17-01-2026, 10:37 AM
Part 14
Indhu stumbled into the bathroom, door shut behind her with a soft click that sounded too loud in the quiet house. She leaned back against it, hand pressed to her racing heart, breath coming in shallow gasps.
What did I just do?
The kiss replayed in slow motion her lips pressing to his sleeping ones, soft and warm, his breath filling her mouth, the faint taste of him making her feel alive in a way she hadn't in years.
Then his eyes opening.
Seeing her.
She had run.
Her body was on fire pussy throbbing, soaked, clit swollen and aching, nipples hard against the nightie, breasts heavy with need. She could feel the wetness sliding down her inner thighs.
She turned the shower on cold, stepped under it fully clothed at first, the shock of water making her gasp.
You stupid woman.
You kissed your own son.
On the lips.
While he slept.
Logical voice, sharp and merciless:
You corrupted him.
You took his innocent hug and turned it into this.
He'll wake up and hate you.
Think you're disgusting.
A bad mother.
A pervert.
Emotional voice, warm and desperate:
He kissed you first yesterday.
He wanted it.
You felt him hard against you this morning he wants it too.
You both need it.
It felt right.
Alive.
Logical:
He's eighteen. Confused. Hormones.
You're thirty-six. His mother.
You're supposed to guide him, not lead him into sin.
Emotional:
He makes me feel seen. Desired. Loved in a way no one ever has.
Not even Rajan in the best days.
Logical:
Society will destroy you.
God will punish you.
Leka will lose her mother.
Karthik will lose his future.
Emotional:
No one knows.
No one will know.
Just this feeling.
Just us.
The cold water poured over her, nightie clinging wet and heavy, but the heat inside wouldn't cool.
She stripped it off, stood naked under the spray, hands shaking.
I can't do this again.
Never.
But even as she thought it, her fingers slid between her legs, brushing her swollen pussy lips, circling her clit once guilty, desperate.
She stopped, sobbing quietly under the water.
I'm the worst mother in the world.
She finished bathing, changed into the safest nightie old, long, faded blue-check, nothing special. Hair tied back, no kajal, no lipstick.
She went to the small pooja room, lit the lamp, folded her hands.
“Show me a path,” she whispered to the small Murugan photo. “Help me. I'm lost.”
Tears fell again.
I'll never do it again.
He kissed I gave it back.
It's done.
No more.
She started cooking simple ven pongal and sambar, the smell filling the house like normal mornings.
Rajan woke, shuffled to the bathroom.
Leka woke next, yawned, went to freshen up.
Karthik slept on deep, peaceful, a small smile on his face.
Everyone thought: Let him rest. Exams over. He deserves it.
Indhu finished cooking, set the table.
Leka and Rajan sat, ready for college and work.
Indhu served quietly, then spoke softly to Rajan.
“Karthik's leave starts until results. We can visit Amma's house in Coimbatore?”
Rajan chewed, thinking.
Leka jumped in quick. “I have college for a month. Semester exams in a week. I can't come.”
Indhu's heart sank a little.
Rajan looked at her, then nodded surprisingly. “Okay. You and Karthik go. Stay until results. I'll arrange a cook maid. She'll manage for me and Leka. We'll visit weekends. When Leka's holidays start, I'll bring her.”
Indhu blinked, stunned.
He never allowed long stays in Coimbatore. Always “few days only.”
She felt happiness bloom time with Karthik, away from this house, from Rajan's eyes.
But suspicion followed.
Is this because of yesterday?
The hug.
The promise I made “I'll think about it.”
Her body chilled at the thought.
Rajan added, “Today Friday. Tonight after office I'll bring the office car. All four go. Me and Leka return Sunday night. You and Karthik stay.”
Indhu nodded, happiness winning over suspicion.
Leka looked thoughtful, something quiet in her eyes.
The morning moved on.
But inside Indhu, the questions stayed.
Happy for the trip.
Happy for time with him.
Worried what it meant.
Indhu in the kitchen after they left, heart full of conflicting joy and fear, the trip looming like a promise and a danger all at once.
-----
Indhu sat alone on the sofa after Rajan and Leka left, the house too quiet, the morning kiss burning on her lips like a brand.
She couldn't eat.
The breakfast plate she had made for herself sat untouched on the table, pongal cooling, chutney congealing.
Her mind was a storm.
Yesterday the kiss in the hall.
His lips on hers, sudden and bold.
The way she had let it happen, closed her eyes, felt it deep in her body.
This morning the second kiss.
Her own doing.
Leaning in while he slept, pressing her mouth to his, tasting him, feeling alive in a way that terrified her.
Then his eyes opening.
Seeing her.
She had run.
Now she sat curled on the sofa, knees drawn up, arms wrapped around them, staring at nothing.
Why did I do it?
He's my son.
My baby.
I'm supposed to protect him, guide him, not… not this.
But the craving was there deep, undeniable.
The way his arms felt around her.
The hardness she had felt twice now morning hug, yesterday's press.
The way her pussy throbbed every time she remembered, wetness soaking her panties even now.
She was wet again, thinking of it.
Nipples hard against the old nightie.
Breasts heavy, aching.
Wrong. Sin.
What kind of mother wants her son's cock?
Wants his mouth on her?
Wants him inside her?
Tears came, silent.
Her words to rajan echoed “I'll think about it.”
Sex with him felt like betrayal now.
Betrayal of Karthik.
The thought made her cry harder. Thats Why did she wanted to visit her mom.
Karthik finished college.
He'll be home all day now.
Alone with me.
Being alone with him every day, every night would be torture.
The touches. The looks. The hugs that lasted too long.
I won't be able to control it.
He won't either.
We need distance.
Space to breathe.
To forget.
Coimbatore.
Amma's house.
Relatives.
Grandma's room for us women.
Karthik in the hall.
Safe.
She picked up the phone, hands shaking, and called her mother.
“Amma… we're coming. Me and Karthik. For a month, until results.”
