[garamrohan]

I turned onto my right side, my body heavy with exhaustion. It’s just a dream, I told myself again. I was so drained that even the restless interruptions in my sleep couldn’t keep me awake for long. I extended my feet, and dragged the tangled blanket back over my legs with my feet, eyes still closed, then sank once more into the overbearing sleep.
---

Mummy is looking breathtaking in that magenta pink saree. She always looks beautiful, but this one is different, reserved only for special occasions and festivals. The rich silk clinging to her full curves, the color glowing against her fair skin like petals covering white marble floor. She has dbangd the pallu modestly over her head, the way she always does, with minimal jewellery – just her long magalasutra and jhumkas in ear, catching the light whenever she is moving. The simplicity is making her look even more radiant.

But what is she doing here, near the temple?

The temple bells are echoing in the background, movements of the devotees are felt, and the murmur of prayers is coming from a distance. The air smelled of incense, camphor, and jasmine. Then I see it – she is standing gracefully on the wide stone steps, offering food to the poor sitting there. This is something she does several times a year, ever since Pandit ji had advised her. She is interacting with quiet dignity as she is leaning forward to serve. The dbang of her saree accentuating the generous swell of her breasts and the soft curve of her waist. 

The beneficiaries are blessing her and she is just smiling and accepting those with a genuine namaskar. She is too generous, too heavenly to get disgusted by those poor, unhealthy people and her face is looking as fresh as ever. 

She extends the plate toward the next man with a gentle smile. His fingers deliberately brushes against hers as he takes it, lingering a second too long. She pretends not to notice and softly says, “Please enjoy the food,” before turning away. That’s when the man’s one hand catches her hand and pulls her down to him. Her eyes widen with disbelief and she can’t even breathe with fear as the man speaks, and the voice that comes out is dangerously familiar — low, husky, and dripping with hunger - “Just Khana? I want Maja as well…”
---

I gulped, wetted my dry lips and changed the side… What a filthy dream it is. I pulled the blanket, this time covering my face as well and forced myself to sleep.

---
It’s a pleasant evening. Mummy is walking the road from the bazaar to my house. The road is fully secluded, not even a dog wandering around. And I can see mummy is tired with both hands holding bags full of veggies, fruits and ration. Her fair face is covered with sweat droplets as if those are dew, and she is hissing and walking slowly towards the house. 

And suddenly a figure blocks her road. She gulps, her face depicts the limit of panic. The bags literally spill out of her hand and items scatter on the road. Her head shakes in denial. 

“Majaaaa” the voice comes and she starts running to the opposite direction, picking up her saree plates with one hand and her fleshy and juicy bum jiggles erotically through that saree. The figure follows her with confident and unhurried pace. As he passes through the scattered groceries, he steps over a juicy, ripe orange. The fruit burst under his shoe with a wet, obscene sound. Pulp explodes outward, sweet juice spraying across the road like thick, sticky nectar.

---

Man that was another filthy dream. Had I lost my mind? I felt helpless. I bit on the blanket fabric and soon regretted it. My dry-turning mouth bittered as some fabric loosened into my mouth. I slept on my stomach now, dug my face in a soft pillow and slowly fell asleep.

---

Mummy is standing at the door. She is holding two tiffin boxes in her hand, one for me and the other for papa. As we say goodbye to her, she responds cheerfully, reminding me that she wants to see my tiffin empty. And that for papa she has made his favorite methi (fenugreek leaves) sabji, which doctor has also suggested him to have as he has turned diabetic.

She turns back and there he stands. 

“All gone… with khana… give me mine..”  

She pushes him and vanishes inside the home. And that Rambo guy smiles mischievously as he locks front door from inside and spells “Khub Khana, bahut Maja”

---
I finally woke up. Full of sweat and a shameful erection. I checked at the clock. It was 4 AM in the morning and I understood I needed to do something for our well being, our mental health – mine and for my mummy’s too. 

[garamrohan]

I woke up only after the whole room was glowing with fiery sunlight, it shouldn’t have been earlier than 9 PM. I could hear my parents’ murmur in the backyard, and I quietly sat up and reclined against the cushiony pillow. Nervously, I extended my hand and checked my undie. It was damp at the groin area. It was clear that I had wet dreams, but it was not having those, but the kind of the dreams that was troubling me.


I smelled my finger, which carried the pungent smell of drying out semen and wondered if I was a devil born to a noble woman. Not having guts to take on her exploiter was another thing, here I had sexual arousal imagining nasty possibilities and had had a powerful orgasm. “So hopeless you are, Rohan” I cursed myself and suddenly I noticed someone at the door. I don’t know why but I slid under the blanket and pretended to be sleeping.

“My god... Are you still sleeping? What’s wrong with you Babu”, mummy muttered, still maintaining calmness in her voice. 

“Wake up.. Rohan. Wake up before your dad walks in. He has been cleaning the backyard since early morning and was asking for you.” she said, and pulled my blanket.

This startled me and I clutched the blanket between my thighs. “Let me sleep na, mummy” I said as if I was in deep sleep and flipped on the stomach. Hiding my wet undie from her eyes was of utmost importance to me.

“Let you sleep? Check the time and surroundings with your open eyes. It's been 10. Did you fight any battle the whole night?” she taunted, “Get up, let me make your bed.”

“Oh, come on, Mummy, I’ll do it myself. Just let me sleep for five more minutes, and I’ll get up,” I mumbled, burying my face deeper into the pillow.
What else could I have said? Of the battle that I had actually fought?

—

A mowing machine and mechanical cutter would have really helped, but I knew dad won’t agree. He was cutting the branches of spread out trees, clearing off shrubs and grass near the backyard wall compound. I was neatly piling up the cutted pieces of wood by the wall. Those were to be used for water heating and seldom cooking on the chulha (brick stove) in the backyard.

“Look out, there is a honeycomb,” He cried.

It was right at the corner of my parental bedroom’s window. Didn't bees find a better place? I thought. It was small, probably started a few days ago. 

“Shall we remove it?” I yelled.

“No.. Let it grow. We will harvest the honey at the appropriate time,” He uttered, thinking of something, “These bees don't look to be a dangerous species. Anyway, Madhurima, just be careful you won’t disturb them.”

Mummy, who had entered the scene with tea for us, nodded in agreement. 

As we were enjoying tea during a small break, I panicked again – worrying about what would happen behind us. Neither dad nor me was to be at home for the whole day. And that psycho would easily intrude the house. What if I stay at the house all the time? Wont my presence will keep him from misbehaving with mummy. By then I was mindful of how cowardly I am, and I definitely was incapable of fighting him if time comes. But mind that he never attacked her when someone was around. At both the exploitations he had ensured privacy and then only proceeded for the raunchy looting of mummy’s chastity. 

“Papa, I was thinking of staying home to study,” I proposed.

