SALMAN AND HIS AMMI

My name is Salman. I am a 21-year-old guy living in the state of Uttar Pradesh, in India (I will not say which city). I have a dirty little secret...okay, not so little...that's dirty if declared in public, but really is quite common among our community. Everyone is aware of it, but for obvious reasons, no one talks about it.

I come from quite a conservative Muslim family, where we offer prayers five times a day, try to live our lives as per the teachings and dislike anyone who tries to divert us from it.

My father's name is Aqib and he is an electrician. He has been working in the Gulf from before I was born. He doesn't live in any particular country for long. A few years in one gulf country, and then shifts to another. He has probably lived and worked in every gulf country by now. He once told me he even works double shift to earn more money, and so has collected enough money to build a decent three-room house. But he comes from a conservative background, so he did not send me and my two siblings, both sisters elder to me, to decent schools. We have all been educated in Madarsas, under the U.P. Madarsa Board.

My childhood was like any other kid in our community. Going to the Madarsa in the mornings, where in addition to normal subjects like Mathematics and Science, we also had subjects like Quran, Arabic and Persian. Teachers were very strict, and we would get canings if we misbehaved, or did not study properly, especially during Quran class. One of the popular rumours that I have heard from my friends, is that the Moulvi sahebs (teachers), would even call some of the boys for special disciplining if they misbehaved (or even if they didn't). After school, I would get together with my friends on the ground, and play cricket, and then return home when it was starting to get dark.

My father, who has been living in the Gulf from before I was born, usually comes home only once a year, for a couple of weeks. Sometimes, he spends longer, like 2-3 months, when he is between jobs, but that is rare. Maybe once every 3-4 years. So all in all, you could say that I have had very limited interaction with him. In total, I might have spent just about one year with him, and so I really have no ties with him except that he is legally my father. I, my Ammi (mother) and my sisters have never been to the Gulf, because he cannot afford to fund it. He tells me that if I want to see the Gulf, I should also take a job like him, and if my sisters want to see the Gulf, they should get married to someone working there. Sometimes he also says he would get them married off to a Sheikh from the Gulf. It is said that these Sheikhs give a good bride-price, called as Mahr to marry the girls, and it is also considered a status symbol among the parents it their daughter is married to an Arab Sheikh.

My friend Aamir, once told me that when his sister Rukhsana got married to a Sheikh, his parents made enough money that they could buy a car. He had overheard his mother once describing how it works. There is a big hall, where the Sheikh is seated on a luxurious seat, set on a stage. On both sides of him are his assistant and a couple of bodyguards. Seated in front of the stage on plastic chairs are all the potential wives, dressed in their finest and with makeup, accompanied by their mothers. The shaikh will select the girl he likes, and point out to her. Immediately, his assistant will come with a suitcase full of cash, which is given to the mother. Then there is a quick Nikah ceremony, and they are officially married. All the girls are supposed to come with their passports so that the selected one can leave with the Sheikh for the Gulf immediately.

As for my going to the Gulf, let me tell you, I have no wish to do so. The reason, I am going to tell you below.

About two years ago few months after my 19th birthday, I was in the second year of college where I was doing a BA course, On one particular day, for some reason, we were let off early from college. I don't exactly remember why, and I don't really care either, because that day my life changed forever.

My friends and I used to walk to college which was quite close, just about a kilometer away from home. I came home and knocked on the front door, but there was no reply. I continued to knock for 3-4 minutes, but no one opened the door. Being the only male in the family, I have a key to the front door, which even my elder sisters do not have. I unlocked the door, and kept my bag on a chair, and went to the kitchen to drink water. While I was drinking water, I thought I heard a soft moan coming from the bedroom.

Suspicious, I took off my sandals and walked quietly towards the bedroom. I had seen enough porn videos and was quite sure it was one of my sisters masturbating. I took out my phone and turned the camera to video mode, hoping that if I posted it online, I might get good money for it.

But what I saw, was even better than one of my sisters masturbating. There, on her bed, was my Ammi, lying naked with a man above her, fucking her hard. They couldn't see me, because the man's back was towards me, while my Ammi was lying on her back, with her legs wrapped around the man's hips. Every time he thrust, she gave out a loud moan, and her large breasts swayed with the thrust. One of her hands was clutching the bedsheet, while the other was around the man's back. After they had been fucking for some time, my Ammi's voice became louder, and at one point, she sounded in such ecstasy that I knew she was cumming, just like the women I'd seen in the porn videos. After some time, the man also started grunting, pushed himself deep into her and stopped thrusting. I knew he was ejaculating inside her, as my Ammi said in Urdu, "yes, Siddharth, yes. Give it to me, give it to me."

