The neat double storey house was located on a wide, eucalyptus tree lined street, in North Nazimabad, Karachi

The street was neatly cut in two halves by a storm drain that over the years had become more a shallow depression, then an actual flood defence.

The house was painted white with a neat hedge row in front of the high boundary wall, with a large gate, painted dark green, that lead to the car porch.

Nineteen year old Taimur had come home, from college late. He had showered and changed into his sleeping shalwar (loose baggy trousers) and a vest, and lay down on his bed.

Taimur lived with his parents, one brother and two sisters. The eldest sister Alia (22) was married with one baby girl aged 14 months; and then there was his sister Nabila aged 18, just finished high school. His brother Nasir was a newly appointed, junior officer in the Ministry of Trade

His arms folded behind his head. He watched the ceiling fan spinning franticly, fighting a losing battle with the afternoon heat, of a breezeless April day.

His mind went back to the reason he was late getting home these days. He had been at Zain’s large, luxury bungalow in the posh phase 5 Gizri D.H.A. suburb of Karachi.

Zain was a college friend from a wealthy and socially active family. The only son, he was given almost total freedom to do what he wanted.

It was six months now, since Zain had first invited him over. As they had driven up the hill towards the leafy shaded road where Zain lived, Zain had asked Taimur what he thought of his (Zain’s) mother.

Taimur had met her several times over the years he had known Zain, and had a very favourable opinion of her.

“Auntie bahut achi aur sweet hai” (Auntie is very nice and sweet) Taimur answered

“Numkin be” (Salty too) Zain had said with a sly smile.

Taimur had been puzzled by that answer but left it.

Auntie Zoobia had been at home and had greeted Taimur with a smile as Zain had leaned in close to her and kissed her on the lips. It was not a passionate kiss, but to Taimur, who had never seen any man kiss a woman before, it had been shocking.

Taimur had followed Zain into his room, where Zain had casually turned on the big screen T.V. and flipped to a cable music channel.

Taimur had sat down on the chair and watched as sexy, barely dressed girls danced provocatively …. No wonder his father would not allow a T.V. in his home.

Taimur’s Lund had been hard as an iron rod. His Shalwar tenting up in his lap as he had watched wide eyed as two girls in bikinis moved together provocatively.

“Yaar!” Zain had said “Is ki gaand dekh…kya gaand hai!” (Dude! look at her ass…what an ass).

Taimur had watched the asses move and had felt his cock tip leaking as he watched. His hand had gone to the hard meat in his shalwar and stroked it instinctively.

“Yaar! Yeh dekh!” (Dude! See this....!) Zain had said as Taimur saw him pick up the remote control and click a button.

There on the screen was something that had made Taimur almost cum in his shalwar…

He had watched a long wet cock sliding in and out of a bushy black haired pussy. He had seen porno magazines and so knew what a choot looked like but those magazines had nothing like this.

There in colour was a man fucking a woman….actually screwing in living colour….

The volume had been up and the sounds of the actors panting and groaning had been clearly audible.

Suddenly the cock was pulled out and the man’s hand grabbed it as it had spilled a thick white creamy liquid onto the black bush of the woman he had recently been pumping. The man had then used his cock to rub his cream into the bush as Taimur had seen the woman reach down and dip her fingers in the cum …

The camera shot had switched to the woman, a middle aged woman, licking cum off her fingers as a young man had sucked a nipple topping one of big fat breasts.

Whatever language they had been speaking, one word had been crystal clear…the young man had said ‘mama’

Taimur had looked at Zain in shock “Did he just call her his mother?” He had asked

Zain had his cock in his hands and had been gently stroking it as he smoked a cigarette casually.

Zain had nodded and said “Dono Ma behta hai” (Both are mother and son)

Taimur had cum in his shalwar.

“Yeh na mumkin hai yaar!” (That is not possible) He had protested

Zain had laughed as he had seen the shocked look on Taimur’s face. “Yaar! They’re actors. The story is about incest…you know, Machordye (Mother fucking)

Taimur had watched as the film moved on to a dinner table where a young girl and older man joined the two who had just been fucking in a civilised dinning scene.

“Look” Zain had said “That is the father and sister of the boy ….the father has already had the daughter…, twice…should I rewind it for you?”

“This is only a movie right?” Taimur had asked slowly (Father and daughter? Mother and son?)

Zain had nodded as he said “and in the next scene the sister gets fucked by her brother in the shower. Aur wooh be gaand mai.”(And that too, in the ass)

Taimur had watched as the movie switched to a scene with the brother and sister smooching and squeezing each other in the shower.

Taimur watched as the sister had turned around and bent over, pulling her buttocks apart and revealing her anus.

The brother had wasted no time in aiming his cock at the exposed butt hole and sinking it into his sister.

There had been several scenes after that and Taimur was hard as ever when Zain took him home.

“But these things don’t happen really…do they?’ Taimur had asked.

“Yaar!” Zain had said with a sly smile “Is dunya mai, sub Kutch chaltey. Jub admi gharam hai, doo, kissi ki choot chalengi’ (Dude, in this world, anything goes. a horny guy will fuck any cunt he can get)

Taimur had thought this over carefully and then he had shaken his head.

“Nahin” He had said firmly “Yeh Pakistan mai nahin hosukhta.” (No. This cannot happen in Pakistan)

Zain had looked at him with a mysterious smile and said "Mere bhai, Pakistan mai sub Kutch chalta. Ab bahut masoom ho.’ (My Brother, in Pakistan everything happens. You are just an innocent).

……………………………..

It was Zain who had made Taimur aware of his sister Alia’s sex appeal.

He often dropped Taimur home in his new car after college before picking his mother up from her volunteer work.

Zain always had a cold drink or a cup of tea when he dropped Taimur.

Alia had been home about a week when Zain had seen her for the first time.

She had come into the drawing room holding a tray with cola and snacks on it, and slipping her slippers gracefully off her feet had walked over to Zain and offered him the cola.

She had smiled pleasantly and called him “Bhai” (brother) very correctly.

She did not make eye contact with him, and kept her head fully covered.

Taimur had seen Zain stare at Alia, as she left, and noticed that he smiled that sly smile he used when checking out college chokries (Babes) or watching a hot looking woman cross the street at the traffic lights