Misc. Erotica ...And My Mother doesn't Remain Ours

[prabudmt]

Welcome back bro... Happy to see your update... But missing hot scenes hurts little... Anyway you will pullback your usual stuffs in upcoming updates

[Waseem990]

welcome back  continue update

[Sexone]

add pic and gif , it connect story with reader directly
#add picture ,gif

describe sexual encounter in details with pic and gifs. Rambo will definetly fit with mummy well. Really excited if rambo marries mummy and breed her unstop at this age

update

[garamrohan]

Thank you prabudmt, Waseem and sexone..

Really appreciate your feedback.

Many people are asking for gif and images. I am finding it hard to take out time to write story. I can't work on images regularly, I have put in few pictures when possible. So, please excuse me on this.
Having said that, feel free to put images of your fantasy, if you have. Thanks.

[prabudmt]

Update bro or at least announce date of update... We are waiting

[garamrohan]

Papa arrived after 3 days as he had planned.


Meanwhile I had called a carpenter and had got the backdoor lock fixed. I had arranged my mummy’s closet well and had to shop big for the lost fruits, but despite that I was to be held responsible by Papa.

One good thing had happened, though. During my absence Rambo had returned and had taken his sack with him. I don’t know what panic it would have caused if my papa had seen it. 

That morning, Aditya and I were studying in the outer room. When papa returned to us after using the washroom, his face was distressed. It didn’t take me longer to understand his alert eyes had taken note of the fixed door.  And I was standing there in dilemma, either way I was to get scolded, fixing the lock had not saved me from that. 

“How come you are so irresponsible?” He yelled in his usual tone. 

“But papa, someone had literally ‘broken’ into our house, what could I have done to prevent that?” I panicked.  

“Easy…” Aditya pressed my hand.

But by that time papa had disappeared inside muttering something. 

“He is always like that..” I complained in panic, looking at the book with emptiness; my eyes moistened.

“Ignore it, Mate. He scolds because he cares. It's luck in itself to have someone to scold you.” His voice carried the grief and we busied ourselves back into the study.

—-

Aditya was not a frequent visitor at our house. Mostly we used to meet outside the house. But it was also a strange co-incident him being present when mummy returned, bringing Jiju and Di with her.

This time Jiju was carrying his personal car with him because he was going to stay here for two weeks till Di’s exam was over. That’s why I was at home only, solving high stake mathematical sums – actually pretending to be solving the sums. My mind was occupied by the thought about taking Jiju’s help to teach that bastard Rambo a lesson of life. I had thought about it many times, but had not reached any concrete plan. Sometimes I used to feel that I was overthinking. The way Rambo was creating trouble for mummy and how bold he had become recently, tussle between Jiju and Rambo was bound to happen. 

I heard a car parking in the verandah and I ran towards the door.

“Hey Champ..” Jiju walked out of the car with his charm and waved to me.

I ran to get luggages as mummy and Di also walked out. 

“This much luggage? Are you planning to stay here forever?” I winked at Di.

“So what? This is still my house, isn't it?” She spoke gravely and everybody smiled.

“Whose this guest? Your friend?” Mummy asked in her sweet voice as she saw Aditya calmly standing at the door. 

Both mummy and Di were in beautiful saree and in the morning sunlight were looking pious and modest like unearthly. I saw Aditya step back, his face showing a tint of shyness, and he went back and sat at the couch we were sitting earlier. I put all the luggage inside and came back to join Aditya again. 

“So champ, how's the study going? Hope you haven’t forgotten the challenge to secure admission to the college Papa ji had aspired for you?” He winked.

“Jiju… Don’t become another papa. That one man is more than enough.” I joked in a low voice and we both laughed.

Aditya didn't seem to like the joke. With creases to his forehead he pieced his neck back into the book, while mummy stepped out.

“What's your name, beta?” saying so she had approached us and she caressed his face with both her hands. Aditya was startled and overwhelmed. He just kept looking at me once and then at mummy. I could understand being an orphan he might have not experienced the affection; and mummy was an angel who had always showered her love on everyone. 