Her mother's voice lit up like Diwali lights. “Really? Ayyo, my Indhu coming? With my grandson? I'm so happy, kanna! The house has been empty always. Come, come I'll make your favourite kozhukattai, buy fresh mutton, everything!”
Indhu smiled through tears. “Yes, Amma. Tonight, we all coming rajan and leka will return Sunday and we two will stay.”
Her mother chattered on plans, cooking, how the neighbours would be jealous.
Indhu listened, heart lighter for a moment.
This is right.
Distance will fix us.
He'll forget.
I'll forget.
Karthik woke later, the happiness from the kiss still warm in his chest.
He showered, wrapped a towel around his waist, and stepped into the wardrobe-room.
He heard her voice from the hall talking to grandma, excited tones about Coimbatore.
His stomach dropped.
Coimbatore?
For a month?
He sat on the closed toilet seat, towel loose, mind racing.
I thought… after the kiss this morning… she wants me too.
She kissed me back.
We could be alone here.
Close.
Finally talk.
Finally…
But now Coimbatore.
Grandma's house.
Separate rooms.
Relatives everywhere.
Distance.
Why?
Is she running from me?
Does she regret the kiss?
Think I'm wrong?
The happiness curdled into fear.
She knows if we stay here alone… something will happen.
She's scared.
He looked at himself in the mirror eighteen, college over, man enough to feel this, not man enough to control it.
I won't bring it up.
The kisses.
I'll act normal.
Be the good son.
He dressed simple T-shirt and shorts and walked out.
Indhu was in the kitchen.
He hesitated in the doorway, then spoke softly. “Amma… why didn't you wake me?”
She turned, eyes flickering with everything unsaid guilt, love, fear.
“You studied all night for months,” she said, voice gentle. “We let you sleep.”
Relief washed over him.
She's acting normal too.
She's not angry.
He smiled, small and careful noticed ber plate not eaten. “shall we eat?”
She nodded, turning back to the stove to hide her own relief.
Neither mentioned the kisses.
It was buried inside them burning, waiting.
The day moved on.
But the decision to go to Coimbatore hung over them like a shadow.
Distance to save them.
Or distance to break them.
The mother and son circling the unspoken, pretending normal, the trip to Coimbatore looming as both escape and danger.
---------------------------
The house was quiet after breakfast, the plates cleared, the kitchen wiped down. Indhu and Karthik sat on opposite ends of the sofa, eating idlies in near silence. The TV was on low some old serial playing, the dramatic music filling the gaps where words should have been.
Indhu chewed slowly, eyes on the screen but mind miles away.
Karthik kept stealing glances at her her loose hair, the way the nightie clung softly to her body, the curve of her breast when she shifted. He wanted to say something, anything, but the memory of the morning kiss choked him.
He had kissed her.
She had kissed him back.
Then she ran.
Now they were here together, but not together.
The silence was unbearable.
To distract herself, Indhu picked up the remote and changed the channel news, a cooking show, a movie song. Nothing held her attention.
Karthik watched her, bored, restless.
He missed talking to her.
Missed the easy way things used to be.
Indhu noticed his fidgeting, the way he switched channels aimlessly.
She set her plate aside. “Are you bored, kanna?”
Karthik looked up, heart jumping at the normal tone.
She's talking to me.
Like nothing happened.
He smiled, small and relieved. “Yes, Amma. Nothing to do.”
Indhu hesitated, then said softly, “Will you come with me to the temple? The small Murugan one near the market. I want to pray for your results.”
He nodded quickly. “Yes. Better than sitting here.”
She smiled, relieved. “Good. I'll call Varsha too. She'll drive.”
She stood, took the plates to the kitchen, then heard the washing machine beep cycle done.
She turned to Karthik. “Go bath and get ready. I'll put the clothes on the terrace and get ready too.”
He nodded, stood, and went to the bathroom.
Indhu gathered the wet clothes his college uniform, Leka's kurti, her own nightie and carried them to the terrace with her phone.
The sun was warm, the terrace breeze gentle. She started hanging the clothes on the line, pins clicking, fabric fluttering.
Then she dialled Varsha.
Varsha answered on the second ring. “Indhu? Everything okay?”
Indhu's voice was low. “We're going to the temple. The small Murugan one. Will you come with us? Drive?”
Varsha laughed. “Of course. I'll bring the car. Pick you up in half an hour.”
Then, naughty tone: “Finally the couple gets time alone? What are you planning temple or something more?”
Indhu's cheeks burned. “Stop it.”
Varsha's voice turned serious. “You okay? You sound… off.”
Indhu paused, pinning a wet shirt. “We're going to Coimbatore tonight. Me and Karthik. For a month, until results.”
Varsha's tone changed. “What? Why?”
Indhu's voice trembled. “I thought… it's better. After the exams. He's home all day now. Alone with me… it's not right. For both of us. We're confused. Coimbatore relatives, Amma's house, separate rooms. It'll clear the air. Make us stable. Forget what happened.”
Varsha was quiet for a moment. “Indhu… yesterday you were different. Today you're running.”
Indhu's eyes stung. “I thought about his future. I can't spoil his life for my… feelings.”
Varsha sighed. “Okay. Temple first. I'll pick you up. We'll talk there.”
She hung up.
Indhu stood on the terrace, wet clothes flapping in the breeze, tears falling silently.
I'm doing the right thing.
Distance will fix us.
But her heart screamed otherwise.
She went back inside, changed into a simple cotton saree safe, modest, nothing to tempt. Hair tied back, small bindi.
Karthik came out of the bathroom, towel around his waist, hair wet, body fresh.
He looked at her, eyes soft.
She avoided his gaze, went to the kitchen to pack a small bag for the temple.
The silence between them was different now charged, careful, full of everything they weren't saying.
The doorbell rang Varsha.
They left together mother, son, and aunty toward the temple, toward answers, toward whatever came next.
The car ride beginning, the unspoken tension thick in the air, Indhu's heart heavy with love, guilt, and the desperate hope that distance would save them from themselves.