Papa kept working, offering no response.

“I mean, preparatory leave is starting soon anyway, and the syllabus is already finished. It just doesn’t make sense to go to college anymore.”

Papa stopped working and had a sharp, angry glare. “You won’t bunk a single class. Understand?” He immediately returned to his work.

I resumed collecting the sticks, silently and defeated. My plan to stay home and keep the Rambo guy from lingering around the house was ruined. Desperate, I gave a pitiful look at Mummy, silently begging her to intervene. She just widened her eyes and with a sharp, raised-eyebrow look she clearly conveyed: Don't look at me, you're on your own.

Little did she know, this all I was doing for her only.

—

“What’s wrong with you, Rohan?” Ms. Rawat, our english teacher, was thoroughly disappointed. I stood beside her desk, my eyes glued to the floor.

“You never used to be like this. Something is definitely wrong,” she said, her voice heavy with frustration. “Do you even realize how close the exams are? I certainly didn’t expect a performance like this from you, Rohan, especially not right now.” She whirled my graded test paper across the desk toward me. 

Disappointed, I walked back to my desk and slumped into my seat. 25 out of 40. Not to boast, but I was capable of so much more than that. If only that Rambo guy hadn't completely eclipsed our lives. I kept staring blankly at the paper, hardly turning even a single page.

“Hey Rohan, bro... What’s up?” asked Aditya, my desk partner for the day.

I just managed a weak smile in return and rubbed my unhappy eyes.

Aditya was an orphan. Originally from Bengal, he had somehow ended up in Maharashtra a few years ago. An NGO found him struggling to survive on the streets, and recognizing his raw potential, they took charge of his education. That was how he landed in our college – a government institution with a hostel facility that partnered with various NGOs. Over the years, Aditya had groomed himself remarkably well. He didn't just excel in academics and extracurriculars; he picked up Marathi so quickly that he now spoke it as flawlessly as the rest of us. 

“By the way, you can always discuss your problems with me,” Aditya said with a warm smile. “And be assured, it’ll stay between us. God promise.”
“There’s nothing to tell...” I muttered.

“I’m not forcing you to speak right away,” he replied, looking back down at his own paper. “I’m just saying I’m here to listen whenever you feel like sharing. Believe me, sharing a burden makes the pain hurt a little less.”

I glanced sideways at his desk. He had scored a 39 out of 40. That could have been my score, I thought, bitterness creeping into my chest; but suddenly I felt shameful as this very guy was offering help to me out of courtesy.

I smiled at him, this time with genuine gratitude, but how he could have helped me with my weird problem. He was just another immature guy like me.
 
“So let it go.” He said, as if he had read my mind.

“Sorry?”

“I mean, don’t stress over things you can’t control,” Aditya said. “Just focus on what you can do, and give it your best shot. Not every problem can be solved right away. Honestly, some things are better left alone.” 

I just kept looking at him. 

“Time, my brother. Time is the ultimate medicine,” Aditya said, a wise, knowing smile spreading across his face. “Even the most impossible puzzles unravel on their own once the tide turns. We just can't lose our patience before the enemy is reduced to ashes. Until then, we keep fighting the small battles.” 

It was clear he didn’t know what I was dealing with, but his advice hit the mark perfectly. Instead of a lecture, it felt like a steady hand reaching in to stop my panic. 

— 
That night, I slept peacefully. 

Aditya’s words acted like a balm on my bleeding mind. Reflecting on his wisdom, I made a decision: I would do everything in my power to protect Mummy, and stop agonizing over things that were out of my hands. Right now, I didn't have the strength or the resources to teach that bastard a lesson. But I had a brain. I just needed to bide my time, wait for the perfect opportunity, and then eliminate him entirely. 

I know it’s hard to understand why I kept Papa in the dark. Frankly, I don't even have a good reason, much like Mummy couldn't explain why she didn't tell him the day Rambo guy first bangd her. It was just an instinct out of knowing him for these long years. The mere thought of bringing this chaos to Papa and expecting him to be our savior felt like a recipe for disaster. 

So, my new daily routine looked like this: I would wake up and stay at home, studying and helping Mummy until it was time for college. When I left, I’d carry a large bag with me to pick up whatever groceries she needed on my way back. I absolutely refused to go to the bazaar in the evening and leave her alone again. I also decided to completely abandon my evening cricket practice until exams were over. By that time, Di and Jiju would be back to stay with us for her exams. That was the window I was waiting for—the perfect time to figure out how to eliminate Rambo from our lives. And Jiju was going to be my prime accomplice. 

It wasn’t easy, but I learned to control my anxiety. I noticed a distinct pattern: every five to six days, that bastard Rambo guy would get restless, and his footsteps would lead him right back to our house. I could tell just by watching him linger around our neighborhood at those exact intervals. But what really confirmed it was something I noticed near our backyard bathroom. 

One evening, when I returned from college, Mummy was asleep in her bed. It was almost 5 PM, which felt incredibly unusual for her. Then I noticed something else: she had changed into a different saree from the one she was wearing when I left that morning. A sickening suspicion crawled into my mind – the Rambo guy had broken into our house that afternoon and had had sex with her again. But confirming it was going to be nearly impossible. Mummy was meticulous about cleaning up the room and leaving absolutely no clues behind. I had already seen how good she was at it on the day Didi and Jiju left. 

Lost in my thoughts, I went to the backyard bathroom to freshen up. I stripped off my clothes and took a quick bath. As I turned to leave, my eyes caught a bundle stuffed into the corner – it was Mummy's saree and undergarments. It was the exact same saree she had been wearing this morning.

A chill ran down my spine; this was the proof I needed to confirm my worst fears. With trembling hands, I lifted the saree. Her undergarments fell out onto the floor – a matching dark-purble colored brassiere and panty. I dropped the saree and gulped, my heart hammering against my ribs. I had never touched a woman’s intimate clothes before, and my mind was a chaotic blur. Hesitantly, I reached out and picked up the brassiere by its strap, holding it gently as if the fabric itself might burn my fingers.

38 D. The numbers on the tag caught my attention, and a sudden heat rushed to my face, making my ears burn. I turned it over in my hands, dangling it from my fingers as I stared at the voluptuous size of it and the soft, smooth fabric. When I caught its scent, a strange, suffocating aroma filled my chest. A dark fascination began to take root in me. Then, panic snapped me out of it. I threw the brassiere back onto the saree, horrified by my own thoughts, and reminded myself of the boundaries I was crossing, and exactly what I was looking for. 

This time, I reached down and picked up the panty. As I lifted it, a thick blob of white fluid spilled from the fabric, dripping heavily onto the cemented floor of the bathroom. Even in the dim light, the nasty, viscous discharge was unmistakable. A sharp, pungent odor instantly hit my nose, turning my stomach. There was so much of that semen. The air filled with the heavy, musky scent of a sexual encounter, foul and unmistakable. My throat went completely dry. I gulped, horrified, and the panty slipped from my trembling fingers. 