“He's Aditya... He's a bit shy, Mummy,” I said before turning to Jiju. “We're good friends, though everything between us somehow turns into a competition.”  But when I completed the sentence, I could see that Jiju was looking with wide eyes and slightly open mouth towards my mummy who had bent to talk with Aditya and me. From the position of Jiju, it seemed he was looking at her saree covered bums only.

—
“Why bring them, I will feel awkward.” Mummy was talking in a low voice with Di. 

“Don’t be a silly, mummy. They won’t even understand. We can ask them to roam around the market while we finish our shopping.” 

I could sense my earlobes heating up. In the afternoon I had told mummy of the robbery and also to check if something is missing as whole the stuff from the closet had been scrambled when I had seen it first. I perfectly knew that all her undies are missing now and she needs to get at least a couple of pairs as soon as possible. I was sure they were talking about that only.

Another thing, when I told her of somebody breaking into home, her face turned white like a dead person. She didn’t speak any further, but I knew she had guessed the truth. Rambo’s obsession for her had been turning out to be riskier day by day.

She became haunted by that fear and worry so much that she was absent minded for the whole day. Di and Jiju thought she was worrying about someone breaking into the house. So they tried to calm her, telling its normal for a thief to break if he knows a house is locked for a long period. It won’t be a dacoit gang to attack an occupied house. Little did they know about the goon who had stolen mummy’s sleep all these days.  

She kept making mistakes the whole day, and that was okay. But the grave mistake – something for which she was to charge very costly – She did miss adding sugar in papa’s tea. 

And that initiated absolutely rubbish cry from my father’s mouth. We siblings were but used to his unnecessarily aggression over our poor mummy and us.

“Papa… Calm down.” Di touched his arm from behind.

“What calm down?” Now it was Di’s turn. But she gathered all courage and spoke up, “Not in front of Jitesh.” That closed papa’s mouth temporarily, but he immediately left the house. I knew he would have tea at a particular tea stall now.

“Is he sane?...” Jiju couldn’t control his anger, “Disgusting..” saying that he went inside.

“Now you don’t start it…” Di ran behind him.

—


It was 6:30 PM in the evening. All four of us were at the market. I remembered our earlier visits to the market and how much fun we had. We were enjoying our time, chitchatting and making fun of each other. We had a snack at the same spot we had chosen last time. And like last time, this time as well, Jiju opted for the Paav Bhaji – after mummy said she wanted to have one.  

I noticed mummy poking Di and both of them stood up. Di told us to enjoy the food while they did the rest of the shopping. 

“What else is left, let me come with you, dear?” He offered the company.

“No.. No.. It's ladies' things. You will get bored.” Di answered and both of them disappeared.

I was enjoying the tasty, hot dosa when Jiju patted my back and said, “You have it. I will come in 5 mins.” He had become restless since Di and mummy had left and I was damn sure Jiju was to follow them. So it was obvious for me to follow Jiju.

I was walking behind Jiju, keeping enough distance between us so that he won’t notice me or I could quickly hide if he turns back. He followed the ladies who entered the undergarment shop. It was not a big, flashy one as you can imagine a town in the late 90’s. But it still looked to have a large collection. I wondered how Jiju could be this bold. He very openly went there and stood beside them.

“Why are you here?” Di panicked.

“I am done with the food, so I just thought to join you. Is there any problem?” He was talking very calmly. I was listening to this hiding behind another stall next to it. 

“You are impossible!” Di hissed, while mummy was standing calmly there. God! How awkward she might be feeling to purchase undergarments in front of her son-in-law.”

“No Didi… That size is not available. Can avail it for you next week.” The shopkeeper said.

“Leave it. We will look elsewhere..” Di said in panic and pulled mummy by shoulder along with her.

“And Jitesh… Do wait for us in the stall. We will meet you there.” That was a stern warning from Di not to follow them.

