Misc. Erotica A String of Flowers... (By = sirajahmed10) - COMPLETE

[usaiha2]

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The days continued to pass. Both mother and son were delighted to share what had happened in those five years. Shyam took good care of her by being a helping hand to her.


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One Sunday sitting side by side and chatting they had spend nearly an hour and sub consciously Shyam's hand reached her head. It rested there for a minute before his fingers curled some of her hair. He continued curling and fondling her hair and when his fingers got entangled with her silky hair, his mother let out a soft moan.

This suddenly made him realize what he was doing and when he tried to remove his hand, his mother smiled and said 'its okay.'

Shyam continued fondling her hair. Though sub-consciously he had pulled many a times his mother did not object nor showed any signs of pain. Soon it was time for bed and his mother politely removed his hand from her hair before going to her room.

Once inside her room she was happy that though her son had grown up by five years his habits had not changed. Lying on her bed she recalled the little things he was used to do and visualizing them brought relief to her.

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Next day as they were together on the sofa and Shyam was playing with her hair, Maya waited for him to nuzzle his face in her hair as he used to. She waited patiently and when he showed no signs she thought he might have forgotten.
 
Though she was tempted to ask him she felt it better to leave it alone and went back to her room.


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The next morning as Shyam was about to leave for office he called his mother asking her whether she had seen his wrist watch. On hearing him, her mind raced back five years and recalled how he used to misplace his watch and it had become customary for her to find it and strap it on his wrist.

Gleefully she searched for his watch and on finding she strapped it on his wrist and said 'some habits don't die.'

'What Ma,'asked Shyam not hearing her words?

Without answering him she pushed him out as she used to and when she turned back an emotional wave went through her. She felt as if she was winning back her lost days.

The whole day she was busy and after supper as they sat together Shyam continued to fondle her hair and she was hoping against hope that he would pull some hair and cascade it over his face which did not happen. She was getting restless and when it was time to go to bed her patience faulted and she said 'have you not forgotten something.'

'What' asked a puzzled Shyam?

'What you used to do with my hair' she asked?

'Why, I used to caress them' he replied.

'And then?'

'Then what' he asked?

'Don't you remember you used to let my hair caress your face' she said.

'How can I forget the feeling of your soft silky hair?' 

'But I don't see you doing it anymore' she said softly.

'Yes, you don't see me doing that and you know why?'

His mother shook her head.

'Because these days you don't wear the string of flowers,' he said

Those words sent a shiver through her body; how she can tell him the reason for wearing flowers, instead saying 'my mistake' she apologized.

'No it is not yours, I should have brought them for you' he replied back.

This was yet another shock. Her face turned crimson and a cold sweat ran up her spine thinking 'how could a son take the position of a hus. . . . .?' This made her run to her room.

Shyam was dumb founded. He was wondering what had made his mother run to her room. He had seen his mother turn crimson but could not understand it. He searched for the reason and not finding it, he went to bed a puzzled man.

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The next day before Shyam could look for his wrist watch, his mother was holding it for him and on strapping she said 'you don't have to search for it any more'. 

'That would be a big relief, thanks' he smiled.

'It's my pleasure' saying this she blushed. 

Shyam stood looking at her blushing face. Not withstanding his stare, she pushed him out. Shyam turned back to have another look at her and seeing her beaming and attractive face he felt happy. With her face imprinted in his mind he went his way. The whole day his mother's radiant face flashed in front of him. He was only thinking of one thing and that was to buy flowers for her.

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That evening Shyam stared at his mother. For the first time he looked at the way she was dressed and seeing her dbangd in a simple cotton sari he was pleased. There was nothing flashy in her dressing nor had she used any make up on her face. In spite of it she looked radiant and simply beautiful. He was enchanted by her beauty.

As he sat recollecting he did not see her come. As Maya neared the sofa the fragrance of the flowers hit her, she felt delighted and on the same time sheen of shyness appeared on her face. 

Shyam had tucked the flowers under the sofa and he had no knowledge that his mother had felt its fragrance. 

Sitting next to her, it took him lot of courage before he could place his hand on her hair. On any other day he would not have hesitated. Today was different as he had brought her flowers. Caressing and feeling her hair was fine but he did not dare fix the flowers in her hair. He kept fondling her hair.

Maya waited patiently for him and as minutes tricked by and her son did not move realizing his dilemma she said 'are you not going to fix the flowers.'

'How did you know' asked a baffled Shyam.

'I could smell its fragrance from a mile' she replied.

'Oh! You are too cute Ma' saying this Shyam picked the flowers up and fixed them in her hair.

'Thank you' said his mother blushing again.

'You look beautiful wearing them' he replied.

'Is it' she asked.

'And it looks great on you and its fragrance is divine' said he inhaling its growing fragrance.

'Will you bring me flowers again' she asked?

'Yes the fragrance inspires me.'

'Fragrance of flowers or of something else' she asked.

'Fragrance of flowers coupled with that of your . . . hair.' In fact Shyam wanted to say body but decided against it. Taking hold of a few locks of hair he let it cascade on his face. This made his body go warm. It was a wonderful feeling which both loved. 

With warmness creeping over her body and getting excited by it she said 'do you know the meaning of placing flowers on a woman's locks.' 

The moment she let out the words she regretted it and when her son replied in the negative she was glad. She felt fortunate as he did not press for an answer.

Shyam was more occupied in inhaling fragrance than answering. He was feeling a raw sensation creep up his body. Getting pumped up; he pulled his mother's tresses to his face which made his mother heave. Sensing he had pulled harshly he let go of it and said 'sorry.'

'It's okay. There is nothing to feel sorry about' saying this she got up and flashing a big smile went to her room. 

Inside her room her thoughts were of what she had done. Was it correct to ask him to bring flowers? What if he comes to know its meaning? Was this wrong, she thought? Thinking he would not know its real meaning, she felt reassured and decided to carry on for some time? The prospect of the things to come made her feel excited.

Shyam was on cloud nine. He was glad as he had his mother's permission. This upped his ante and made him bold. He felt new sensations creep over his body and letting it to linger on he slept soundly.


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