I dumped water over the concrete, bucket after bucket, until the floor was completely clean. Bending down, I grabbed the clothes and wrapped them back as before, placing them exactly where they had been hidden. That was when I noticed the stickiness on my fingers. It was the fluid left behind by Rambo and Mummy. Overcome by a sudden, sickening urge, I brought my hand to my nose and smelled it. 

“Fuck…” the word came out of my throat. My heart was hammering against my ribs, and to my absolute horror, I realized I was fully erect. What the hell is wrong with you, Rohan? Disgusted by my own mind, I desperately held my hands under the running tap, letting the force of the water scrub away the stickiness and the madness of the last few minutes. 

When I finally stepped out of the bathroom, Mummy was waiting by the kitchen's backdoor. Her eyes were red, and her long hair, usually pinned up neatly, was a wild mess. She yawned, looking utterly drained.

“When did you get home, babu?”

“Just now,” I lied smoothly. “Could you make me some tea?”

“Of course. Give me a couple of minutes to freshen up,” she replied, brushing past me on her way to the backyard bathroom. 

I watched her go. Even in her exhausted, disheveled state, there was an innate grace to her walk. I couldn't stop my mind from racing – was this deep exhaustion just the result of a sudden awakening from a heavy afternoon nap, or had Rambo put her through hell today?

[garamrohan]

Thank you Erotica, Waseem and Fing for your earlier comments, I hope you will like my recently posted update as well.

[garamrohan]

Thanks a lot Prabudmt, fing and Waseem. I will give next update in couple of days.

[garamrohan]

Why the sex session have skipped? What is the point to write a erotic story then?

Dear, I have my own style of writing and I go by it. Having said that, I am open to the feedback from reader and this is not short sex story and the readers also want it to be a long fantasy, please check the Poll results attached to this thread.

If you want to read quick sex, check my short stories.

[garamrohan]

Good to know you are liking the story deepika and desilund. I am going to post my next update late in the night. Hope you will enjoy it.

[garamrohan]

There was no wet dream for me that night. I was wide awake, masturbating furiously into a handkerchief until I cummed. The memory of the bathroom; the sights, the strong smell had haunted me. Closing my eyes offered no escape; my mind kept constructing graphic, torturous images of what that bastard Rambo guy had done to my mummy. 


I lay there resting, my chest heaving as sweat dried on my forehead. Exhausted by the release, I didn't even have the energy to get up and wash the dirty handkerchief. I simply tossed it aside, my eyelids growing heavy. 

Strangely, the guilt didn't come this time. Had Aditya’s words triggered the shift? It was highly likely. I was becoming resistant to carrying an overwhelming emotional burden. Instead of trying to suppress the powerful emotions erupting inside me, I was learning to accept them; and that included accepting my unnatural arousal. It was wrong, I knew that, but I needed to be kind to myself. These dark impulses weren't born of a filthy imagination; they were my subconscious mind's reaction to the terrible reality unfolding around me. I can’t fight right now, I realized. But I shouldn’t flee or lose hope either, my inner voice whispered. Until the right opportunity presented itself, accepting the situation and its twisted impact on my desires was the only way to stay sane.

It became a routine after that. Every fifth day or so, Rambo would be roaming around our area; specifically near our house. Though his pretext was of begging, I knew exactly what he wanted. It was a wicked, undeniable truth: my mummy, a beautiful, dignified, middle-aged woman from a respectable family – a mother to grown children, including a married daughter – had become his sexual obsession. She was now the outlet for his twisted desires. Mummy’s voluptuous body and dignified grace aroused him, and knowing her desperate need to protect the family's honor ensured him that she would never cry out for help.  Mummy’s alluring features, paired with her inherently fearful nature, had turned her into his permanent target. Her own natural beauty had tragically turned into a curse. 
  
And so, every afternoon, right after college, my scanning began. Was Mummy asleep? Was she wearing a different saree? I couldn't stop myself from locking myself in the backyard bathroom for an unusually long time, obsessively hunting for evidence. And sometimes, my curiosity didn't stop at mere observation. And occasionally, my curiosity pushed me beyond just looking… anyway. 

– 

On the morning of February twenty-eighth, I was busy preparing for the final mock tests scheduled that week. I sat back in a lounge chair with a book in one hand and a bowl of corn snacks in the other. Mummy always made the tastiest, spiciest snacks, and as I flipped through my notes, I asked her to make some more while I finished the current bowlful. 

Then suddenly I saw him.

He passed by the road without stopping at our door. Maybe he’d spotted me. I couldn’t stop counting the days on my fingers; it had been six days since I last found traces of his visit. The bastard was practically in heat, driven by pure animal urgency. My stomach churned resulting in a tight ache. Should I even go to college today? A sudden, chaotic train of panic raced through my head. 


I stood up and walked into the kitchen. Mummy was busy packing my lunchbox, looking like an absolute goddess in her neatly pleated, simple saree. But the peaceful image shattered the moment I remembered the dark truth that this pure, dignified woman was being hunted by a predator. Rambo guy was out there somewhere, just waiting for me to leave for college. 

"Kh... Kh... Khana"

That voice echoed from the verandah and I startled to the core. The pan in Mummy's hand slipped, and the sabji (vegetable) spilled onto the counter. She didn't look back at me. She couldn’t. But I could read the sheer, suffocating fear radiating from her. Her hands trembled as she stared straight ahead, trying to hide her face. She knew exactly who it was. The Rambo guy had arrived : the unwanted companion; master of her private afternoons. 
 
I gathered all my courage and went outside.

“What do you want?” I spoke with a level of confidence and arrogance that surprised even me.

He startled slightly, and then recovered; to ask for food in his usual, mad language.

“There’s no food for you here. And don’t ever come back, do you understand?” I yelled at him, my eyes radiating all of my anger and frustration.

He turned on his heel and walked away immediately. That made me feel full of pride. I knew deep down that this small victory hadn't permanently saved Mummy; he would almost certainly return the moment I wasn't around. But it was a critical, bold first step toward my ultimate plan to eliminate him from our lives forever.

I left for college that morning with a happy heart. Mummy looked relieved, too. At the very least, I had neutralized the immediate danger.

–

“Mind you, Aditya, I’m scoring better than you in English this time,” I teased him right after today's English mock test wrapped up.
We were sitting together on a bench, sharing our tiffins.

“Let’s see,” he replied with his usual cool attitude. “You’ve looked relaxed these days, man. Keep it up. You’ll do wonders if you don’t let stress overburden you… whatever the reason behind it may be.”

I smiled, feeling a quiet surge of gratitude. We had just finished eating when the peon appeared with a notice: a half-day off. It was month-end, and we were free for the rest of the day.