Jiju kept staring at them as they disappeared in the crowd. And he whistled, turned back to the shopkeeper and taunted, “What kind of merchant you are? Don’t you keep enough stock?”  I moved closer, still ensuring I am out of the visibility to hear them carefully.

“That’s not the case, Saheb. Don’t you see these two 10x10 rooms are full of material. I was not having the sizes madam demanded.”

“What sizes?” Jiju’s voice was in controlled eagerness.

“I have all sizes of panties, but the 36-DD brassieres were out of stock.” 

“Mmm.. 36-DD… Interesting…” He turned back saying this. And I could see his face glowing with strange excitement.

[garamrohan]

Thank you everyone for the patience. Enjoy the posted update! More updates coming tomorrow. Cheers!

[prabudmt]

Interesting update... But hero of the story rambo missing...hope he will make entry in next update.

[garamrohan]

The morning was calm. It was a Monday, and Di had a big exam starting today but she had had good preparation for the first paper, so she was just relaxing in the backyard, brushing her hair and talking with mummy. Jiju had finished his bath and was walking around in his vest. Papa called from inside the house for breakfast and Di went to attend to him, as mummy was having a broom in her hand. 


It was only me, Jiju and mummy in the backyard. And I noticed Jiju taking sneak peeks at mummy trying to engage me in his smart talks. 

Suddenly, Jiju noticed the beehive by the bedroom window. It had turned quite large now. 

“Let's have honey for breakfast, champ.” He said and asked me to look for a bucket and a long rod to collect it. Mummy who was cleaning the yard nearby overheard the plan. She panicked and warned us to stay away, telling us papa would get angry if he found out what we were to do. We ignored her. We wanted the honey, so we started trying to reach it.

“Would you have breakfast now, Jitesh?” Di enquired as she stepped out of the kitchen and suddenly she yelled, “Don’t… don’t touch it. Get back.”

“What?..” Jiju reacted with irritation.

But Di did not get a chance to answer him. The noise and activity caught Papa’s attention and he stepped out from beside Di. 

“What are you doing? Damad ji? Get away, it’s risky.” He said, taking utmost care that his voice won’t feel rude. But I knew how angry he had become, and he was to vent it out on someone. Instead of being mad at us for messing with the bees, Papa used it as an excuse to yell at Mummy – his favorite and easiest target. 

“What a foolish woman you are? Can’t you tell them not to go near that beehive?” It was clearly unfair. But no one intervened. However, I noticed Jiju’s fingers moved inside into a tight fist and his face was showing clear hate for papa’s behavior.  

Papa left for work shortly after, still grumbling. This was one more bad morning for mummy. It has been happening quite often for a couple of years. And I had got some hint of the reason as I had seen and heard my parents talk in the night, which I shouldn’t have witnessed at all. 

Jiju drove Di to her exam hall, and I stayed home. By the time he returned, the house felt calm again. Mummy was used to Papa’s temper and always moved on from his outbursts quickly. When Jiju walked in, I was busy studying, so I didn't pay much attention. He headed straight to the kitchen where Mummy was cooking. Since it went quiet for a long time, I got curious, tiptoed to the edge of the corridor, and hid in the shadows where I could watch them.
Jiju was leaning against the wall, silent. Mummy noticed him and asked, “Damad ji, did you drop Meenakshi off safely?”

He just hummed in response, looking troubled. Then, he spoke, his voice sharp and sincere: “How can Papa behave so badly with you? I didn't like it at all.”
Mummy offered a forced smile, keeping her tone light. “It’s just his nature. I don’t let it bother me.” She had always been a devoted wife, brushing off insults to keep the peace.

“Why?” Jiju pressed, his expression filled with a level of concern that caught me off guard. “Why don’t you let it bother you? You don’t deserve this.”

Before Mummy could reply or hide her discomfort, Jiju grew restless. He walked right up to her, took her face in his hands, and kissed her firmly on the lips.
Mummy froze, completely stunned. I stood in the corridor, breathless and horrified, unable to process what I had just seen. It only lasted two seconds, but the air in the room shifted instantly.