--------------------------------------
The car ride to the Murugan temple on the hill road was mostly silent, the kind of quiet that felt full rather than empty. Varsha drove with the windows cracked, warm wind carrying the smell of dry earth, distant flowers, and the faint salt of the sea far off. The radio played low old Tamil melodies Indhu used to hum when Karthik was small, soft enough that no one had to speak if they didn't want to.
Karthik sat in the back seat alone, bag on his lap, staring out the window. Indhu sat in front beside Varsha, saree pallu slipping slightly from her shoulder, the green cotton soft against her skin. She kept her eyes on the road, but her mind was loud replaying the morning kiss, the guilt, the craving, the fear that she had ruined everything.
Varsha glanced at them both in the rearview mirror and tried to spark conversation.
“So… Coimbatore for a month. That's big news.”
Indhu managed a small smile. “Yes. My mother is very happy. She lives mostly alone since Appa passed. The house will be full again.”
Varsha nodded. “Tell us about it. Your native place.”
Indhu's voice softened, memories warming her tone.
“It's a small village. Not even a proper bus stand just a stop under a big banyan tree. We have a little land few coconut trees, a hand pump, a small well. When we were children, Leka and Karthik used to bathe in that well every summer. Cold water, splashing, laughing till they couldn't breathe.”
She looked at Karthik in the mirror. He was listening, eyes soft.
“Every year the village temple function big celebration. Lights, music, kolam in front of every house, firecrackers at night. We haven't been for the full festival in years. This time… we'll be there.”
Karthik listened carefully, heart twisting.
She's doing this to clear her mind.
To create distance.
To forget what happened.
He stared at his hands.
This is a dead end.
She wants to keep us apart.
Grandma's house women in one room, me in the hall.
Relatives everywhere.
No more hugs. No more kisses. No more… anything.
He should accept it.
The taboo relationship ends here.
Learn to move on.
Be her son again. Nothing more.
But the thought hurt more than he expected.
Varsha glanced back. “You'll see your mother's childhood life, Karthik. Enjoy it. Before MBBS starts studies will be brutal. Relax till then.”
Karthik nodded quietly. “Yes, aunty.”
They reached the temple.
The steps were warm under their feet, sandalwood and camphor thick in the air. They stood in line for darshan, hands pressed together, eyes closed.
Indhu prayed silently, tears in her eyes.
God, forgive me.
I'm sorry for what I did.
For what I feel.
Protect him. Make him successful. Make me strong enough to let him go.
Karthik prayed, heart heavy.
Make me worthy of her.
Even if it's just as her son.
Let her be happy.
Let her not hate me.
After darshan, prasad in hand sweet pongal, a little vibhuti on their foreheads they walked out slowly.
Varsha pointed to an old tree near the exit. Under it sat an elderly woman thin, white-haired, eyes half-closed in meditation. Simple white saree, rudraksha mala around her neck.
“That woman,” Varsha whispered, “is very powerful. Rare to see her like this. Her blessings are precious.”
She led them closer.
The woman opened her eyes slowly, looked at Karthik and Indhu, and smiled gentle, knowing.
They bent, touching near her feet.
She placed her hands on their heads, murmured mantras in a low voice.
Then she spoke, voice soft but clear.
“You two will be happy together… after many struggles. The child you have will bring fortune to your family.”
Indhu and Karthik froze.
Varsha's eyes widened.
She leaned in. “Aunty… they are not couple. Mother and son.”
The woman laughed softly, nodded like she understood something they didn't.
Waved her hand for Karthik and Indhu to walk away.
They stepped back, stunned.
The woman called Varsha closer.
Indhu and Karthik moved aside, giving space.
The woman placed her hands on Varsha's head, murmured more mantras, then spoke quietly.
“You have been bold and fierce in your life… but deep inside what you feel is hidden… and soon you will find a true happiness.”
She closed her eyes and returned to meditation.
Varsha stood there for a second, eyes wide, then walked back to Indhu and Karthik.
They three stood silent, the old woman's words hanging heavy.
They walked to the prasad distribution area, sat on the stone floor under the banyan tree, eating in quiet.
Varsha broke the silence first, trying to lighten it.
“She must have thought you two are couple, Indhu. You look way younger like a newly married wife. Don't go together anywhere like this everyone will think the same.”
She laughed, playful.
Indhu's cheeks burned. Karthik's face went red.
Inside both, the words burned brighter happy together, after struggles, the child you have.
They ate the prasad in silence, the blessing still ringing in their ears.
mother and son sitting under the ancient tree, the old woman's blessing (and the hidden one for Varsha) echoing, the future uncertain, the love inside them burning brighter than ever, the distance between them feeling both safe and unbearable. Varsha quietly wondering what hidden happiness awaited her, the three of them carrying the weight of words they couldn't yet fully understand.
—------------------------------
Rajan sat in his office cabin, the AC blasting cold air that did nothing to cool the frustration burning in his chest. The desk was cluttered files, coffee cup half-empty, phone in his hand. He had been staring at the screen for ten minutes without seeing the numbers.
The old astrologer's words from twenty years ago kept circling in his head like a curse he couldn't shake.
“Issue in her horoscope. Marriage won't lead to happy life.”
He had laughed then. Ignored it. Married her anyway.
Now look.
Indhu beautiful, distant, untouchable.
Her body sexier than ever full breasts, round hips, that glow she had now that made every man in the office whisper behind his back. “Lucky bastard, Rajan sir. Wife like that at this age?”
They envied him.
He couldn't even touch her.
He needed to find that astrologer.
Pariharam. Remedies. Whatever it took to break this curse.
He picked up the phone and called his uncle in the village.
“Uncle, that astrologer who did our marriage matching… do you know where he is now?”
The uncle paused, thinking. “Who? The old man from the next village? He moved years ago. Some people say he went to Madurai. Others say he stopped practicing. Why now?”
Rajan lied smoothly. “Just some family matter. Wanted to ask him something.”
Uncle promised to ask around.
Rajan hung up, frustrated.
He dialled Indhu's mother next.
“Amma,” he said, voice polite but tense. “How are you?”