When the man had finished, he lay next to her to catch his breath. Then, she brought her mouth to his dick and licked him clean.

After some time, when he got up, I recognised him as the doodhwala (milkman) who used to come to our door every morning to supply milk. He was tall, with broad shoulders and powerful arms. Even after cumming inside my Ammi, his uncircumcised dick was long and thick.

He dressed up, asked my Ammi, "Safiyya, Did you like it?"

"Hmmm," replied my Ammi and giggled like a girl, just like my younger sister does.

"I'll come tomorrow," he said and headed for the main door.

Realising he was coming my way, I slipped into the other bedroom and hid under the bed.

After he had left, I peeked into the bedroom and saw my Ammi was now also dressing up. At one point, she brought her hand between her legs, and then brought her finger to her mouth and licked it. Then she took a deep sigh and smiled.

Before she could come out of the room and see me, I quietly went out of the front door, closed it, and went to the terrace. My dick was hard like rock after seeing my Ammi being fucked, and I waited for it to soften. But I could not get the scene out of my head, and finally, I sat down in a corner, where I masturbated, and finally, my dick became soft. After some time, I went down and knocked on the door.

"What happened? Why are you back so early?" my Ammi asked me.

"I don't know, Ammi. They let us off early." I said, looking at her intently.

She had straightened out her clothes and her hair and was looking quite normal. But she had a happy smile on her face that she usually didn't have in the evenings when I would come back from college.

I then went to my room (being a boy, I have my own separate room) and lay back in bed, thinking about how I could make money from the video. After some time, my thoughts again went back to my Ammi lying in bed, moaning in ecstasy, as Siddharth the doodhwala pounded into her. My dick again turned hard.

Then, I got a naughty thought. Just like that, with my hard dick creating a tent on my salwar and kameez, I went to the kitchen, where my Ammi was preparing dinner. I leaned back on the door to her right, facing her and looked at her carefully. Even after three children, she was still quite slim, though with a slightly thicker waist than my sisters. Her breasts were large, and straining against her kameez. I loved the curve of her lower back, as it arched out to her hips.

"What are you making, Ammi?"

"I'm making your favourite korma," she replied, without looking at me.

"I want to have rooh-afza. Is there any milk in the fridge?" I asked, opening the fridge.

"There is a little."

"Only so little? Didn't the doodhwala come today?"

"No, he didn't come today. I don't know why," she lied.

I closed the fridge, slowly went behind her, and wrapped my hands around her.

"What happened, Salman? Today you're feeling a lot of love for your mother," she said.

"Yes," I replied, and pressed into her so that my hard dick was now pushing between her buttocks, making her stiffen.

She tried to pull away, but I am much stronger to her, and held her like that.

"Let me go, Salman. I have to finish the cooking," she protested.

"Do you know the doodhwala's name and number, Ammi? I will ask him why he didn't come today."

"No, how would I know his name and number?"

I continued to hold her like that for some time, and then released her suddenly, and went to my room.

The next day also, I bunked class and came home early. The doodhwala was there with my Ammi, and I started recording. This time, he was taking my Ammi from behind, like a dog fucking a bitch. She was moaning loudly, her breasts dangling and swaying every time he pounded into her.

"Yes, yes, give me a baby, Siddharth," she cried as he orgasmed into her.

My eyes widened. What did she mean by that? Did she really want to have his baby?

That evening, I came to the kitchen, and said, "So didn't the doodhwala come today either?"

"No, he didn't. Why are you so concerned about him suddenly?"

"Nothing like that," I said.

After some time, I said, "I want to show you something on my mobile, Ammi."

"Okay, what is it?"

"I will show you," I said, coming up next to her.

I casually opened to a video that one of my friends had sent me, of a dog fucking a bitch. She saw it, and got angry.

"What is this nonsense you are showing me? Have you gone mad?"

"Okay, okay. I'll show you another video," I said and swiped to the video I had recorded earlier in the day of the doodhwala and her fucking just like a dog and a bitch.

Her face turned pale, and she just stood there, wordlessly.

"I thought you said the doodhwala didn't come today, Ammi?"

"I-I-I, y-y-yes. I forgot," she said, her voice trembling with shock and fright.

"I have another video. Do you want to see it, Ammi? I think you'll like it," I said, and put on the video from the previous day.

Ammi just stood there transfixed, wordlessly staring at the phone.

Then she grabbed for the phone, but I held my phone straight up above my head. I am quite a bit taller than my Ammi, so there was no way she could reach it.