Mummy dropped the knife she was holding, trembling. Before she could find her voice, Jiju turned and began walking toward the living room. I quickly stepped into the kitchen, pretending I had just arrived, and asked, “What happened?”

Jiju didn't look at me or answer; he just brushed past me. Mummy, clearly shaken and trying to hide her fear, stammered, “N-nothing, Babu.”

The entire morning had been strange, but that single moment changed everything. I had felt like something was off with Jiju since he arrived, but this was far more complicated and disturbing than I ever could have imagined.

—


The house felt different after that morning. Mummy, usually the anchor of our household, began to drift. She moved through the rooms with a measured, deliberate grace, but her eyes were always focused on the floor or the wall, rarely meeting with Jiju’s. 

She was already troubled with Rambo’s entry in life and with Jiju’s weird advance in the kitchen, she was shocked so much that she had stopped engaging with Jiju. Earlier, Jiju was the type to crack a joke just to see Mummy roll her eyes and smile, a small, private concession in her busy day. Now, when he spoke, she offered only polite, to-the-point answers. She would busy herself with the laundry, the cooking, or the endless cleaning of the house, turning her back to him with a rigidity that was impossible to miss. Jiju seemed to notice, too. He would linger in the living room, a half-smile frozen on his face, waiting to have words with mummy, but it never came over a couple of days.

One stifling afternoon, when the heat seemed to settle into the very foundations of the house, Mummy walked into my room. She looked tired, and even more disturbed that sleep wouldn't fix her mood.

"Babu," she said, her voice soft but firm. "I am going to the ghat for the temple. Come with me."

I was already halfway through a plan to meet my friends in the evening. The thought of walking slowly to the temple, standing through prayers, and then sitting in silence was the last thing I wanted. I felt a surge of familiar teenage impatience. "Can’t you go alone? Or maybe ask someone else? I really wanted to go to the playground."

"Please," she said. It wasn't a request; it was a plea. She looked at me, and for a fleeting second, I saw a glimpse of her fear to go outside on her own that I had been witnessing since Rambo came to her life. And Jiju’s recent deed had made her uncomfortable all the time, that too, in our own house. I realized then that this wasn't about the temple or prayer; it was about seeking protection outside of the house, as she would calmly sit in the seclusion and get rid of her overwhelming feelings.

I sighed, dropping my plan and nodded yes.
As we were preparing to leave, Jiju emerged from the guest room. He had been reading, but he looked up the moment he heard our voices. He saw Mummy gathering her small bag and then looked at me, his brow furrowed with a practiced, casual concern.

"Going to the ghat?" he asked, his tone too light, too forced. "The heat is brutal today. Why don't you let me drive you both? It’ll save you the walk."

Mummy didn't even turn around. She kept her back to him, tightening the strap of her purse. "No," she said, her voice cold and final. "We prefer to walk."

Jiju’s hand, which had been reaching for his car keys on the hallway table, paused. He stood still, the silence stretching thin between them. He clearly wanted to join us, probably wanted to have words with mummy and clear the wall that had formed between them. But he saw the set of her shoulders, the way she refused to acknowledge his existence.

"Alright," he said quietly, his voice losing its forced cheer. "Be careful."

[garamrohan]

More updates tonight! Enjoy!

[garamrohan]

The walk to the temple was long, and for the most part, we were silent. When we finally reached the ghat, the atmosphere changed. The smell of the river – a mix of silt, aquatic life, and incense – floated up toward us. The steps were crowded with pilgrims, but there were quieter areas further down, where the stone ledges overlooked the thick, overgrown greenery that bordered the water.

Mummy was clearly looking for a similar secluded place. She joined her hand before the god from the outside. She further walked past the main temple entrance, bypassing the queue of devotees, and as I followed her, I noticed that she was on a road to the informal garden that had been maintained by the bank of the river. I followed her until we reached a secluded bench tucked away beneath the shade of an old banyan tree. From here, the city sounds were muffled, replaced by the rhythmic lapping of the river and the distant, shrill cries of birds in the trees.