Her mother's voice was bright, excited. “Rajan! Good, good. Indhu called said she and Karthik are coming for a month! I'm in cloud nine! The house will be full again.”
Rajan forced a smile into his voice. “Yes, Amma. They'll reach tonight.”
She chattered on cooking plans, temple visits, how happy she was.
Then Rajan asked, casual. “Amma… that astrologer who did our marriage matching years ago. Do you know where he is now?”
Her mother paused. “Why him suddenly? Any problem?”
Rajan lied again. “No problem. Just… Leka's future. She'll finish studies in a few years. We should ask about marriage time, best horoscope match. Need to start looking for a groom soon.”
Her mother softened. “Oh, yes. Smart. I'll ask around. Find his contact. He was good very genuine.”
Rajan thanked her, hung up.
He leaned back in his chair, mind racing.
Whatever he had to tell her mother whatever lie he would do it.
He needed Indhu back.
Needed her under him, legs spread, pussy wet and willing, moaning his name like the early days.
He got up, walked to the general manager's cabin.
The manager fifty, balding, always joking was on the phone. He waved Rajan in.
Rajan waited, then spoke. “Sir, can I take the office car this weekend? Family trip to native place.”
Manager grinned. “Wife and kids? Lucky man. Take it. Enjoy.”
Then, laughing, “You'll miss your wife for a month, ha? That beauty alone at home… dangerous.”
Rajan forced a laugh, manly and casual. “I'll visit weekends. Manage fine.”
Manager sighed dramatically. “Even after all these years, you're the happy one. My wife is torture. I'd be happy to send her away for a week just to breathe. You're lucky, Rajan. Your wife is… jackpot.”
Rajan smiled, nodded, left the room.
Inside, the words stung.
Everyone sees her beauty.
Everyone envies me.
But she won't let me touch her.
He walked back to his seat, imagining her full breasts, round ass, hips swaying, that glow she had now.
His cock stirred in his pants.
Soon.
He would find the astrologer.
Break the curse.
Then she would be his again.
Rajan at his desk, mind fixed on reclaiming what he thought was his, the astrologer search already underway, the desperation growing.
------
The red car pulled up in front of the house just as the sun dipped low, painting the street in long golden shadows. Varsha turned off the engine and looked at Indhu in the passenger seat, then at Karthik in the back.
“Here we are,” she said softly. “Safe journey tonight.”
Karthik stepped out first, bags in hand, nodding a quiet “thanks, aunty.” He walked to the gate without waiting, shoulders tense, eyes on the ground.
Indhu opened her door, paused, then turned to Varsha.
“Thank you for today.”
Varsha reached over, pulled her into a quick, tight hug across the console.
“I don't know what's going on inside your head, Indhu,” she whispered against her ear. “But don't make any big decisions right now. Just… breathe. I'm here. Call me anytime. Day or night.”
Indhu nodded against her shoulder, throat tight. “I will.”
She pulled back, managed a small smile, and stepped out.
Varsha watched her walk to the gate, then drove off with a small wave.
Indhu opened the gate, stepped inside.
The house was already alive Leka's college bag on the sofa, shoes kicked off near the door, TV on low in the hall. Leka must have come early with her spare key.
Indhu called softly, “Leka?”
“In here, Amma!”
Leka appeared from the bedroom, hair tied in a messy bun, wearing one of the new cotton pant-T-shirt sets mint green, loose and cute.
Indhu forced a smile. “You came early?”
Leka shrugged. “Appa called. Said he'll bring the office car tonight. We need to pack soon and be ready.”
Indhu nodded. “Okay.”
She went to her room, pulled out the old trolley suitcase from under the bed. Karthik was already in the hall, sitting on the sofa, staring at his phone.
She started packing safe clothes first. The old sarees, the modest kurtis, the long nighties Rajan liked. Nothing from the shopping spree. Nothing Karthik had chosen. Nothing that would remind her of his eyes on her body, his hands picking fabrics that would touch her skin.
Karthik noticed.
Every time she folded an old cotton nightie, his chest tightened.
She's leaving them out.
The shimmer leggings. The nighties. The skirts he spent hours choosing, imagining her in them.
The pain grew sharp.
She's ignoring me.
Excluding me from her life.
He stood up, went to his room, pulled out his backpack.
He was a guy he didn't need much. Few jeans, shirts, mostly shorts and T-shirts. He packed quickly, mechanically.
He couldn't stay in the house watching her pack without him.
He took his phone and stepped outside to the small front verandah, called his friends random talk about cricket, holidays, anything to drown the ache.
Inside, Leka watched her mother pack.
She noticed too.
Amma is avoiding the new clothes.
The ones Karthik chose.
The shimmer leggings, the nighties, the skirts.
Leka's doubt grew stronger.
They must have fought.
Something happened.
They were so close this morning hugging, kissing cheeks, laughing.
Now… this silence. This distance.
She didn't like it.
For years Karthik had been the favourite first priority, always.
She had been second.
Now seeing them separated, something inside her shifted.
She wanted to be close to Amma again.
To be first, just once.
She walked over, sat beside Indhu on the bed.
“Amma… that saree you're folding it looks great on you.”
Indhu looked up, surprised. “Thank you, mol.”
Leka smiled, leaning closer. “Your face looks very bright and clear today. Really glowing.”
Indhu's heart squeezed.
Bright?
Glowing?
She felt dull, tired, confused.
But Leka's words were sweet.
She smiled, touched Leka's cheek. “Thank you, kanna.”
They packed together Leka helping fold, chatting about grandma's house, cousins, the temple festival.
Karthik stayed outside, phone in hand, pretending to talk.
Indhu and Leka finished, sat on the sofa, talking about relatives, old memories.
Karthik still didn't come in.
The silence between mother and son stretched longer.
Dinner would be soon.
Rajan would come.
The trip tonight.
But the gap between them felt wider than the road to Coimbatore.
Indhu and Leka on the sofa, talking softly, Karthik outside in the evening light, the house divided, the unspoken kiss and the distance it created sitting heavy between mother and son.