“Hey, let’s go play cricket,” one of our friends suggested. Everyone agreed instantly except for me. I had already resolved not to play cricket until exams were over. My true motive, of course, was to spend as much time as possible at home protecting Mummy, so I couldn't just give in. I should probably just sit in the library and study, I reasoned.

“What’s wrong with you, Rohan? What else are you going to do with the rest of your day? Go home and help your mummy with the laundry?” one boy mocked, leading to a burst of laughter from the others.

But suddenly that comment struck my mind. It was 2:30 in the afternoon. If I rushed home right this second, I could act as a barrier against Rambo guy and shield my mummy for at least another day. I picked up my bag and hurried toward the exit, leaving them all behind without uttering a single word. 
 
—


My footsteps became light and cautious as I neared the house, as if the slightest sound might expose a terrible secret. The moment I stepped onto the verandah, my stomach ached. Dropped in one corner was Rambo's dirty sack. The realization hit me like a physical blow: I was too late. The predator was already cornering his prey.

My entire body shook. For the first time in my life, I was about to cross a line I had never dared to face. I knew that walking inside could be disastrous. Finding me there wouldn't help; instead, it would utterly torment Mummy’s soul if she knew her own son had witnessed her in such a compromised position. Yet, I couldn't fight the overwhelming desire to look. I had seen him mounting her down by the river ghat once before, but it had been from a distance. As shameful as it was to admit, I hadn't been able to see the act clearly back then, especially with Mummy lying flat and mostly out of my view.

The house was completely quiet, but then I heard a tiny sound. It was a soft rustling movement coming from my parents' bedroom. To get close enough to see what was happening, I had to walk to the kitchen first. I took tiny, careful steps, making sure my feet didn't make a slighted sound. My heart was beating so hard and fast that it actually hurt my chest, and the loud thumping sound filled my ears. I stopped right outside the room and held my breath, terrified that they would hear me. Slowly, I leaned my head toward the small crack in the half-closed door and looked inside. In that exact second, my eyes went wide, and I saw something so awful it completely froze me in place. What I saw inside that room wasn't just awful; it was a visual crime, an act so profoundly taboo and illicit that even looking at it should be punished in hell. 

But my eyes stretched wide, with excitement and curiosity as much as with fear and disgust I saw mummy lying there on the bed, and she looked so helpless. She did not have any of her regular clothes on. Her colorful saree, blouse, and undergarments were tossed all over the floor and the chairs like trash. The only thing she had to protect herself was a single, thin shawl. She held onto it with all her strength, wrapping it around her chest and stomach like a shield. She was shaking all over, with her watery eyes tightly closed, and trying her absolute best to cover up as much of her skin as possible. She just wanted to hide from the terrible person who had broken into her private room, and now was standing next to bed in all his natural state and a monstrous, ugly, sticky penis pulsating at his groin.

[garamrohan]

Is that it for the day bro and leaving us hanging or coming more of updates?

When will you publish next update?

Ahaha! very interesting what will happen next, will save his mom or stand & see his mom as helpless son.

I have to tell truth here bro,....

This storyline is awesome but definitely need big update with pictures and elaborate more

You are writing a nice ....

Rambo's image

---

Thank you very much, Deepika, Desilund, Amjad, Ankita, prabudmt, the great one and Ghost, for the reply and letting me know you guys are reading the story. 


I am going to post next update late night today. (after 12 PM most likely, so you can also check tomorrow morning) 

Thank you very much Ghost for sharing your imagination of the Rambo with us. It looks apt and nasty.

[garamrohan]

She shrank back against the headboard the moment his knees hit the bed. He gave a filthy smile, displaying a row of decaying, yellowed teeth.

“No…” Mummy muttered weakly, her voice trembling. His eyes roamed hungrily over her shawl-covered frame, filled with uncontrollable lust.

“Majaa… give me maja…,” he growled. Reaching out, his rough hand grabbed her fair, bare arm and pulled her toward him. She moved reluctantly, like a terrified lamb that had already anticipated its slaughter, using her free hand to frantically keep the shawl pinned against her body.

“Come… come… do maja… like this… like this…” He pointed aggressively at a crumpled poster lying on the bed, its edges fluttering in the draft from the ceiling fan.

“I can’t… Leave me… For God’s sake,” Mummy pleaded, her voice thick with utter helplessness.

“Hmmmm…” he hummed deeply, his tone turning sharp and rigorous. It was clear he was entirely indifferent to her begs, and he wasn't about to listen to a single word. He wanted her to submit completely, to act exactly as he commanded.

He pulled her upward until she had no choice but to stand. His rough hands traced the curves of her body, running from her shoulders all the way to her hips. Witnessing her glowing skin and soft frame seemed to make him even more aggressive. His cock hardened, his nostrils started fluttering as his breathing turned thick and heavy.

He kept sweeping his hands over her body as if he couldn't believe his luck. Suddenly, he trapped the smooth skin of her forearm between his thumb and forefinger, rubbing it roughly. “Maja…” he whined. He buried his mouth against her bare skin, sucking greedily. His tongue darted up and down her arm like a wiper, slicking her skin with saliva as he tasted her with an insatiable, wild urgency.

She backed away a step, hesitantly, worrying if that will call wrath of the maniac. But with a sobbing face she stood there. He straightened up, looked sternly into her eyes and reached to her waist to pull her to him and she bumped on his chest, her hands struggling to keep hold of the shawl around her body. 

As his face came down on hers, she jerked her head to the side. He licked her exposed neck anyway, aggressively pushing for a kiss. Before she could move again, he framed her neck with both hands, locking her posture so she was entirely trapped. She managed only a muffled whimper, gathering strength to keep her lips away from his predatory mouth. Denied her lips, he settled for her soft cheek, his mouth consuming her soft skin, as he slurped and bit hungrily at the spot where his misplaced kiss had struck. 

Hungrily, he munched on her juicy lips, trying to crush his lips against hers for a full kiss. Mummy fought back silently, squeezing her lips tightly together to block him. He kept up the pressure, refusing to back down. Then, his fingers clawed at the thin shawl. He gave a hard jerk, fully determined to strip away her last piece of protection. 

“Nooooo!” she panicked, her voice cracking.

But with those words her lips parted, leaving them entirely vulnerable. Her delicate lips instantly became captive to his predatory mouth, and he ruthlessly seized the opportunity. He consumed her lips with a raw, aggressive kiss, silencing her cries beneath a heavy suffocation. 

His body kept grinding against hers, his hands heavily pressing the soft, shapely contours of her body beneath the thin shawl, even as he continued to brutally consume her lips. He tried another sudden, violent jerk to rip the shawl away. And mummy panicked in his mouth, but mummy’s alertness allowed her to clutch the fabric even tighter. Though her mouth remained helplessly trapped in the gross kiss, she refused to let him strip away her final defense.