She sat down, exhaling a breath she seemed to have been holding for days. Her hands were folded in her lap, her knuckles white. I stood by the edge of the ghat, looking toward the main road, still checking my watch, hoping that perhaps we would leave soon so I could catch the tail end of the match.

"Sit," she whispered, patting the cold sheet of the bench.

I sat, but I was restless. I tapped my foot against the ground, the sound echoing in the relative quiet. She didn't look at me; she was staring out at the vibrant, tangled greenery that dipped into the river and was probably thinking of all the things that had happened to her so far.

"Mummy," I started, feeling a sudden need to break the tension, "Shall I bring some snacks to eat?"

She turned to look at me, and her expression told me that she wasn’t interested in eating. But she would have liked the privacy if I am not sitting next to her but somewhere around the temple area. 

“Bring it for yourself, Babu," she said, her voice barely audible over the river. "I want to just sit here quietly."

“Stay here, Mummy,” I said, “I’m going to find something to eat. I’ll be back in five minutes.”

I took a turn by the temple, crossed pilgrims lines and started climbing the steps toward the street vendors. I had reached half-way up, when I ran head-on into Jiju. He was leaning against a pillar, his eyes locked on something far. I turned my face to realize that he was looking at the spot where Mummy sat by the river. He didn’t look like he had just walked over; he looked like he had been stalking her from a distance.

“You’re leaving her alone?” Jiju asked. His voice wasn’t casual. It was sharp, demanding.

“I’m just getting food,” I replied.

“Go meet your friends,” he said, brushing past me without keeping eyes off the place where mummy was sitting. “Or study. I’ll keep her company. She shouldn't be sitting in such a lonely spot anyway.”

His intention hit me like a physical blow. I knew he wasn't merely concerned for her safety; he was seizing an opportunity to relieve tension between them that he has caused. I didn't go for food. I doubled back, creeping through the narrow, dark alleys that ran parallel to the path. I hid behind a thick tree nearby mummy, my heart thumping against my ribs.

Mummy was still on the bench, dense shrubs and trees at her back. I slowly moved inside the dense shrub. I was surely out of sight now. She was staring at the swirling, dark water of the river, her shoulders hunched as if she were carrying the weight of the entire world. She looked tired, vulnerable, and completely lost in a haze of misery.

Then, I heard heavy, uncoordinated footsteps. I had laid down on my stomach and my eyes were expecting Jiju’s appearance soon. 

But… He was not Jiju.

Rambo was standing there. A man known to every kid in the neighborhood by this name only — a psycho, dirty beggar to everyone and a sexual weirdo in addition to that for my mummy . He staggered toward the bench, his eyes bloodshot, a jagged grin plastered on his face full of lust. 

My breath hitched. Was I going to witness another forceful exploitation of my mummy? but then I saw Jiju. He was standing twenty feet away, his body coiled, watching. He wasn't rushing to help. He was just waiting and observing. 

Rambo reached the bench and hovered over Mummy. She didn't hear him until he slammed his hand down on the stone beside her. She jumped, letting out a sharp, strangled cry.

“No cry... No cry… I want maja.. Lots of maja,” Rambo slurred, leaning in, his ugly face inches from hers. He reached out to grab her arm, his fingers digging into her skin.

Mummy shrieked, scrambling back, but she was trapped between the bench and Rambo, who had bent over her. “Leave me alone!” she gasped, her voice trembling. “Get away!”

Rambo shook her by shoulder, grunting and denying to leave her. 

In that heartbeat, Jiju moved.

He didn't run; he exploded. He covered the distance in three long, brutal strides, his face twisted into a mask of pure, concentrated rage. He didn't shout a warning. He slammed his shoulder into Rambo’s chest, sending the man sprawling backward against the stone wall.

