Adultery Little sis Anjali and her friends

[kangaani]

Excellent narration

[rajesh93]

Niice picture

[prasannas2001]

Excellent narration

Thank you so much 

[gopinb]

Very nice interesting story. One request, please try to share a bit bigger updates, if possible with pics.

[prasannas2001]

Niice picture

Thank you so much 

[Kaattupoochi]

Rohan should impregnate mamta and give a sibling to Neetu

[prasannas2001]

Very nice interesting story. One request, please try to share a bit bigger updates, if possible with pics.

Thank you so much. Sorry this weekend little bit busy, that's why small update. But usually I give long updates.

[prasannas2001]

Rohan should impregnate mamta and give a sibling to Neetu

Thank you for your suggestion.

[rahul_94]

Nice start

[prasannas2001]

Nice start

Thank you so much.

[prasannas2001]

I will try to post more story bits as a continuation of the current update soon. Please stay tuned 

[prasannas2001]

The days that followed the dinner carried an unusual, almost dreamlike quality for Rohan. Every moment seemed to exist between two worlds, the guilt of knowing he was stepping into dangerous territory, and the excitement of discovering something he had never expected to feel.
 
There was a thrill in the secrecy, in the careful planning, in every small piece of information that brought him closer to Mamta.
 
True to her reluctant promise, Neetu became his unwilling source of information.
 
She never openly encouraged him, and every time she spoke about her mother, there was a hint of discomfort in her voice. But she continued.
 
Their conversations would begin innocently.
 
“Mummy spent the whole afternoon reading her old poetry books today,” Neetu mentioned one evening. “Those books are probably older than me. She gets this strange smile when she reads them… like she is remembering some other life.”
 
Rohan listened carefully, absorbing every word.
 
“Was she happy?” he asked.
 
Neetu paused. “I don’t know. Maybe. Maybe a little sad too.”
 
Another day, she said, “The gardener came today. Mummy spent almost an hour discussing roses with him. She knows every variety by name. It’s funny… she gets so excited talking about flowers.”
 
For Rohan, those details became precious. They were not just pieces of information, they were glimpses into Mamta’s world.
 
A woman who was not just Neetu’s mother, not just someone he had admired from a distance, but someone with her own dreams, passions, and quiet moments.
 
Anjali, meanwhile, had become his enthusiastic partner in this impossible mission.
 
“So let me understand this,” she said one evening, walking around his room with her arms folded. “Your strategy is to become a flower expert because a beautiful woman likes roses?”
 
Rohan smiled. “Not become an expert. Just understand her interests.”

[prasannas2001]

 
Anjali raised an eyebrow.
 
“Rohan, you are studying engineering. Yesterday you didn’t know the difference between a rose and a hibiscus.”
 
“That’s why I need help.”
 
She laughed. “You are unbelievable.”
 
Then she became thoughtful.
 
“But if you want a natural meeting, it has to happen somewhere she feels comfortable. Somewhere she is herself.”
 
“Like where?”
 
“Poetry? Too obvious. A bookstore maybe.”
 
Rohan shook his head.
 
“No. A nursery.”
 
“Why?”
 
“Because that’s where she won’t be pretending. She’ll be in her own world.”
 
Anjali studied him for a moment and smiled.
 
“You have actually thought about this.”
 
Rohan looked away.
 
“Maybe.”
 
“Fine,” she said, laughing. “The great Rohan’s mission begins.”
 
A few days later, the message came.
 
“Mummy is going to Green Haven nursery tomorrow morning around eleven. She wants to buy fertilizer and some new plants.”
 
Rohan read the message twice.
 
The plan was set.
 
 
 
***
 
 
The next morning, Rohan and Anjali reached the nursery twenty minutes early.
 
Green Haven was a beautiful chaos of colors and fragrances. Rows of flowering plants stretched across the large outdoor space, while inside the greenhouse, sunlight filtered through glass panels, falling softly over leaves and petals.
 
Rohan walked through the aisles pretending to examine plants, but his attention was somewhere else.
 
His heart beat faster with every passing minute.
 
Then he saw her.
 
For a moment, everything else seemed to fade.
 
Mamta stood near a collection of rose bushes, carefully examining the small labels attached to each plant.
 
She was dressed simply, yet there was an effortless elegance about her.
 