As they struggled, their bodies turned in such a way that I was suddenly looking at exactly what a kiss looked like up close. This was the very first time I had ever witnessed a kiss. My throat went completely dry as the realization hit me, because this was nothing like the beautiful scenes in romantic movies, the stories I had heard from friends, or the gentle dreams I had imagined in my own mind.

It wasn't romantic at all; it was a literal looting. It was the total, violent taking over of my mummy without her consent. Rambo was consuming her mouth, ruthlessly drinking juice of her mouth and mixing his own with hers, as if that would turn her into his own property.

Mummy was panicking, her face flushing red from the lack of air. She tried to speak, but her voice was completely swallowed by his mouth, turning into tiny, muffled whimpers. He didn't care; he just locked his arms around her tighter, crushing her body against his. 

Suddenly, I looked down toward his stomach and froze. He was completely erect. His hard shaft stood rigid, reaching till his belly button, pulsing with aggression. The thick veins on his dark, sticky cock looked sharp and prominent, showing just how excited he had become and my misfortune - the lady he had a thing for was my own birthgiving mother.

The moment he finally pulled his mouth away, satisfied for now, mummy gasped for air, breathing heavily. As the pressure left her lips, her eyes filled with tears, and she began to sob quietly.

But he didn't give her a second to recover. “No crying… No… No crying… Only maja,” he growled, grabbing her shoulder and shaking her like a stubborn child would do. He pointed his finger aggressively back at the poster lying on the bed. “Like this… Like this… Maja like this!” he exclaimed, his voice shaking with a dark, unstable excitement.

She looked at the photo and cried, “I simply can’t do this.”

But Rambo was not someone who would listen. Referring to the torn movie poster on the bed, he began to awkwardly position his body, ruthlessly dragging mummy into place to force her to mirror the image. I could see the fragmented edges of the paper fluttering under the fan, but I couldn’t see the actual graphic.

Realizing she had no escape, a heavy, crushing helplessness settled over mummy. Her body finally went slack, her fierce resistance breaking as she stopped fighting.

“Haan…” Rambo chirped happily, his face lighting up with a sick satisfaction. “I maja… you maja… both maja.” He reached up and gently wiped the tears from her wet cheek, as if he was her caring husband. Probably, that day he was imagining himself as a hero of his life who is destined to get the mummy, just like a hero gets heroin in the bollywood movies. 

"Fuck..." I whispered to myself, sliding my zipper down to release the tight pressure in my pants, my eyes still locked onto the room. 

He caught her close with one hand around her waist, using the other to force her arm around his neck. Their bodies set together, with only her one free hand clutching the shawl between them. He grabbed that wrist of her as well, making it clear it was time for that arm to follow.

“No, please…” she panicked, but his grip was firm. He forcefully pressed her palm against his bare, hairy chest, though mummy managed to keep the shawl sandwiched as a barrier between them.

Suddenly, he slid his hand under her bare, plump thigh which was completely exposed, as the shawl was barely covering her torso. He lifted her leg, locking it around his waist. The movement brought their genitals into immediate, dangerous proximity. I was hard as rock, my mind burning with curiosity about what that poster actually is.

Rambo kept comparing their position to the poster, looking back and forth. My beautiful mummy was entirely his captive, and I knew that he was anyway going to have his way with her voluptuous body. But the weirdness of his actions like this poster pose thing was twisting my mind even further.

Something in the arrangement felt incomplete to him. A wicked smile appeared on his face as he figured it out. He reached for mummy’s neatly pinned bun. He unraveled the knot, piercing his dirty fingers deep into the strands. Her beautiful hair gave way, cascading down her back like a sheet of black rain. 

He glanced at the poster one more time, looking entirely content. Their faces were hardly an inch apart given the pose he had forced her into. He looked at her as if asking for her approval, but she simply lowered her eyes in shame and disgust. 

I was aroused, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t feel the absolute horror of mummy’s position. This filthy monster had looted her chastity so many times, and every single time, she had forced herself to survive the shock – for us, for our family. The moments during the assault were pure hell, but what about the mental toll she had to pay later on? Trying to calm herself, ensuring nobody else ever found out, and on top of everything, worrying about the infections and diseases that this shabby beggar could have carried into her body. 

I stared at his ugly face. Spiky, greying beard, a mess of tangled hair, and his unhealthy, rotting mouth. He leaned in toward mummy’s face to devour her beauty even more closely. Suddenly, the breeze from the window caught the poster on the bed. It flew off and landed face-up on the floor right near the door gap, revealing exactly what he wanted them to pose like.



"Fuck..." I muttered, freezing. I avoided the urge to touch my cock, my eyes darting back and forth between the graphic on the poster and the two people replicating it in real life right next to me.

I couldn’t stop doing the comparison. What was truly common between the print and the reality? Just the geometry of a pose. The core elements were entirely missing: basic human decency, a shared willingness. Mummy's natural, buxom beauty could have been relatable to the seductive, well-maintained actress of the film - “Khajuraho ki Rani”, despite both having completely different body features, but Rambo was a pile of shit next to the male actor, who was nothing more than a B-grade extra himself. 

The contrast between Rambo and mummy was sickening: a violent predator’s ugliness and aggressiveness crushing the elegance and beauty of my mummy. Her fair, curvy body entangled with his dark-skinned, dirty body, looked so taboo and arousing. As if a flawless, luminous moon trapped helplessly under the shadow of an eclipse. 

He installed his dirty mouth back over hers, and she had to serve him with her ever-juicy, luscious lips. The reality of the scene unfolding before me went far beyond the cheap graphic on that B-grade film poster.  Of course, this was just the starter for a predator like Rambo; he was preparing to consume the whole meal in his own twisted, unusual ways. 

The heat in the room became unbearable. The hissing and friction of the bodies increased as Rambo’s filthy kissing turned into dirty, salivating smooches and his hands moved like machinery on mummy’s soft body that was at his disposal only. He shut down every single attempt mummy made to pull her hands away from his neck or chest, forcefully trapping her in his grip. The pacing of the assault grew incredibly fast. He was aggressively squeezing her, crushing her against him, and draining her mouth without giving her a single second to catch her breath. Left with no choice, she moved only enough to keep her balance and maintain her grip on the shawl, anchoring her arm tightly around his neck for support while her other hand kept the fabric pressed flat at his chest.

“Hmmmmm” he groaned, full of irritation and with much pressure got that shawl off her body and threw it on the bed. Mummy let out a cry but that didn’t help and she was all nude in the room, just like her companion for now. 