Before Rambo could even find his footing, Jiju was on him. 

It wasn't a fight; it was a demolition. 

Jiju’s fist connected with Rambo’s jaw with a sickening crack. Rambo crumpled, but Jiju grabbed him by the collar, hauled him up, and drove a knee into his stomach.

“Don’t you ever touch her,” Jiju roared, his voice echoing off the temple walls.

Rambo swung wildly, but Jiju ducked and landed a savage blow to his temple. Rambo fell, blood streaming from his nose, his head hitting the stone floor with a dull thud. He tried to scramble away, but Jiju pinned him, his knuckles white as he hammered blow after blow into the man’s ribs.

“Damad ji, stop!” mummy screamed, “You’re going to kill him!”

A few of the people walking nearby started shouting. A couple of them ran to intervene, their faces blurred with shock. They started pulling at Jiju’s arms. It took them a lot of effort to pry him off Rambo. Jiju was breathing hard, his chest heaving, his clothes disheveled. He looked like a man who had finally found an outlet for the poison that had been simmering inside him for days.

“He is a mad man, mister. Why are you fighting with him? Let it go!” Someone tried to convince Jiju. 

Rambo lay still, a crumpled heap of broken skin and heavy, ragged breathing. Someone started calling for an ambulance. Rambo was beaten very badly. He had got damaged mentally more than physical ruin.

The moment he caught his breath, he somehow managed to stand on his legs and rushed towards the temple. Two men followed him advising to stop and go to hospital.

Mummy was still on the bench, shocked by the sudden attack by Rambo. She was shaking violently, her eyes fixed on Jiju.

“Are you hurt?” he asked, his voice deceptively calm.

Mummy couldn't speak. She just nodded, her eyes wide with a mixture of terror and something else—a sudden, horrifying realization of the man she was avoiding had just saved her.

As the paramedics loaded the semi-conscious Rambo onto a stretcher, the crowd began to whisper. They looked at Jiju not as a hero, but as a man whose violence had been far too efficient, far too practiced.

I lay hidden there, paralyzed. Looking at mummy and Jiju who had now taken a seat beside her. I realized then that the fight wasn't unexpected at all. Jiju was indeed a man we needed in our life to get rid of Rambo. But while this was true, it didn’t prevent me thinking – “but at the cost of what?”
---

The sun was on the horizon and it was already getting dark. There was nobody around, not even a handful of people that had arrived when Rambo got beaten. The evening arati’s distant bells were now the only sound, muffled and mournful.


I remained pressed under the excellent cover of the shrubs, my breath hitching in my throat. From here, I could see them. Mummy was sitting on the bench, her silhouette rigid, looking like a statue etched in sorrow. She had dressed in a beautiful pink saree and blouse and looked extremely alluring despite being so tense. Jiju was accompanying her, his posture no longer the aggressive predator from the fight, but something soft, patient, but dangerously bold.

He reached out, his hand hovering near her shoulder before finally coming to rest there. His touch was light, a silent promise of comfort. Mummy recoiled slightly, her face turned away, but she did not pull away completely.

"I didn’t come here to hurt anyone," Jiju began, his voice a low, melodic murmur that barely carried over the lapping river. "I came because I couldn't stand the silence you built between us. Every time you turn your back, every time you pretend I’m a ghost in your house, it kills me."

Mummy finally looked at him, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "You don't understand. Everything is complicated. You are Meenakshi's husband... you are family. You should have thought a thousand times before acting so wrongly in the kitchen."

"I am a man who sees you," Jiju interrupted, his thumb tracing a slow, rhythmic line against her shoulder. "I see the way you carry the weight of that house. I see the way Papa ji treats you like a servant, and it makes my blood boil. Do you think I don't feel for Meenakshi? I do. But what I feel for her is pure love, sensuality. What I feel for you... it’s different. It's more than that, It’s a mixed feeling – of ache and care for your suffering, and intense love for you, Mummy ji."