Indhu stumbled into the bathroom, door shut behind her with a soft click that sounded too loud in the quiet house. She leaned back against it, hand pressed to her racing heart, breath coming in shallow gasps.
What did I just do?
The kiss replayed in slow motion her lips pressing to his sleeping ones, soft and warm, his breath filling her mouth, the faint taste of him making her feel alive in a way she hadn't in years.
Then his eyes opening.
Seeing her.
She had run.
Her body was on fire pussy throbbing, soaked, clit swollen and aching, nipples hard against the nightie, breasts heavy with need. She could feel the wetness sliding down her inner thighs.
She turned the shower on cold, stepped under it fully clothed at first, the shock of water making her gasp.
You stupid woman.
You kissed your own son.
On the lips.
While he slept.
Logical voice, sharp and merciless:
You corrupted him.
You took his innocent hug and turned it into this.
He'll wake up and hate you.
Think you're disgusting.
A bad mother.
A pervert.
Emotional voice, warm and desperate:
He kissed you first yesterday.
He wanted it.
You felt him hard against you this morning he wants it too.
You both need it.
It felt right.
Alive.
Logical:
He's eighteen. Confused. Hormones.
You're thirty-six. His mother.
You're supposed to guide him, not lead him into sin.
Emotional:
He makes me feel seen. Desired. Loved in a way no one ever has.
Not even Rajan in the best days.
Logical:
Society will destroy you.
God will punish you.
Leka will lose her mother.
Karthik will lose his future.
Emotional:
No one knows.
No one will know.
Just this feeling.
Just us.
The cold water poured over her, nightie clinging wet and heavy, but the heat inside wouldn't cool.
She stripped it off, stood naked under the spray, hands shaking.
I can't do this again.
Never.
But even as she thought it, her fingers slid between her legs, brushing her swollen pussy lips, circling her clit once guilty, desperate.
She stopped, sobbing quietly under the water.
I'm the worst mother in the world.
She finished bathing, changed into the safest nightie old, long, faded blue-check, nothing special. Hair tied back, no kajal, no lipstick.
She went to the small pooja room, lit the lamp, folded her hands.
“Show me a path,” she whispered to the small Murugan photo. “Help me. I'm lost.”
Tears fell again.
I'll never do it again.
He kissed I gave it back.
It's done.
No more.
She started cooking simple ven pongal and sambar, the smell filling the house like normal mornings.
Rajan woke, shuffled to the bathroom.
Leka woke next, yawned, went to freshen up.
Karthik slept on deep, peaceful, a small smile on his face.
Everyone thought: Let him rest. Exams over. He deserves it.
Indhu finished cooking, set the table.
Leka and Rajan sat, ready for college and work.
Indhu served quietly, then spoke softly to Rajan.
“Karthik's leave starts until results. We can visit Amma's house in Coimbatore?”
Rajan chewed, thinking.
Leka jumped in quick. “I have college for a month. Semester exams in a week. I can't come.”
Indhu's heart sank a little.
Rajan looked at her, then nodded surprisingly. “Okay. You and Karthik go. Stay until results. I'll arrange a cook maid. She'll manage for me and Leka. We'll visit weekends. When Leka's holidays start, I'll bring her.”
Indhu blinked, stunned.
He never allowed long stays in Coimbatore. Always “few days only.”
She felt happiness bloom time with Karthik, away from this house, from Rajan's eyes.
But suspicion followed.
Is this because of yesterday?
The hug.
The promise I made “I'll think about it.”
Her body chilled at the thought.
Rajan added, “Today Friday. Tonight after office I'll bring the office car. All four go. Me and Leka return Sunday night. You and Karthik stay.”
Indhu nodded, happiness winning over suspicion.
Leka looked thoughtful, something quiet in her eyes.
The morning moved on.
But inside Indhu, the questions stayed.
Happy for the trip.
Happy for time with him.
Worried what it meant.
Indhu in the kitchen after they left, heart full of conflicting joy and fear, the trip looming like a promise and a danger all at once.
-----
Indhu sat alone on the sofa after Rajan and Leka left, the house too quiet, the morning kiss burning on her lips like a brand.
She couldn't eat.
The breakfast plate she had made for herself sat untouched on the table, pongal cooling, chutney congealing.
Her mind was a storm.
Yesterday the kiss in the hall.
His lips on hers, sudden and bold.
The way she had let it happen, closed her eyes, felt it deep in her body.
This morning the second kiss.
Her own doing.
Leaning in while he slept, pressing her mouth to his, tasting him, feeling alive in a way that terrified her.
Then his eyes opening.
Seeing her.
She had run.
Now she sat curled on the sofa, knees drawn up, arms wrapped around them, staring at nothing.
Why did I do it?
He's my son.
My baby.
I'm supposed to protect him, guide him, not… not this.
But the craving was there deep, undeniable.
The way his arms felt around her.
The hardness she had felt twice now morning hug, yesterday's press.
The way her pussy throbbed every time she remembered, wetness soaking her panties even now.
She was wet again, thinking of it.
Nipples hard against the old nightie.
Breasts heavy, aching.
Wrong. Sin.
What kind of mother wants her son's cock?
Wants his mouth on her?
Wants him inside her?
Tears came, silent.
Her words to rajan echoed “I'll think about it.”
Sex with him felt like betrayal now.
Betrayal of Karthik.
The thought made her cry harder. Thats Why did she wanted to visit her mom.
Karthik finished college.
He'll be home all day now.
Alone with me.
Being alone with him every day, every night would be torture.
The touches. The looks. The hugs that lasted too long.
I won't be able to control it.
He won't either.
We need distance.
Space to breathe.
To forget.
Coimbatore.
Amma's house.
Relatives.
Grandma's room for us women.
Karthik in the hall.
Safe.
She picked up the phone, hands shaking, and called her mother.
“Amma… we're coming. Me and Karthik. For a month, until results.”