My heart thumped violently, slamming against my ribs as I saw her stark naked for the very first time in my life. It feels shameful to even admit, but the thoughts formed in my mind : as a woman, her body was breathtaking. She possessed a soft, flawless, and beautifully curved body with the perfect proportion of shape - her thighs, her hips, and especially her breasts. I was entirely paralyzed, completely unable to take my eyes away from the sight. 

Mummy tried hopelessly to cover her boobs and groin area with her two hands full of beautiful green bangles. But it was too much to be covered by two hands. No wonder, psycho like Rambo had lost his patience. He buried his face hungrily into her chest, rubbing his rough face against the full, heavy curve of her breasts, which had no cover now; only the mangalsutra hanging on those, which had proven to be useless for protecting her for all this month or so.

“No… no… no…” Mummy whimpered, trying desperately to push his head away. But Rambo had already locked onto his target. I watched in absolute excitement and horror as he took her breast into his mouth. The sheer, overwhelming shock of the sight broke my body’s defenses; at that exact second, I came heavily in my pants, without my hand ever touching my cock. 

I backed myself away from the door, locking my hand over my mouth to suppress any sound before it could escape. Leaning against the wall, I waited for the room to stop spinning and for my lungs to stop burning. My mind and body had gone entirely numb due to the heavy exhaustion of the orgasm.

The strange noises from the bedroom never stopped. After about five or ten minutes, I forced myself to look through the gap in the door once more. Mummy was still standing in the same spot, her back turned toward me. Her loose, dark hair completely blanketed her smooth back, only partially revealing the striking, full globes of her ass. She was breathing heavily, letting out soft, reluctant sighs, and I realized Rambo had dropped down to his knees in front of her, still utterly driven to enjoy her mammeries.

The sickening, wet sounds continued without a pause: chyuk, chyuk, slurp. It was as if he was a hungry child latching onto her chest. Yet, there was nothing innocent about it. This hunger was predatory, a forbidden and primal sickness. He wasn’t feeding akin to a baby, to live; he was consuming her piece by piece for pure, carnal pleasure. 

He stood up, and from the movement of his arms, I could tell he was aggressively squeezing her big breasts. His eyes were completely bloodshot with lust; even that bizarre, unsettling smile had vanished from his lips. Only raw desire and a twisted sense of wonder remained on his face. He pressed and twisted her jugs for what felt like an eternity, while mummy could do nothing but let out quiet, exhausted sighs.

"So big dudu... so big majaa..." he muttered, staring down at her chest, his face completely blank of human emotion. He reached for her neck and flipped the mangalsutra over her shoulder so the pendant landed against her back. He wouldn't tolerate even the tiniest obstacle in his quest.

As he sat back down, the sloppy sounds started up all over again: slurp… chyuk… puk. The wet rhythm confirmed that his hungry mouth was locked onto her chest once more. The suction grew increasingly vigorous, the rising volume of the noise matching the intensity of mummy's reactions. At one point, the sensation became so overwhelming that she let out a sharp, breathless cry, throwing her head back and turning her face toward the door. For the first time in minutes, I caught a clear side-view of her face. Her eyes were tightly shut, her plump lower lips were pinned between her teeth to endure the stimulation. That view sent a jolt down my spine, making my cock come to life all over again. 

I watched, completely breathless, as he laid her flat on her back on the bed, never breaking his suction on her left breast. From my position at the door, the full extent of his hunger was quite visible. His mouth was moving aggressively, the pinkish-brown nipple and the delicate skin of her areola getting stretched, disappearing entirely into his mouth with every pull. Mummy squeezed her eyes shut even tighter, her chest heaving as a long, helpless sigh escaped her lips: “Aaaaah…” 

Her both breasts were shining with his dirty saliva. It was looking so gross and kinky at the same time. He grabbed her right breast with both his hands, pressing and turning it into different shapes and suddenly sucked on it.. As that nipple slipped out of his mouth, mummy let out another big moan “Aaaahh..” 

He kissed her aggressively, gripping her face tightly and suddenly stepped off the bed. I knew then that the final, devastating moment had arrived. He grabbed her by the ankles, pulling her across the bedsheet until her hips reached the very edge of the bed. Understanding her inescapable fate, mummy hid her eyes with her hands and began to sob quietly.

Now, her neatly kept, natural pubic hair that I had never seen before was exposed to me and it was looking extremely alluring on her fair body. Rambo became entirely restless, positioning himself right against her opening. My hand dropped to my pants, and I began to rub myself.

Rambo lifted her legs, pinning them against his chest. As he did, the glint of her silver anklet caught his eye. He deliberately knocked her ankles together, making the metal rings chime softly in the quiet room, before pressing a crude kiss against her foot.

"Majaa..." he growled, entirely consumed by the heat of the moment. With a sudden, heavy thrust, he forced himself deep inside her; penetrating the very place from which I had been brought into this world.

Mummy just sighed and Rambo furiously fucked her. His ass moved lightning fast and with clutching teeth he started giving powerful strokes into my mummy’s vagina, which had become his fun tool; and he was reaping extraordinary pleasure from it.

“Sloww… pls” she whined.

He kept fucking her faster, with a more chaotic rhythm as he buried himself inside her as deep as possible. I watched a white, foamy stuff begin to circle at the union of their sex organs. The contrast was sickening yet mesmerizing; though her mind never wanted to be with him, the raw, mechanical friction of his relentless hits had caused her body to submit to the physical reality of the act. Her juices were flowing and were getting mingled with Rambo’s precum. 

The furious fucking continued for nearly ten more minutes before his body finally went rigid and he collapsed heavily on top of her. Recognizing that it was over and that he would be leaving any moment, I carefully backed away from the door and slipped out of the house. I needed to hide in the deep shadows of the godown, waiting until Rambo went away and mummy had enough time to wash her body and sanitize the room before facing us again. 

[garamrohan]

Thanks all. Next update will come on Sunday night.

[garamrohan]

Sorry guys, struggling with time in this week. I will post the earliest or definitely on Saturday. Again sorry for making you guys wait.

[garamrohan]

waiting for it, please update( add pics and gifs)

Update please

????? UPDATE

Saturday over bro???

Please update it has been many days you have not updated your story.
The interest in such wonderful story becomes less and less when for many days and weeks writer doesn't update his story

update brother....please

Please provide an update on the situation—what happened? Why haven't you responded to the comments?

Need a big update,come back

where are please update

Daily visiting the thread, atleast 10 times per day... Please update brother or give a date of update...

Even if you cant update please reply

Hello guys, I am really busy with my professional work these days. I couldn't sit down for couple of hours to write few lines. Further it seems difficult to take out time this month, so no luck with writing this month :-(

But I will definitely rejuvenate the story in the coming month. I am so sorry to keep you suspended with excitement, but spare me of the time and like with my other stories, I assure you that I will complete this as well.

[garamrohan]

Will ever son come forward and tell mom about this maza and he will try  this maza

Sorry. The answer is no.