"Stop," she whispered, though her voice lacked conviction. "It is wrong. It is immoral."

"Is it immoral to want to see you smile?" He leaned closer, his proximity stripping away the remaining defenses she had kept up since that morning in the kitchen. "I am seeing you all these days, terrified by that Papa ji. Do you really think I’m like him? I protected you because I felt you were mine to protect, I protected you from that madman and will not back away from fighting the world for you. I want to be the one who lightens your load, not adds to it."

Mummy stood up abruptly, adjusting her slipping purse on her shoulder. "I have to go. Everyone will be waiting for us.. Where is Babu? Have you brought Minakshi home?", she worried.

“I had asked Babu to go home when I met him on the stairs. And papa is to bring Minakshi home today.” Jiju said in a calm tone. 

Mummy tightened the purse under her arm and took a step toward the temple but Jiju was faster. He caught her hands, his grip firm but gentle, pulling her back toward the bench. The intimacy of the gesture made my head spin. He didn't force her, but he held her attention with a magnetic intensity that seemed to paralyze her.

 "We are in public," she complained, her voice now a fragile tremor.

"Let's stay together for some more time. Nobody is here to watch us," he murmured, his gaze dropping to her lips before flickering back to her eyes. "And even if they were, I wouldn't care. I have spent months watching you wither under that roof. I only want to see you happy. I want to give you the love you were denied for all these years."

Mummy’s resistance was crumbling. The logic of her world, the "pativrata" ideals she clung to was being eroded by the sheer force of his sincerity.

Jiju smiled, a soft, indulgent expression. He said in a firm voice. "I have so much more to say to you, and I don't want to keep it for later."

He again put his hand lightly on her shoulders, embracing her decently – a gesture of ownership and care that she didn't fight. My heart hammered against my ribs as I kept watching, drawn by a morbid, forbidden curiosity.

Inside the canopy, the light was very dim now. Jiju turned to her, his face softening as he took her face in his hands. He wasn't the man who had fought Rambo; he was gentle, his movements reverent, as if he were handling something sacred. He leaned in, his lips brushing her cheek, a delicate, lingering touch that seemed to melt the last of her resolve.

I watched, frozen, as his hand slid over her upper arm, his fingers brushing against the soft, delicate skin of her arm. He whispered something in her ear – maybe a secret, something that made her eyes flutter shut. 

Then, he moved to her lips, and this time, the kiss was not the impulsive, shocking act of the kitchen. It was slow, deliberate, and deeply romantic.

Mummy’s hands came up, tentatively resting on his chest, whether to push him away or pull him closer, I couldn't tell. She surrendered. As his lips moved against hers, I saw her body sag, the years of hidden fatigue and unspoken hurt finally finding an outlet. He wasn't just a man seeking intimacy; he was also filling a void that had been hollowed out by silence and coldness.

He pulled back only an inch, his forehead resting against hers, his breath hitching. He whispered something I couldn't hear, his fingers continuing to caress her jawline with a tenderness that made my skin flush. In that moment, the boundary that mummy had maintained between them had completely evaporated. It got replaced by a raw, undeniable connection between two of them that made the rest of the world feel irrelevant.

The air grew heavy and humid, charged with a tension that felt final. They were no longer typical mother-in-law and son-in-law; they were two souls who had found refuge in the very relationship they weren't supposed to seek. And as I turned away, the image of them – tangled in the shadows of the vines, kissing full of love and intimacy, and finding warmth in each other's arms – burned itself into my memory.

I had got the answer of the question poking into my head sometime back. What was the cost of getting rid of Rambo? 

This was the cost.

[garamrohan]

That's all for this week guys. I will post next updates on coming weekends.

[garamrohan]

Thank you prabudmt and Lousy1995 for your comment and likes.

[StoryReader1]

Please continue

[prabudmt]

Twists and turns coming in the story makes it more interesting... Still have to wait for the weekend... Can't wait for that..

[saka1981]

excellent story going well ... grt writing .