She jumped up and down a few times to reach it, every time bumping into me. I laughed to see her desperation.

She realised it was futile, and stopped jumping. "Please Salman, give your phone to me."

"No. Jump some more," I said.

She started jumping again, and I held the phone a bit back, so that every time she jumped, she landed almost onto me. Once, she lost her balance and almost fell, and I held her by the waist, pulling her to myself, crushing her large breasts on my chest.

She stopped jumping, and with all her force, pushed me again.

"What do you want?"

"Nothing. I'm going to send this to Abbu."

"Are you mad? Do you know what will happen?" she said, horrified.

"Yes. Abbu will give you a thrashing."

"He will do more than that. What I've done is Zina. He will have me killed. Please Salman, don't tell anyone," she pleaded.

"But I will. You should be punished for your Zina."

"Salman, no, please. I'll do anything you want. What do you want me to cook for you? Do you want new clothes? A new mobile?"

I grinned at her desperation and took my eyes down her body. Her dupatta had come off, revealing a bit of her cleavage, and my eyes stopped at her large breasts, heaving with the exertion of jumping.

She took a step back, realising my intentions, a look of horror on her face.

"No," she said.

"Yes. Otherwise, I will tell Abbu."

Her eyes become downcast, looking at the floor. She knew she had no other options.

"Don't you love me, Ammi?"

Now she looked up at me with a confused look.

"What do you mean?"

"Don't you love me, Ammi?"

"Of course, I do. You are my child."

"Then love me. Why are you so hesitant?"

She stood there, unmoving.

I reached out, took her face in my hands, to kiss her. Pulling her roughly to myself, I kissed her roughly, biting her lips, mauling her like a crazed animal.

"No, no," she said, struggling, and managing to free herself from my mauling.

"Not like that. Slowly. Gently," she said, finally resigning herself to her fate.

A bit like her namesake Safiyya, who had resigned herself to her fate hundreds of years ago in the deserts of Arabia, with a man who had just killed her father and husband, I thought. And in doing so, the man had set a template and example for the men of my community, that they could take any woman they wanted, from whoever they wanted, and however they wanted. But the reality in my family had turned out quite the opposite, where a Hindu man had taken my Ammi and given her three children. And she had given herself to him willingly.

I tried again, a bit gently, but she pushed me away again.

"Let me show you," she said, and brought her lips to mine, softly nibbling, biting lightly.

She brought her tongue between my lips, pushing it between, touching mine, and sending my temperature rising.

"My Ammi is kissing me!" I thought. My dick was hard as a rock, aroused by the very thought.

We continued kissing, and then Ammi took my hand and led me into the bedroom.

In the bedroom, she pulled my kameez up, and I raised my arms, to help her take it off. Once it was off, she tentatively felt by chest with her fingertips, running them lightly, feeling me. Then she undid the string of my shalwar, and slowly let it fall, releasing my hard and raging dick.

"Ya Allah, you're so big," she breathed as she lightly ran her soft fingers over it, sending a thrill through my body.

"Your real father," she added after some time.

Then she raised her arms, and looked into my eyes, indicating she wanted me to take off her kameez, which I did, releasing her large, bra-encased breasts. I lightly ran my fingers over the half moons exposed over the bra.

"Take it off," she said, and turned around to make it easier for me.

I struggled to release the hook, pulling, and pushing to find some way to take it off, at which Ammi smiled, reached behind her back with her right hand and undid the hook. Then she again turned to face me, pulled it off, revealing her large breasts to me.

Tentatively, I brought my hands to her milky-white, round, luscious, breasts with light brown nipples. Running my fingers over them lightly, I brought my thumbs over the hard nipples, rolling them over.

Ammi's breath increased as I did so, and she closed her eyes.

I went down on my knees, so that her heavy breasts were right in front of my lips, I was in heaven. I brought my lips to her left nipple and began sucking, like I would have done as a baby, but had long forgotten.

With her hand on my head, she arched her back and whispered, "Yes, my baby."

Placing my hands on her buttocks, I pulled her to myself, while I sucked her nipple hard, hoping she would still reward me with her milk.

When I sucked and tugged her right nipple back with my lips, she let out quiet sighs. Then I tried to take her entire breast into my mouth by opening my mouth as wide as I could, but it was too big and heavy.

After some time, when I realized she was not going to give me her milk, I pulled back to appreciate her breasts instead of biting and sucking on them. Her nipples were coated with my saliva, and her breasts were heaving from excitement.

Then she undid the knot holding her Shalwar, and let it slide down her hips, revealing herself to me in her beautiful naked glory. Her pussy was shaved clean.