Her white summer dress moved gently with the breeze, highlighting her graceful posture and the natural confidence with which she carried herself.
 
She did not look like someone who had come merely to buy plants.
 
She looked like she belonged there.
 
The sunlight touched her hair, creating a soft glow around her.

[prasannas2001]

 
Mamta’s expression was focused and peaceful as she leaned closer to inspect a rose, her fingers gently brushing against the leaves without disturbing them.
 
There was something captivating about the way she treated the flowers, with patience, affection, and almost a motherly tenderness.
 
Rohan understood then why Neetu had described this place as her mother’s world.
 
“Wow,” Anjali whispered beside him.
 
Rohan looked at her.
 
“What?”
 
“She really does love roses.”
 
He smiled faintly.
 
“No. She loves life.”
 
Anjali looked at him suspiciously.
 
“Careful. You’re already talking like a poet.”
 
She gave him a small push.
 
“Go.”
 
Rohan took a deep breath, adjusted his shirt, and walked toward Mamta.
 
“Aunty? Mamta Aunty?”
 
Mamta turned.
 
For a second, surprise crossed her face.
 
Then it transformed into a warm smile.
 
“Rohan?”
 
Her smile was genuine, and somehow that made him even more nervous.
 
“What are you doing here?” she asked. “I thought you were an engineering student, not someone who spends weekends among flowers.”
 
He laughed.
 
“Definitely not a botanist, Aunty. Actually, I’m here because of my mother.”
 
“Your mother?”
 
“Yes. Her birthday is next week. She loves gardening, and I thought I would surprise her with a rose plant.”
 
Mamta’s eyes immediately softened.
 
“That is actually very thoughtful.”
 
He smiled.
 
“The problem is… I have no idea what I’m doing.”
 
She laughed softly.
 
The sound was gentle and unexpectedly charming.
 
“I don’t believe that.”
 
“It’s true. I came here looking confident, but inside I’m completely lost.”
 
Mamta shook her head, amused.
 
“Young people today are so confident about everything. At least you are honest enough to admit when you don’t know something.”
 
Rohan smiled.
 
“So you’re saying I get some points for honesty?”
 
“Maybe one or two.”
 
He laughed.
 
The conversation began naturally.
 
“What kind of garden does your mother have?” Mamta asked.
 
“Small one. Mostly plants in pots.”
 
“Then don’t choose something that requires too much space. Some roses need room to grow.”

[prasannas2001]

Mamta with Rohan in the nursery.

[prasannas2001]

 
Mamta moved toward another section, and he followed.
 
“What about this one?”
 
“Beautiful,” she said. “But not ideal for a beginner.”
 
“Why?”
 
“Because beauty often comes with responsibility.”
 
She looked at the flower while saying it, but for a brief second, Rohan wondered if she was talking about something beyond roses.
 
He smiled.
 
“You make flowers sound complicated.”
 
“They are.”
 
“More complicated than people?”
 
Mamta looked at him and laughed.
 
“Definitely not.”
 
The conversation continued effortlessly.
 
She explained the differences between hybrid teas and floribundas, between fragrance and appearance, between plants that needed attention and those that could survive independently.
 
Rohan listened with genuine interest.
 
Not because he cared about roses.
 
Because he cared about listening to her.
 
Every time he asked a question, her face brightened.
 
There was a youthful excitement in her expressions when she spoke about something she loved.
 
The seriousness disappeared, replaced by a warmth that made her look even more beautiful.
 
“You really enjoy this, don’t you?” he asked.
 
Mamta looked down at the rose in her hand.
 
“Yes.”
 
“Why?”
 
She smiled softly.
 
“Plants don’t ask for much. They just need care. A little patience. A little attention. And if you give them that, they quietly reward you.”
 
Rohan watched her.
 
“That sounds like good advice for people too.”
 
She looked at him, slightly surprised.
 
Then she smiled.
 
“You notice too much, Rohan.”
 
“Is that a bad thing?”
 
“No.”
 
A faint blush appeared on her cheeks, and she quickly turned her attention back to the flowers.
 
“But sometimes noticing too much makes life complicated.”
 
Rohan smiled but did not push further.
 
After twenty minutes, they finally selected a beautiful pink rose bush.
 
“This one,” Mamta said. “Your mother will love it.”
 
“Because it’s beautiful?”
 