Her mother's voice lit up like Diwali lights. “Really? Ayyo, my Indhu coming? With my grandson? I'm so happy, kanna! The house has been empty always. Come, come I'll make your favourite kozhukattai, buy fresh mutton, everything!”
Indhu smiled through tears. “Yes, Amma. Tonight, we all coming rajan and leka will return Sunday and we two will stay.”
Her mother chattered on plans, cooking, how the neighbours would be jealous.
Indhu listened, heart lighter for a moment.
This is right.
Distance will fix us.
He'll forget.
I'll forget.
Karthik woke later, the happiness from the kiss still warm in his chest.
He showered, wrapped a towel around his waist, and stepped into the wardrobe-room.
He heard her voice from the hall talking to grandma, excited tones about Coimbatore.
His stomach dropped.
Coimbatore?
For a month?
He sat on the closed toilet seat, towel loose, mind racing.
I thought… after the kiss this morning… she wants me too.
She kissed me back.
We could be alone here.
Close.
Finally talk.
Finally…
But now Coimbatore.
Grandma's house.
Separate rooms.
Relatives everywhere.
Distance.
Why?
Is she running from me?
Does she regret the kiss?
Think I'm wrong?
The happiness curdled into fear.
She knows if we stay here alone… something will happen.
She's scared.
He looked at himself in the mirror eighteen, college over, man enough to feel this, not man enough to control it.
I won't bring it up.
The kisses.
I'll act normal.
Be the good son.
He dressed simple T-shirt and shorts and walked out.
Indhu was in the kitchen.
He hesitated in the doorway, then spoke softly. “Amma… why didn't you wake me?”
She turned, eyes flickering with everything unsaid guilt, love, fear.
“You studied all night for months,” she said, voice gentle. “We let you sleep.”
Relief washed over him.
She's acting normal too.
She's not angry.
He smiled, small and careful noticed ber plate not eaten. “shall we eat?”
She nodded, turning back to the stove to hide her own relief.
Neither mentioned the kisses.
It was buried inside them burning, waiting.
The day moved on.
But the decision to go to Coimbatore hung over them like a shadow.
Distance to save them.
Or distance to break them.
The mother and son circling the unspoken, pretending normal, the trip to Coimbatore looming as both escape and danger.
---------------------------
The house was quiet after breakfast, the plates cleared, the kitchen wiped down. Indhu and Karthik sat on opposite ends of the sofa, eating idlies in near silence. The TV was on low some old serial playing, the dramatic music filling the gaps where words should have been.
Indhu chewed slowly, eyes on the screen but mind miles away.
Karthik kept stealing glances at her her loose hair, the way the nightie clung softly to her body, the curve of her breast when she shifted. He wanted to say something, anything, but the memory of the morning kiss choked him.
He had kissed her.
She had kissed him back.
Then she ran.
Now they were here together, but not together.
The silence was unbearable.
To distract herself, Indhu picked up the remote and changed the channel news, a cooking show, a movie song. Nothing held her attention.
Karthik watched her, bored, restless.
He missed talking to her.
Missed the easy way things used to be.
Indhu noticed his fidgeting, the way he switched channels aimlessly.
She set her plate aside. “Are you bored, kanna?”
Karthik looked up, heart jumping at the normal tone.
She's talking to me.
Like nothing happened.
He smiled, small and relieved. “Yes, Amma. Nothing to do.”
Indhu hesitated, then said softly, “Will you come with me to the temple? The small Murugan one near the market. I want to pray for your results.”
He nodded quickly. “Yes. Better than sitting here.”
She smiled, relieved. “Good. I'll call Varsha too. She'll drive.”
She stood, took the plates to the kitchen, then heard the washing machine beep cycle done.
She turned to Karthik. “Go bath and get ready. I'll put the clothes on the terrace and get ready too.”
He nodded, stood, and went to the bathroom.
Indhu gathered the wet clothes his college uniform, Leka's kurti, her own nightie and carried them to the terrace with her phone.
The sun was warm, the terrace breeze gentle. She started hanging the clothes on the line, pins clicking, fabric fluttering.
Then she dialled Varsha.
Varsha answered on the second ring. “Indhu? Everything okay?”
Indhu's voice was low. “We're going to the temple. The small Murugan one. Will you come with us? Drive?”
Varsha laughed. “Of course. I'll bring the car. Pick you up in half an hour.”
Then, naughty tone: “Finally the couple gets time alone? What are you planning temple or something more?”
Indhu's cheeks burned. “Stop it.”
Varsha's voice turned serious. “You okay? You sound… off.”
Indhu paused, pinning a wet shirt. “We're going to Coimbatore tonight. Me and Karthik. For a month, until results.”
Varsha's tone changed. “What? Why?”
Indhu's voice trembled. “I thought… it's better. After the exams. He's home all day now. Alone with me… it's not right. For both of us. We're confused. Coimbatore relatives, Amma's house, separate rooms. It'll clear the air. Make us stable. Forget what happened.”
Varsha was quiet for a moment. “Indhu… yesterday you were different. Today you're running.”
Indhu's eyes stung. “I thought about his future. I can't spoil his life for my… feelings.”
Varsha sighed. “Okay. Temple first. I'll pick you up. We'll talk there.”
She hung up.
Indhu stood on the terrace, wet clothes flapping in the breeze, tears falling silently.
I'm doing the right thing.
Distance will fix us.
But her heart screamed otherwise.
She went back inside, changed into a simple cotton saree safe, modest, nothing to tempt. Hair tied back, small bindi.
Karthik came out of the bathroom, towel around his waist, hair wet, body fresh.
He looked at her, eyes soft.
She avoided his gaze, went to the kitchen to pack a small bag for the temple.
The silence between them was different now charged, careful, full of everything they weren't saying.
The doorbell rang Varsha.
They left together mother, son, and aunty toward the temple, toward answers, toward whatever came next.
The car ride beginning, the unspoken tension thick in the air, Indhu's heart heavy with love, guilt, and the desperate hope that distance would save them from themselves.
