an Asian describes his childhood as he spend his life in Europe
My name is Amir. I am Asian but living here in one of the European countries. this is the story of my childhood and my mom. let me first tell you about her .
Her body was pure temptation wrapped in the quiet life of an Asian housewife. In her thirties, with one young son at home, she carried a full, womanly figure that made every glance linger. Standing at 5’6″ with creamy white skin and a cascade of long dark hair, she looked soft and inviting. Her cheeks were plump and kissable, her lips naturally pink and glistening, and when her tongue slipped out it was wet, eager, and skilled at deep, hungry kisses.
Her breasts were heavy and round, a generous 38DD that swayed with every movement. The pale skin of her chest framed delicate pink areolas, and her nipples would swell and puff out the moment they were touched or sucked. Between her slightly thick, soft thighs—smooth from shaving but often dotted with short, fine hairs—lay a perfectly straight slit. Her outer lips stayed closed like a secret, hiding the delicate inner folds and that sensitive pink clit beneath.
The one time her legs were spread wide for another man, everything was exposed: those small, flushed inner lips parted slightly, and her clit stood hard and throbbing, swollen from years of secret, desperate fingering whenever she was alone.
Honestly speaking, I caught her naked more than a few times, and every single glimpse burned itself into my memory.
When we were alone she would lock the front door, step into the shower, then come out with one towel twisted around her wet hair and another barely clinging to her body. She would walk straight to the bedroom, slip on her pink briefs first, then drop the towel from her chest. Those heavy, round breasts would bounce free, the soft flesh settling with a gentle sway, her pink nipples stiff and pointing upward from the cool air. I ached to wrap my lips around them, to feel how puffy they would get once they were sucked, but I knew that chance had already passed.
The moment that really made my cock throb was when she reached for the Always pads on the shelf outside the bathroom. She would peel the backing, push her trousers down to her knees, hook her thumbs into the waistband of her panties and tug them forward. That was when I saw everything: the straight, slightly dotted line of her pussy, the short fine hairs catching the light, the outer lips still closed like a secret. She would press the pad into place, smooth the fabric back up, and the view would disappear—until the next time.
I saw her completely bare in the shower too, water streaming over her white skin, over the curve of her 38DD breasts and down between her thighs. Sometimes the strip between her legs was freshly shaved, smooth and glistening; other times it carried that light dusting of short hair that made my mouth water. And once, when she was with the man she was seeing, her legs were spread wide on the bed, the same straight line now parted to show those small pink inner lips and the hard, swollen clit that years of secret fingering had made so sensitive.
I have big obsession with lingerie . so I used to sniff her bra as I love boobs so much and rub my cock on her panties. I would wear them sometimes and jerk my cock in it .
I have seen her having affair with one man only . our Asian women would be a bit more shy and not use to have boyfriend, but they do love sex but must be very discreet.
We had only just settled into that quiet European suburb when I was still small ready started going to school. Mom stayed home, cooking, cleaning, and keeping the apartment spotless while Dad worked long shifts at the company. The man who eventually became her lover ran the little corner shop two blocks away. He had been living in the country for years, spoke the language fluently, and had a warm tan that made his smile stand out. He stood a few inches taller than Mom, always dressed neatly, and quickly became the neighbor Dad trusted most.
Because Dad relied on him for paperwork and advice about the new system at work, the shop owner started coming over for dinner once or twice a week. In our Asian community most women kept their distance from outsiders, but Mom made an exception for him. She would greet him at the door with a genuine smile, chat easily while she cooked, and serve him the dishes she knew he liked. He was married, yet his wife and children remained back home, so our apartment became a second home for him.
The shop owner took full advantage of every moment alone with Mom.
It all began when Grandma fell ill and Dad had to fly back home to care for her. The airfare was expensive, so the plan was for us to stay behind. Khan, the shop owner, offered Dad financial help, but Dad politely declined and said he would reach out if needed.