[garamrohan]

Hi garamrohan,
Thanks for your reply... Me too on the same boat, currently unemployed, looking for a new job. I understand your current state...focus on your career settle down then only your mind be free... Then continue your story writing work... But please don't forget we are waiting for your update

Thanks for understanding 

[garamrohan]

I was wondering when this turmoil would meet its end. The feeling was miserable – keeping count of Rambo 's visit to our house. I didn’t see my mummy in his embrace thereafter – but I no longer needed to, my heart already knew it. Golden were those 4-5 days when he used to disappear from our surroundings. But whenever he returned and wandered around our house after that gap, I was alarmed that he was on heat. I could read the same anticipation on my mummy’s troubled and helpless face.


There had been at least 6 encounters known to me. For those many I had strong reason to believe. I had got into the habit of taking note of whether mummy had changed into another saree in the evening, and if so, confirming the sexual encounter by going through her laundry in the dark bathroom in the backyard. 

I must admit here, as much as I was pissed off by this tragic situation, and was mindfully planning to resolve it once and for all; there were moments I used to get sexual arousal. And while I felt shame and guilt after masturbation, during those high moments my mind would just let go of all worries and get haunted by all the explicit images and thoughts of that dirty and strong Rambo with my beautiful, pious mummy and release loads of dopamine. 

Many times I had woken up with morning wood and dry throat and I had dreamed of mummy’s mating with Rambo – in different situations, in different  positions. And I relieved myself convinced that I will figure out a way out of it. 

And as I had already thought - Jiju was the only way out. That night's discussion between mummy and papa confirmed that.  

I woke up at midnight sometime and went for the toilet in the backyard. It was a full moon hence I managed to walk there without taking a torch or making any noise. While I was entering the kitchen from the backdoor, I overheard voices coming from my parent’s bedroom. 

The curiosity made me walk slowly and carefully by the walls until I reached the window. My parents used to keep the window open as it had a protective rod-frame and a curtain, which was half pulled at that night and was fluttering with the soothing breezes of summer night. 

And I was startled, I had forgotten that there was a honeycomb there and I could have touched that and caused havoc. Keeping an eye on that honeycomb which was getting enlarged day by day, I concentrated on carefully listening to what my parents were saying.

“Are you out of your mind, Madhurima? Don’t you know how much compromise I had to make to get this house?”, papa was panicking, “It will be a foolish decision to sell this house from a developing prime location and look elsewhere.”

“But the area is secluded and people here are not good,” mummy’s feeble voice. 

“You got to know this after all these years? You were all okay till now.”

“Please listen to me, can’t we rent it out if we don't sell and move to a place near your workplace? We will live in a rented house. It will also save your commute.” She was trying hard to convince her to leave the house and now I knew that she was not inactive. She was trying best in her capacity to escape from Rambo. 

“Absolutely rubbish idea,” Papa cried, “Why would a sane minded person leave such a good, healthy town and go live in a polluted area with a lot of industrial firms?” 

“I was just saying..” Mummy was still holding on to her weak defense.

“Shut up.” Papa said and there was silence for half a minute. 

I had just turned to go to my room but I heard something that froze my legs. My parents were whispering and I couldn’t stop myself from slowly peeking through the window corner.

Papa had held mummy’s shoulder and was asking her for sex.

What startled me was that mummy was in a night gown. I didn’t know she owned one. She probably wore it only in the bedroom while sleeping. Back then in the late 90’s it was not very common for middle-class house women to stay in their choice of clothes all day.

“It’s been 2 months,” He said, “The work tension has ruined it all. Feeling very relieved and excited today after this long time.”

Mummy replied something which I couldn’t make out.

“So what, I too want to wake up at 5. Let's wrap it up quickly,” saying that he got out of bed and undressed himself to full nudity. Mummy then moved to the center of the bed, with her hand on her eyes she was breathing heavily and her heavy chest was moving up and down in that moonlight. 

I was seeing this from no farther than 3-4 feets as their heads were towards the window only. And I was excited to see my parent’s lovemaking for the first time. I was eager to experience how people in a pious, respectful relationship like marriage do sex unlike the primal ravishing that had been exhibited by Rambo.

He got on the bed, between her legs. His one hand was shagging his semi erect penis. “Oh Madhurima…” he moaned as his free hand caressed mummy’s body over the gown and she sighed.

“Come close na,” she said in a lovely tone but papa ignored. He was all focused on getting a full erection. 

He just parted her legs and raised gown till her pubic area was open. I was not able to see anything apart from her plump and smooth thighs and healthy bush at her pubic. Papa started rubbing his penis on her pubic area while still holding its base and shagging in between.

The next two minutes he changed angles, tried different things, but it seemed he was not able to penetrate her. He let out a sigh of frustration, still railing himself on his knees between mummy’s legs.

My mummy sat up, stretched her hand and caressed his folder. “Easy.. don’t hurry.” 

“Would you please lay down, Madhurima.. Let me do it my way, or I will lose erection.” When he said this, he was not even half erect as he was earlier. His panic was having a bad effect.

Mummy laid back obediently, but before that, she undone the bun and tossed her hair free (maybe to entice my dad, I am not sure). So as she laid, her long hair traces spread over the pillow. That simple act accentuated her femininity. 

“Wow… you are so beautiful Madhurima.” Papa said as he sped up shagging and with free hand he pressed her left breast.

That made mummy sigh as “ummm” and it twitched my member in the pants. 

Quickly he got overexcited.. And started pushing his penis inside her, both his hands employed at the acts. Mummy also was helping by positioning herself appropriately and instructing him. 

“Not there… little below… no.. no.. little way up.. Han there only.”  

But to my utter surprise and pity, he didn’t penetrate her successfully even once. In fact, he didn’t get enough erection. And tired of himself, he lowered his neck and said, “ I won’t be able to do it today.” and angrily get out of bed. 

Mummy sat up again, adjusted her gown properly and pinned her freed hair again in the bun waiting for my papa. He came and sat at the edge of the bed, facing away from her. 

Mummy lovingly moved to him and embraced him from back.. Putting her head on his shoulder she said with utmost love and sincerity, “Don’t worry. I don’t want all this. Your love is all I want.” 

“I don’t believe this is happening to me,” He jerked his shoulder in wrath and pushed mummy away. 

“Don’t worry about it Ji, I really meant when I said this is not needed. But if you are so concerned why don’t you consult a doctor?” Mummy suggested in a fearful voice.

“Keep your mouth shut. I am not impotent, you idiot. I have had two kids with you. It’s just work pressure and it will get cured on its own.” 

Nobody spoke for a minute or so.

“You sleep now. We will try someday later.” papa said with an authoritative voice. Both of them slept at either edge of the bed, facing away from each other. 
I kept thinking about the pitiful situation mummy was facing while I walked to bed. Exploitation from a retarded person on one side, and the unsympathetic and toxic husband on the other side. The incident only firmed my will to rescue my mummy from this mess.

