My name is Arman. I am from Mumbai. I am 24 years old now. But when this incident between me and my mom happened, I was 20 years old. I live with my divorced Mom, Heena, now 46 years and my elder sister Arunima, now 28 years old. While Mom calls her Anu, I call her Di.
I am almost 6 ft tall, fair and average-built guy. My Mom stands 5′ 4″. She has a nice sexy figure. 36C-28-34. She is fair and looks much younger than her age. People often find it difficult to believe that she has two grown-up children. My Di is much taller, almost 5′ 9″ and slim. She has a model-like figure. 34B-24-34.
My Mom is a design artist and works as a freelancer for various ad agencies from home. She is a very cool and fun-loving person. She always treated both of us as her friends. I was so small when my Mom and dad divorced that I don’t even remember my dad.
For all these years, my Mom has been my Mom and dad. She is used to wearing quite shabbily or clumsily at home. She wore shorts, pajamas, Tees, spaghetti or camisoles or, many times, cropped tops. But she seldom wore a bra at home.
She never bothered if her skin, boobs or legs were exposed. Nor did she ever bother to close the door while she was changing in her room or bath time. My Di grew up seeing my Mom. So naturally, she followed her in every aspect. She, too, would never care about her clothes or appearance at home.
She never hesitated to get naked in front of me. We all three were very closely bonded with each other. Even as a teenager, I had seen both naked on countless occasions. Mom has a pretty nice pair of melons. Her boobs are firm and protruding, and have big dark brown areolas.
Despite her age, they are not sagging much. She always used to have a thick bush whenever I would get an opportunity to see her without her panties. Her thighs were thunderous, adequately fleshy and looked carved out of marble. I started growing an infatuation with my Mom.
I started to wank whenever I would get to her nude fantasizing about her. Though I felt quite bad about it in the beginning, I got used to it later. But soon after I completed my high school education, I got admission to a reputed college in England for a 5 years Hotel Management course.
The course consisted of 8 semesters and one year of full-time apprenticeship. When this incident happened, I was studying in 3rd year while Di was pursuing her Masters in Literature at a college in Mumbai. I had stayed out of the house for almost 2 and a half years and hadn’t visited home during this time.
But after completing my 5th sem, Mom insisted that I skip industrial training this time and spend the two-month break with her and Di. After coming back, the first couple of days were quite emotional and nostalgic. I was meeting my beloved Mom and Di after such a long time.
But then, gradually, I noticed a few changes in Mom and Di. I felt the openness in the house has declined substantially. Though both were still dressing rather carelessly at home, I observed both Mom and Di never got naked in front of me. Both started locking their room doors while changing their clothes.
And most importantly, both Mom and Di always wore proper bras at home. 2-3 days later, we wanted to move our heavy sofa set for some reason. So we called up our society watchman to help us. It was decided that Mom and I would lift it from one side while the watchman would lift it from the opposite side.
But when we lifted it, Mom found it too heavy, and her grip loosened. As a result, the entire weight fell on my hands. I alone couldn’t handle it. Ultimately, putting it down, my hands got sandwiched between the floor and the heavy sofa set.
Mom quickly took me to the nearby hospital. There it was found that both my wrists were fractured. We returned home with both my hands plastered on it and put in a sling. As we reached home, I came up with my first problem. I wanted to pee. With both hands in the sling, I couldn’t figure out how to pee.
So finally, I told Mom about my problem. On hearing that at first, Mom laughed. But then,