of the traditional attire. First, that beautiful cotton saree pallu, then the front clips of her blouse and finally the string of her petticoat. When she was standing there completely naked in the light of the bedroom, I felt like I was looking at a hidden treasure.

Me: “Uff, Amma… your body is a total MILF masterpiece. Your skin is so milky white, and these big, saggy breasts… they are so inviting. I couldn’t believe I was to be shy around you…”

I kneel on the bed with my face level with her stomach. I noticed something which I hadn’t seen clearly yesterday in the rush of the moment. Around her deep navel, they were faint, silvery lines—stretch marks that spread across her slightly chubby, soft belly.

Me: (Tracing the lines with my finger) “What are these, Amma? These marks near your belly button… are these from when you were carrying Akash and me?”

Amma (Placing her hand on the back of my head with her voice trembling slightly): “Yes, Ajay. Those marks are you and your brother left on me. My skin stretched to hold both of you for nine months. Every line is a reminder that you both came from inside me. Akash loves to lick them, he says they are the paths that lead back to the pussy.”

I kissed her navel, my tongue tracing the dip of her belly button.

Me: “They make you look even hotter, Ma. Like a real, mature Desi woman. Your hips are so wide, and this hairy bush… It’s so natural. It’s you.”

I looked at her face. She was sweating already, her breath coming in short gasps. She looked to me like a mother who has been waiting for this solo attention from her younger son for a long time.

Amma: “Then don’t just look, Ajay. You said you wanted to go raw. Your brother is busy with his laptop, and the bed is ready. Come back to where you started, my son. Come and feel how much your mother has missed you.”

Me (Voice trembling, looking at her feet): “Amma, there’s a reason I asked to be alone. I actually have a fantasy. I want you to humiliate me. I was too embarrassed to say it in front of Akash, but I want to feel the shame of what we are doing. I want to be your toy, not just your son.”

My mother sat back slightly with her naked breasts swaying slightly. A slow and dark smile spread across her face, the look of a woman who knew exactly how to break a man’s spirit. She reached out and grabbed my chin, forcing me to look at her.

Amma: “So, my ‘studious’ engineer wants to be degraded by his own birth-giver? You want me to tell you how pathetic you are for craving your mother’s pussy?”

I nodded weakly, my dick throbbing at her cold tone.

Amma: “I can do that, Ajay. But listen to me—this ‘dirty’ play has limits. It can be dangerous if we lose ourselves. If it ever feels like too much, you command me to stop. Do you understand? I am still your mother, and I won’t let you break completely.”

Me: “I understand, Ma. But for now, please. Don’t be kind.”

Amma (Her voice dropping to a low, mocking whisper): “Fine then. Tell me, you little pervert, how much humiliation do you really want? Do you want me to use you as my spittoon? Do you want to drink my piss from the same body that once gave you milk? Or do you want to be buried under my unwashed asshole, breathing in my farts and waiting for my shit to fall on your face?”

The Ritual of the Gut

Me: (Whispering, my heart hammering) “Yes, all of it, Amma. Give me the deep stuff. The stuff even Akash might be afraid of. I want to be your dog.”

Amma: “Open wider, then. Don’t you dare flinch. You’re my dog now.”

I watched her throat working and her chest heaving as she began to pull the saliva from deep inside. It wasn’t just spit. I could hear the wet and raspy sound of her clearing her throat, pulling up the thick yellow phlegm from her gut.

She leaned over me, her large, saggy breasts hanging right over my face. I watched her face contort as she gathered a massive, thick glob of yellow spit. She held it for a second, letting me see the warm, unrefined reality of it, and then—thud—she spat it directly onto my tongue.

It was warm, thick, and tasted of the deep, raw interior of her body. Before I could even try to swallow, she did it again. Hrrrk-tuh! Another heavy, yellow glob hit my mouth. It was the most “yucky” and intense feeling I had ever known.

Amma: (Laughing a dark, horny giggle) “Look at my brilliant engineering student. Swallowing his mother’s gut-spit like it’s the finest milk. Does it taste like your birthhole, Ajay? Does it taste like the woman who birthed you?”

I was struggling to swallow the liquid that was passing down my throat, but I felt like I was taking a piece of her inside me.

I really want to know what you thought of this chapter. What did you think of the parts where people were treated badly, like when they had to spit up food and other dirty things? Were these parts interesting to you? Were they too gross? Please write your thoughts below.

I want to know if I should add more of these things to Part 5. Do you think I should focus more on the sex scenes and the danger of getting caught by the Father? Your thoughts will help me decide how explicit the next part should be. Look forward to hearing your opinions on the humiliation rituals.