[garamrohan]

I wasn’t expecting the relief that soon.


Well, I knew that once Jiju came over to our place, I could get Rambo 's ass whipped by him, but there were still a good 15 days until Di's exam commenced. While I had made up my mind to wait for two more weeks, unexpectedly Di called and insisted mummy and papa go visit her home. 

Mummy readily accepted the invitation and well, this was indeed a relief for me cause now Rambo was not able to reach her from that very moment. While dad had managed to get leave for 3 days only, mummy was to stay there for all 15 days and came back along with Di and Jiju. 

I have been told to eat at a mess, and despite this inconvenience I was happy to have privacy for good 15 days. Although, I was not in position to afford wasting it all enjoying, as my board exams were approaching, too. 

So my  routine for the next 15 days was – wake up late, get ready leisurely and have breakfast in any random hotel at the market by 10 AM. Then return back and study till 1 PM. Then go to the mess and eat lunch. Thereafter, I typically used to roam and meet my friends, or come home and take a good nap til 4 PM. With a fresh mind, then I used to study for a couple of hours to leave home by 6-7 PM to wander and eat dinner only to get home for sleeping by 9 PM.

I was in touch with Aditya, my friend and competitor. We used to meet daily, either in the afternoon or in the evening and discuss about study and exams. A few of my classmates who were there with me in the cricket club used to also join us. 

I remember one morning when I opened the front door, Rambo was standing in the verandah with a face full of hope. I was startled for a minute, but then gathered courage and told him to get out. He went, taking a peek at our house in between. I couldn’t stop counting my fingers. It’s been close to a week since he had it with mummy last time.  

“No luck this time, you bastard!” I mumbled and got ready to go for breakfast.

Unexpectedly, I met all my classmates there, who were planning to see a movie on VCR. I was surprised that Aditya too, was coming to one of our friends’ house to see the movie. So I didn’t refrain and agreed to join them. I wanted to get done with the day’s study but. So I quickly finished the breakfast and returned home.

Something didn’t feel right, and when I opened the lock of the front door I felt somebody slip away from the backdoor. I got taken by sudden fright, but with that as well I managed to run towards the backyard. As I reached the backdoor of our kitchen, I saw Rambo jumping off the compound wall and disappearing on the backstreet. 

I collapsed to the threshold holding the door for support. The realization of Rambo breaking into our locked house had shaken me. Although, I shouldn’t have forgotten that mummy was going through such shocks regularly.

I went inside and looked after the mess that he had created. He had opened the fridge and half eaten apples were lying there. Fruits were all missing. I signed and walked towards my parents bedroom. 

Man… 

He had opened my mummy’s closet and all her sarees, blouses and other stuff were scattered in the room. My god.. What was really on his mind? This level of obsession that not finding mummy made him run through her clothes? I was strangely surprised, not sure what all her stuff he had carried out with him along with fruits in the fridge. And I was left with the duty to arrange the stuff properly. 

I got pisssed off and went to the backyard to check his traces. I walked till the compound wall, jumped to check the other side to find the road completely empty. As I turned back, I saw his dirty sack put at the corner of the door. 

My heart pounded, as I had previously seen him stuffing my mummy’s bra along with fruits inside that bag. And now it was evident that he has invaded both her closet as well as fridge. With a shaking hand I picked up the sack, turned back and confirmed no one was around and entered the kitchen with that sack.

I watched the sack for a good minute with confusion whether I should look at it or not.

Then hesitantly, I opened it and a stale odour, stench reached my nose. I dropped the bag out of disgust. But my eye had caught a glimpse of something that made me still approach it. With my nostrils closed with one hand and taking a stick I started taking the clothes out of that.

My head was spinning. He had stuffed almost 5-6 pairs of bras and panties into that dirty bag. Of course all those were my mummy’s belongings. I could also see the bra that he had carried with him on his first visit to our house. That bra has been stained, its cups have got holes and were smelling musky. I couldn’t even imagine the weird things he might be doing with her undergarments. I pushed everything back in the bag. Even the fresh undies he has just stolen needed serious washing if I want to keep it back in mummy's closet. I avoided that. 

I dumped the bag in its original place outside the door and ran to the bathroom. I was going to vomit, and then – shag like hell.

—

It took me 1:30 PM to reach my classmate’s home where the movie was arranged. As expected, everyone scolded me for being late, well not everyone – Aditya was sitting comfortably on the sofa and smiled at me. I sat beside him and we started watching the movie. 

As the parents of our host were out of town, we were at luxury to speak and act out more openly. And as I was suspecting in the morning, one of the friends took out the tape he had secretly borrowed there. 

“What is it?” the boys enquired excitedly.

“What else?” the boy carrying the cassette enacted fucking with his hand gesture and everyone chirpped.

“Wait.. wait.” This was not our plan,” Aditya tried to intervene.

But who was to listen to him? Within a minute the movie was stopped and this new cassette was inserted. I must say I was becoming addicted to the sexual stuff. After shagging and cumming vigorously just less than an hour ago, I was feeling my cock hardened and was wishing badly to see the sex recording. 

“Fuckkk… maalll … Chod de…”

“Pound that bitch…” boys had become horny and were crying out filthy statements.

The clip was Indian and if anyone has seen VCR days, was nowhere clear by today’s standard. But that was no less than treasure for us with limited resources that time. A fair, middle aged lady was literally getting ravished by a dark and ugly man of similar age. I was aroused because the scene was hot, but also for how much it resembled Rambo mounting on my mummy. Indeed in the clip as well, the lady didn’t look to have full consensus about the scene, but rather looked to be doing this for money or some other reasons.

While I was so intrigued, I noticed Aditya stood up and walked out of the room, just muttering, “Disgusting.”

It was hell difficult for me to detach myself from the kinky movie, but my soul said that catching Aditya was more important. He was truly my friend, someone whose indirect advice had kept my mind sane throughout the Rambo incidents.

“What happened?” I held his shoulder and stopped him and I felt him shivering. His whole body was shaking and I could see pain gathering into his watery eyes. 

“You okay?”

“I just can't fathom a woman's sexual degradation; treating her as an object of lust. Didn’t you see the movie, the lady wasn’t happy at all. How come someone enjoys seeing this.”, he said with tight fists. 

“Does anybody even understand what that lady might be going through? What does her closed one have to face in the future due to this? Does one have to go through it to understand this? Common guys, where is your conscience?” 

His panic was indisputable and I felt very ashamed for that even though it had happened to my own birth-giving mother – my dear mummy, I was enjoying the clip. 

I am sorry – was what I could say and I pressed his hands warmly and we departed to our respective houses. 

[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.

[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!

[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."