“Because it’s fragrant. Beauty attracts attention, but fragrance creates memories.”
 
Rohan looked at the rose.
 
“I think you have a quote for everything.”

[prasannas2001]

 
She laughed.
 
“Maybe I just read too much poetry.”
 
“Neetu told me.”
 
Mamta looked at him.
 
“She did?”
 
“Yes. She said you spend hours with old poetry books.”
 
A surprised smile appeared on her face.
 
“She told you that?”
 
“Yes.”
 
Mamta shook her head.
 
“That girl talks too much.”
 
“But she talks about you with a lot of affection.”
 
For a moment, Mamta became quiet.
 
The simple statement touched something inside her.
 
“That’s nice to hear.”
 
Rohan noticed the softness in her expression.
 
He wanted to remember that moment.
 
 
 
***
 
 
 
When they reached the checkout area, Rohan noticed the heavy bags and large pots in her trolley.
 
“Let me help you.”
 
“Oh no, Rohan. It’s okay.”
 
“It’s not okay. You’ll end up carrying all this yourself.”
 
“I manage.”
 
“I know you do.”
 
He smiled.
 
“But that doesn’t mean you always have to.”
 
The words surprised her.
 
For a moment, she simply looked at him.
 
Then she smiled gently.
 
“Fine. Thank you.”
 
He carried the plants easily, and she watched him with quiet amusement.
 
“You make it look effortless.”
 
“I’m an engineering student. We are trained for impossible problems.”
 
She laughed.
 
“Is carrying flower pots an engineering problem?”
 
“Today it is.”
 
She shook her head, smiling.
 
The drive home was even more comfortable than Rohan had imagined.
 
The conversation moved away from flowers.
 
He told her funny stories about his college projects, the disasters, the arguments, and the moments when everything went completely wrong.
 
Mamta listened with a growing smile, clearly enjoying his animated storytelling.
 
“You mean your entire team spent three weeks building something that didn’t work?” she asked, trying not to laugh.
 
Rohan nodded with a serious expression.
 
“Yes. Three weeks of late nights, endless debates, and complete confidence that we had created something revolutionary.”
 
“And then?”
 
He sighed dramatically.
 
“We discovered one wire was connected incorrectly.”
 
For a second, Mamta tried to maintain her composure.
 
Then she laughed.

[prasannas2001]

 
A genuine, carefree laugh that made Rohan forget the story he was telling.
 
“I’m sorry,” she said, still smiling. “But after three weeks? That must have been painful.”
 
“It was devastating,” he replied. “We stared at the machine for hours, wondering why it refused to cooperate.”
 
“And the machine was actually innocent all along?”
 
“Completely innocent,” he said. “We were the ones who didn’t understand it.”
 
Mamta smiled.
 
“So what did you learn from that experience?”
 
Rohan looked at her, a playful sparkle appearing in his eyes.
 
“I learned that sometimes the most beautiful things don’t reveal themselves immediately.”
 
Mamta looked at him, slightly surprised by the unexpected answer.
 
“Beautiful things?”
 
“Yes,” he said casually. “Sometimes you have to spend time with something, understand it, and pay attention before you realize what makes it special.”
 
A small smile appeared on her lips.
 
“That sounds less like an engineering lesson and more like something from a poetry book.”
 
Rohan smiled.
 
“Maybe I have been spending too much time around someone who likes poetry.”
 
She looked away for a moment, hiding a faint blush.
 
“Neetu told you too much about me, it seems.”
 
“Actually,” he said, lowering his voice slightly, “she didn’t tell me enough.”
 
Mamta turned back toward him.
 
“Not enough?”
 
“No.”
 
He smiled.
 
“She told me you like roses. She told me you read poetry. She told me you love gardening.”
 
“And what else would you like to know?”
 
Rohan pretended to think.
 
“That’s a dangerous question, Aunty.”
 
“Why?”
 
“Because once I start asking questions, I might become curious.”
 
She laughed softly.
 
“Curious about what?”
 
He looked at her for a moment, letting the silence linger just enough.
 
“About the person behind all those things.”
 
The answer caught her slightly off guard.
 
For a moment, she simply looked at him.

[rajesh93]

Wow! guys, I have just noticed, my profile changed to 

Senior Member



Thank you all for your support. 

Congratulations

[prasannas2001]

Congratulations

Thank you so much