--------------------------------------
The car ride to the Murugan temple on the hill road was mostly silent, the kind of quiet that felt full rather than empty. Varsha drove with the windows cracked, warm wind carrying the smell of dry earth, distant flowers, and the faint salt of the sea far off. The radio played low old Tamil melodies Indhu used to hum when Karthik was small, soft enough that no one had to speak if they didn't want to.
Karthik sat in the back seat alone, bag on his lap, staring out the window. Indhu sat in front beside Varsha, saree pallu slipping slightly from her shoulder, the green cotton soft against her skin. She kept her eyes on the road, but her mind was loud replaying the morning kiss, the guilt, the craving, the fear that she had ruined everything.
Varsha glanced at them both in the rearview mirror and tried to spark conversation.
“So… Coimbatore for a month. That's big news.”
Indhu managed a small smile. “Yes. My mother is very happy. She lives mostly alone since Appa passed. The house will be full again.”
Varsha nodded. “Tell us about it. Your native place.”
Indhu's voice softened, memories warming her tone.
“It's a small village. Not even a proper bus stand just a stop under a big banyan tree. We have a little land few coconut trees, a hand pump, a small well. When we were children, Leka and Karthik used to bathe in that well every summer. Cold water, splashing, laughing till they couldn't breathe.”
She looked at Karthik in the mirror. He was listening, eyes soft.
“Every year the village temple function big celebration. Lights, music, kolam in front of every house, firecrackers at night. We haven't been for the full festival in years. This time… we'll be there.”
Karthik listened carefully, heart twisting.
She's doing this to clear her mind.
To create distance.
To forget what happened.
He stared at his hands.
This is a dead end.
She wants to keep us apart.
Grandma's house women in one room, me in the hall.
Relatives everywhere.
No more hugs. No more kisses. No more… anything.
He should accept it.
The taboo relationship ends here.
Learn to move on.
Be her son again. Nothing more.
But the thought hurt more than he expected.
Varsha glanced back. “You'll see your mother's childhood life, Karthik. Enjoy it. Before MBBS starts studies will be brutal. Relax till then.”
Karthik nodded quietly. “Yes, aunty.”
They reached the temple.
The steps were warm under their feet, sandalwood and camphor thick in the air. They stood in line for darshan, hands pressed together, eyes closed.
Indhu prayed silently, tears in her eyes.
God, forgive me.
I'm sorry for what I did.
For what I feel.
Protect him. Make him successful. Make me strong enough to let him go.
Karthik prayed, heart heavy.
Make me worthy of her.
Even if it's just as her son.
Let her be happy.
Let her not hate me.
After darshan, prasad in hand sweet pongal, a little vibhuti on their foreheads they walked out slowly.
Varsha pointed to an old tree near the exit. Under it sat an elderly woman thin, white-haired, eyes half-closed in meditation. Simple white saree, rudraksha mala around her neck.
“That woman,” Varsha whispered, “is very powerful. Rare to see her like this. Her blessings are precious.”
She led them closer.
The woman opened her eyes slowly, looked at Karthik and Indhu, and smiled gentle, knowing.
They bent, touching near her feet.
She placed her hands on their heads, murmured mantras in a low voice.
Then she spoke, voice soft but clear.
“You two will be happy together… after many struggles. The child you have will bring fortune to your family.”
Indhu and Karthik froze.
Varsha's eyes widened.
She leaned in. “Aunty… they are not couple. Mother and son.”
The woman laughed softly, nodded like she understood something they didn't.
Waved her hand for Karthik and Indhu to walk away.
They stepped back, stunned.
The woman called Varsha closer.
Indhu and Karthik moved aside, giving space.
The woman placed her hands on Varsha's head, murmured more mantras, then spoke quietly.
“You have been bold and fierce in your life… but deep inside what you feel is hidden… and soon you will find a true happiness.”
She closed her eyes and returned to meditation.
Varsha stood there for a second, eyes wide, then walked back to Indhu and Karthik.
They three stood silent, the old woman's words hanging heavy.
They walked to the prasad distribution area, sat on the stone floor under the banyan tree, eating in quiet.
Varsha broke the silence first, trying to lighten it.
“She must have thought you two are couple, Indhu. You look way younger like a newly married wife. Don't go together anywhere like this everyone will think the same.”
She laughed, playful.
Indhu's cheeks burned. Karthik's face went red.
Inside both, the words burned brighter happy together, after struggles, the child you have.
They ate the prasad in silence, the blessing still ringing in their ears.
mother and son sitting under the ancient tree, the old woman's blessing (and the hidden one for Varsha) echoing, the future uncertain, the love inside them burning brighter than ever, the distance between them feeling both safe and unbearable. Varsha quietly wondering what hidden happiness awaited her, the three of them carrying the weight of words they couldn't yet fully understand.
—------------------------------
Rajan sat in his office cabin, the AC blasting cold air that did nothing to cool the frustration burning in his chest. The desk was cluttered files, coffee cup half-empty, phone in his hand. He had been staring at the screen for ten minutes without seeing the numbers.
The old astrologer's words from twenty years ago kept circling in his head like a curse he couldn't shake.
“Issue in her horoscope. Marriage won't lead to happy life.”
He had laughed then. Ignored it. Married her anyway.
Now look.
Indhu beautiful, distant, untouchable.
Her body sexier than ever full breasts, round hips, that glow she had now that made every man in the office whisper behind his back. “Lucky bastard, Rajan sir. Wife like that at this age?”
They envied him.
He couldn't even touch her.
He needed to find that astrologer.
Pariharam. Remedies. Whatever it took to break this curse.
He picked up the phone and called his uncle in the village.
“Uncle, that astrologer who did our marriage matching… do you know where he is now?”
The uncle paused, thinking. “Who? The old man from the next village? He moved years ago. Some people say he went to Madurai. Others say he stopped practicing. Why now?”
Rajan lied smoothly. “Just some family matter. Wanted to ask him something.”
Uncle promised to ask around.
Rajan hung up, frustrated.
He dialled Indhu's mother next.
“Amma,” he said, voice polite but tense. “How are you?”
