Growing up an Indian (Black) kid in apartheid South Africa was fraught with many challenges, but once in a while something shone through, this is my s...ory of one such occasion.My Dad was a builder, who took undertook construction work for many of the farmers in the surrounding area to which we resided in. Howick was a pleasant little hamlet in Natal (The last British Outpost). In the seventies, apartheid was at its highest; Blacks lived separately, totally apart from their White counterparts.. When I proposed changing the venue to my place, she hesitated. But I was on my best behavior, so she gave up caution and decided with her gut. Or if not her gut, at least something roughly waist level. She breezily introduced me to her friends, said her goodbyes, and we left the bar together. Outside, I hailed a taxi and checked my watch. It'd be a little tight, but there was time.Her eyebrows went up when I gave the driver a tony Upper East Side address. We bantered a little on the way."My. Ab jo maza aa raha tha ujhe.Main maa ke upar ulta leti hui thi.Maa bhi mera boor chat raha thi.Maine maa ke pure badan ko chat daala .Kabhi uki chuchi,kabhi honth chus rahi thi.Maa bhi mere pure badan ka bhoog kar rahi thio.Hum dono paglon kitarah ek doosre ko chod rahe the.Fir maa ne drawer se do kheer anikala.Maine maa se pucha ki eska kya karogi.Toh maa ne kaha dekhti jaaa.Fir maa ne kheera leke mere boor mein ghusha diya aur aandar bahar karne lagi.Main cheekh uthi dard se.Fir ek kheera. . Then one day i get a call from my mom while i was hanging out with my friends in a local hookah lounge that Kash chachi needs my help to select shoes to send them to my uncle.. I readily accepted it not because i saw a chance to fuck her but because i thought it would be good to help lonely women with two children. So i went to my chachi’s house and played with both of my sister’s for a while. Then i went with chachi for shopping and returned to her home on my bike. (Might have got boring for.