Dad left, and two days later Khan knocked on our door. Mom answered and welcomed him inside. They sat at the table, chatting while I played around the house. Mom served tea and snacks. Their voices dropped to a soft, intimate murmur. Mom asked me to play in my room.
When I came out later, Khan was sitting very close to her, his hand slipped under her dress, fingers stroking the soft inner skin of her thigh. They pulled apart the moment they noticed me. Khan said he would bring takeaway that night. I was excited for the quarter-pounder burger.
He returned after dark. After we ate, Mom went to throw the bags away. Khan said he needed to wash his hands and followed her into the kitchen. When I walked in, I saw him pressed tight against her back, his hips grinding into her ass while his right hand disappeared down the front of her trousers and inside her panties. His fingers were moving slowly, rubbing her clit. Mom’s eyes were half-closed, her lips parted as she whispered back to him, clearly enjoying every stroke.
They jumped apart when they saw me. Later Mom told me not to mention it to anyone. That was the first time I witnessed how far their secret touches had already gone.
Another evening Khan came over to play. He chased me around the living room, roaring like a lion, and when he caught me he pretended to bite my shoulder. We both laughed until he said the lion was going to attack Mom next. Mom squealed and ran into the spare room. Khan told me to stay put and went after her.
I crept to the doorway and saw them on the floor. Khan was on top of her, his mouth fastened to her cheek in a playful bite. Then he tugged her top and bra down, freeing her left breast. He latched onto the pink nipple and sucked hard, his cheeks hollowing. Mom’s back arched, her fingers in his hair. I stepped away and let them have their moment.
A few nights later I woke to the sound of the front door. Mom slipped out of our bed, thinking I was asleep, and let Khan inside. They moved to the spare room. The door clicked shut, but the keyhole gave me a clear view.
They stripped fast. Mom lay back on the mattress, legs spread. Her pussy was freshly shaved, outer lips parted, inner folds glistening. Khan’s tan cock, thick and veined, pushed straight into her bare cunt. He fucked her in long, steady strokes, missionary style, skin slapping skin. Mom moaned and wrapped her legs around his waist.
After a while he pulled out, grabbed a tube of lube, and told her to roll over. She hesitated, then got on all fours. He squeezed clear gel over her asshole and his cock, worked two fingers inside her, then pressed the head against her rim. Mom gasped as he sank in, stretching her. Once he was buried to the balls he started pounding—fast, rough, relentless. Mom’s tits swung beneath her, her moans turning into sharp cries every time his hips slammed forward. He gripped her waist, drove deeper, and kept going until his rhythm broke and he emptied himself inside her ass.
The bathroom door stood half-open the next morning. Steam rolled out into the hallway while I played quietly on the living-room floor. Inside, Khan had Mom bent forward under the running water, her hands braced on the tiled wall. Her wet hair clung to her back as he gripped her hips and drove his cock into her from behind, the wet slap of skin echoing against the tiles.
He thrust hard and deep, water streaming over both of them. Mom’s heavy breasts swung beneath her with every push. Her shaved pussy gripped him, pink folds stretched around his thick shaft. He kept a steady rhythm, hips smacking her ass, until his breathing changed. At the last second he yanked his cock free. Thick white cum spurted from the tip, the first heavy ropes splashing straight into her open cunt. More followed, running down her inner thighs in long streaks. Khan grabbed his shaft, pumped it fast, and fired two final jets that landed across the soft flesh of her thighs.
Mom stayed bent over, panting. Cum dripped from her freshly fucked hole and slid along her legs. She reached between her thighs, spread her lips, and let the shower spray rinse inside her. She worked two fingers in and out, washing the thick mess away until the water ran clear. Khan watched, still half-hard, then stepped close again and kissed the back of her neck.
They stayed under the spray a while longer, touching and kissing, before finally turning the water off. i heard the quiet laughter and the soft sounds of towels being used, then the bathroom door clicked shut.
This is what I have seen among them , what else might have they done in private life I don’t know but I assume they had a nice sexual time.
I have attached a few pictures of her I found a while ago and kept them secretly with myself .
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