Her mother's voice was bright, excited. “Rajan! Good, good. Indhu called said she and Karthik are coming for a month! I'm in cloud nine! The house will be full again.”
Rajan forced a smile into his voice. “Yes, Amma. They'll reach tonight.”
She chattered on cooking plans, temple visits, how happy she was.
Then Rajan asked, casual. “Amma… that astrologer who did our marriage matching years ago. Do you know where he is now?”
Her mother paused. “Why him suddenly? Any problem?”
Rajan lied again. “No problem. Just… Leka's future. She'll finish studies in a few years. We should ask about marriage time, best horoscope match. Need to start looking for a groom soon.”
Her mother softened. “Oh, yes. Smart. I'll ask around. Find his contact. He was good very genuine.”
Rajan thanked her, hung up.
He leaned back in his chair, mind racing.
Whatever he had to tell her mother whatever lie he would do it.
He needed Indhu back.
Needed her under him, legs spread, pussy wet and willing, moaning his name like the early days.
He got up, walked to the general manager's cabin.
The manager fifty, balding, always joking was on the phone. He waved Rajan in.
Rajan waited, then spoke. “Sir, can I take the office car this weekend? Family trip to native place.”
Manager grinned. “Wife and kids? Lucky man. Take it. Enjoy.”
Then, laughing, “You'll miss your wife for a month, ha? That beauty alone at home… dangerous.”
Rajan forced a laugh, manly and casual. “I'll visit weekends. Manage fine.”
Manager sighed dramatically. “Even after all these years, you're the happy one. My wife is torture. I'd be happy to send her away for a week just to breathe. You're lucky, Rajan. Your wife is… jackpot.”
Rajan smiled, nodded, left the room.
Inside, the words stung.
Everyone sees her beauty.
Everyone envies me.
But she won't let me touch her.
He walked back to his seat, imagining her full breasts, round ass, hips swaying, that glow she had now.
His cock stirred in his pants.
Soon.
He would find the astrologer.
Break the curse.
Then she would be his again.
Rajan at his desk, mind fixed on reclaiming what he thought was his, the astrologer search already underway, the desperation growing.
------
The red car pulled up in front of the house just as the sun dipped low, painting the street in long golden shadows. Varsha turned off the engine and looked at Indhu in the passenger seat, then at Karthik in the back.
“Here we are,” she said softly. “Safe journey tonight.”
Karthik stepped out first, bags in hand, nodding a quiet “thanks, aunty.” He walked to the gate without waiting, shoulders tense, eyes on the ground.
Indhu opened her door, paused, then turned to Varsha.
“Thank you for today.”
Varsha reached over, pulled her into a quick, tight hug across the console.
“I don't know what's going on inside your head, Indhu,” she whispered against her ear. “But don't make any big decisions right now. Just… breathe. I'm here. Call me anytime. Day or night.”
Indhu nodded against her shoulder, throat tight. “I will.”
She pulled back, managed a small smile, and stepped out.
Varsha watched her walk to the gate, then drove off with a small wave.
Indhu opened the gate, stepped inside.
The house was already alive Leka's college bag on the sofa, shoes kicked off near the door, TV on low in the hall. Leka must have come early with her spare key.
Indhu called softly, “Leka?”
“In here, Amma!”
Leka appeared from the bedroom, hair tied in a messy bun, wearing one of the new cotton pant-T-shirt sets mint green, loose and cute.
Indhu forced a smile. “You came early?”
Leka shrugged. “Appa called. Said he'll bring the office car tonight. We need to pack soon and be ready.”
Indhu nodded. “Okay.”
She went to her room, pulled out the old trolley suitcase from under the bed. Karthik was already in the hall, sitting on the sofa, staring at his phone.
She started packing safe clothes first. The old sarees, the modest kurtis, the long nighties Rajan liked. Nothing from the shopping spree. Nothing Karthik had chosen. Nothing that would remind her of his eyes on her body, his hands picking fabrics that would touch her skin.
Karthik noticed.
Every time she folded an old cotton nightie, his chest tightened.
She's leaving them out.
The shimmer leggings. The nighties. The skirts he spent hours choosing, imagining her in them.
The pain grew sharp.
She's ignoring me.
Excluding me from her life.
He stood up, went to his room, pulled out his backpack.
He was a guy he didn't need much. Few jeans, shirts, mostly shorts and T-shirts. He packed quickly, mechanically.
He couldn't stay in the house watching her pack without him.
He took his phone and stepped outside to the small front verandah, called his friends random talk about cricket, holidays, anything to drown the ache.
Inside, Leka watched her mother pack.
She noticed too.
Amma is avoiding the new clothes.
The ones Karthik chose.
The shimmer leggings, the nighties, the skirts.
Leka's doubt grew stronger.
They must have fought.
Something happened.
They were so close this morning hugging, kissing cheeks, laughing.
Now… this silence. This distance.
She didn't like it.
For years Karthik had been the favourite first priority, always.
She had been second.
Now seeing them separated, something inside her shifted.
She wanted to be close to Amma again.
To be first, just once.
She walked over, sat beside Indhu on the bed.
“Amma… that saree you're folding it looks great on you.”
Indhu looked up, surprised. “Thank you, mol.”
Leka smiled, leaning closer. “Your face looks very bright and clear today. Really glowing.”
Indhu's heart squeezed.
Bright?
Glowing?
She felt dull, tired, confused.
But Leka's words were sweet.
She smiled, touched Leka's cheek. “Thank you, kanna.”
They packed together Leka helping fold, chatting about grandma's house, cousins, the temple festival.
Karthik stayed outside, phone in hand, pretending to talk.
Indhu and Leka finished, sat on the sofa, talking about relatives, old memories.
Karthik still didn't come in.
The silence between mother and son stretched longer.
Dinner would be soon.
Rajan would come.
The trip tonight.
But the gap between them felt wider than the road to Coimbatore.
Indhu and Leka on the sofa, talking softly, Karthik outside in the evening light, the house divided, the unspoken kiss and the distance it created sitting heavy between mother and son.
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