I leaned back and observed her beauty, and I was overcome with awe. Here she was, my dearest Ammi, standing naked in front of me. She appeared like an angel, a work of art, with her royal face, enormous gorgeous breasts, and erect nipples, and clean pussy, glistening with moisture.

When I took my hand down to it, my fingers came away wet. I licked my fingers, tasting her juices, and whispered, "Subhanallah." Then I used my thumb and forefinger to separate the cunt lips apart. I buried my face between her legs and began licking her pussy and the little knob there. She spread her legs a little to make it easier for me and I began licking it vigorously and softly biting it. Ammi started panting and moaning.

I slid my tongue into her cunt, as far as it would go, and she let out a loud moan. I kept lapping at her sex like once I'd seen a dog licking a bitch, and soon her breathing became like she she had just run a race. Suddenly, she tightened her hold on my head, and a torrent of warm cunt juice poured into my mouth.

I drank her juices greedily, holding her by her hips, not letting a single drop fall to the floor.

"I want you inside me," she said, motioning at me with her fingers, and lay back on the bed with her knees bent and creamy thighs spread wide for me.

I lowered myself above her, and placed the head of my swollen dick at the entrance of her moist pussy.

"Now, slowly, enter me," she instructed.

She parted her legs a little further as she looked up into my eyes, and bit her lower lip in anticipation.

Slowly, I inserted the head of my dick into her pussy. I let my cock rest there for a moment as I sensed her wetness engulfing my dick.

Then, I started pushing deeper into her, closing my eyes at the wonderful sensation.

"Yes, my baby," she moaned as more and more of me entered her.

She breathed, ", Salmannn!" as I pushed in completely and buried all of my cock into her cunt.

"Salmann." she breathed when I was fully inside her and pushing against the top of her pussy, in a perfect fit. Ammi's cunt felt hot like an oven.

"I'm back in my mother's womb," I thought, when I was completely inside her.

I stayed like that for some time, and Ammi pulled me close and kissed my lips.

I slowly pulled out, till only the tip was inside, and pushed in again, faster than before, making my Ammi gasp.

I continued to move in and out. She closed her eyes, and both her hand held my by my hips, to assist me in my pumping motion.

As she began to buck her hips back to meet my thrusts, I began thrusting inside faster and harder.

When my speed increased, my dick pulsated in her pussy so that I knew I wouldn't last long. As I slid in and out of her pussy, she began to move her hips quicker and faster in time with mine. Her mouth began to erupt with a deep moan. As we rocked together in synchrony, she drew me further closer to her. Her groans became increasingly louder. She was crying uncontrollably now, "Yes, yes. Oh, Salman, please, please, please, please, please, please, please," with each thrust of mine. Writhing in ecstasy, raked her nails across my broad back.

Ammi's breasts jiggled violently as her entire body shook. My cock pumped in and out of her cunt, gleaming with her secretions and deeply penetrating her body every time.

Then suddenly, she came with a tremble and moaned loudly as she climaxed and pulled me closed to her. I thrust in one last time, as deep as possible, as I too started spurting into her pussy as her vaginal muscles tightened around my cock.We both stayed like that for a long time, and when I pulled out slowly, some of our combined secretions spilling out from her pussy.

Exhausted, I collapsed on my Ammi's body, and she wrapped her arms around me and hugged me tightly to herself.

So since then, my Ammi and I continue to make love every day. Her complete attitude towards me changed. She now sees me as a man, not a boy.

After a couple of months, she told me she was pregnant. And the child was mine.

"How do you know?" I asked.

"I know," she replied, and kissed me.

My official father came on holiday from the Gulf six months later, when Ammi's pregnancy was well evident with her growing belly.

He pretended to be happy, and said, "Allah ki den hai" (it is God's gift). I don't know if Ammi told her or he guessed it, or maybe I was imagining it, but the way he looked at me changed. He went back to the Gulf after a couple of weeks.

When Ammi delivered, I was by her side and held my child in my arms when the nurse gave him to me.

Soon after he was born, when I said we must whisper the Kalma in his ears, as is the custom for new-born babies, my Ammi said no.

When I asked her why, she just said, "No."

My baby is one year old now, and quite healthy like any other child his age.

Sometimes, I wonder if I did the wrong thing in having sex with my own Ammi and making her pregnant. But then I remember, it's actually quite common in our community. Fathers having sex with daughters, mothers with sons, fathers-in-law with daughters-in-law, brothers-in-law with sisters-in-law. Maybe that's why my legal father did not react adversely either. Maybe he's also been doing it with his mother or sister.