Yeah one more prologue issue #5 after that main story I will start. Thought of ending the prologue this issue only but felt it became a little too long.
English Sex Story My Mom is a Slut! Ft. Tamannah Bhatia
- Thread starter yametekudesai
- Start date
Thought of Ending the Prologue this issue but it dragged on a little.Will end it on Next issue. Then Main Story and New charachters will be Added one by one..
Making some Memes based on the story so far lol.. will share em.
Making some Memes based on the story so far lol.. will share em.
Just make Aakash fuck tammu accidentally bro
I will... But not rn.. Like i explicitly mentioned the Genre NTR+ Cuck.. but in future far future i will include.. no worries after the prologue finishes off I will get him laid with lots of women.
Some memes I have made so far.. 🤣
excellent bro
haha lol....
Some memes I have made so far.. 🤣
Update please
My Mom is a Slut! Issue #5
Genre: MILF, Netorare, Cheating, Cuckold
The Hypnotist’s Visit
The morning sun barely filtered through my curtains, casting a dim glow across my cluttered room. My phone buzzed, yanking me out of a dreamless sleep. Varun’s name flashed on the screen. I fumbled to answer, my voice thick with grogginess. “Yo, what time is it?”
“Eight-thirty, lazy ass,” Varun said, his tone sharp but excited. “Get up. The hypnotist’s coming at ten. I’m on my way to your place now. Be ready.”
I sat up, rubbing my eyes, the events of the past days crashing back—Mom’s affairs, the tapes, Varun’s dad, Kriti’s return, and my humiliating close call when Mom caught me. But today felt different. Today, we had a plan. “Alright, man,” I said. “I’m up. See you soon.”
The morning sun barely filtered through my curtains, casting a dim glow across my cluttered room. My phone buzzed, yanking me out of a dreamless sleep. Varun’s name flashed on the screen. I fumbled to answer, my voice thick with grogginess. “Yo, what time is it?”
“Eight-thirty, lazy ass,” Varun said, his tone sharp but excited. “Get up. The hypnotist’s coming at ten. I’m on my way to your place now. Be ready.”
I sat up, rubbing my eyes, the events of the past days crashing back—Mom’s affairs, the tapes, Varun’s dad, Kriti’s return, and my humiliating close call when Mom caught me. But today felt different. Today, we had a plan. “Alright, man,” I said. “I’m up. See you soon.”
I dragged myself out of bed, splashing cold water on my face to shake off the haze. Downstairs, Mom was in the kitchen, humming as she brewed chai, her saree clinging to her curves in that effortless way that used to feel comforting but now just twisted my gut. She looked up, smiling. “Morning, beta. Want some chai?”
“Yeah, sure,” I mumbled, avoiding her eyes. She seemed so normal, so unaware of the storm she’d unleashed. I sipped the chai, the warmth doing nothing to calm the knot in my stomach. Varun’s warning about the tapes echoed in my head—she’s unhinged—and I wondered what else she’d done in those recordings I hadn’t seen.
“Yeah, sure,” I mumbled, avoiding her eyes. She seemed so normal, so unaware of the storm she’d unleashed. I sipped the chai, the warmth doing nothing to calm the knot in my stomach. Varun’s warning about the tapes echoed in my head—she’s unhinged—and I wondered what else she’d done in those recordings I hadn’t seen.
The doorbell rang, and my heart jumped. Varun. I rushed to open it, finding him standing there with a woman I didn’t recognize. She was in her early 30s, petite, with sharp eyes and a calm, almost unnerving presence. Her dark hair was pulled into a tight bun, and she carried a small leather bag. “Akash, this is Dr. Alia,” Varun said, his voice low. “The hypnotist.”
“Nice to meet you, Akash,” Alia said, her voice smooth, professional. “Varun’s told me enough to understand the situation. Let’s keep this discreet, alright?”
“Nice to meet you, Akash,” Alia said, her voice smooth, professional. “Varun’s told me enough to understand the situation. Let’s keep this discreet, alright?”
I nodded, my throat tight. “Yeah, thanks for coming. Let’s… let’s do this.”
Mom appeared in the doorway, her smile faltering as she saw Meera. “Varun, who’s this?” she asked, her tone curious but guarded.
“Tamannah Bhabhi, this is Dr. Alia,” Varun said smoothly. “She’s a family friend, a therapist. I thought she could help with… stress. You’ve been working hard, and with Akash’s exams coming up, maybe you two could chat?”
Mom raised an eyebrow, glancing at me, then back at Alia. “Stress? I’m fine, Varun. But… sure, I’ll talk. Come in, Alia-ji.” She gestured toward the living room, her politeness masking her suspicion.
Mom appeared in the doorway, her smile faltering as she saw Meera. “Varun, who’s this?” she asked, her tone curious but guarded.
“Tamannah Bhabhi, this is Dr. Alia,” Varun said smoothly. “She’s a family friend, a therapist. I thought she could help with… stress. You’ve been working hard, and with Akash’s exams coming up, maybe you two could chat?”
Mom raised an eyebrow, glancing at me, then back at Alia. “Stress? I’m fine, Varun. But… sure, I’ll talk. Come in, Alia-ji.” She gestured toward the living room, her politeness masking her suspicion.
We sat down, the air thick with tension. Alia took the lead, her voice calm but commanding. “Tamannah, I specialize in helping people process difficult emotions, especially when life feels overwhelming. Varun mentioned you’ve been under pressure—work, family, all of it. I’d like to try a relaxation technique, something to help you unwind. It’s non-invasive, just a guided meditation.”
Mom hesitated, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her saree. “I don’t know… I’m not really into this kind of thing.” “It’s just a conversation,” Alia said, her smile disarming. “No pressure. We can stop anytime.”
Mom hesitated, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her saree. “I don’t know… I’m not really into this kind of thing.” “It’s just a conversation,” Alia said, her smile disarming. “No pressure. We can stop anytime.”
Mom sighed, glancing at me. “Alright, fine. For Akash’s sake. He’s been… off lately.” Her eyes flicked to me, and I looked away, my face burning. Did she suspect I knew more than I was letting on?
Varun and I excused ourselves, retreating to the kitchen under the pretense of getting water. “She’s good,” Varun whispered. “Alia's done this before—helped my cousin quit smoking. If anyone can get your mom to forget the last two weeks, it’s her.”
I nodded, my stomach churning. “What if it doesn’t work? What if she figures out what we’re doing?”
“Then we’re fucked,” Varun said bluntly. “But Alia's pro. She’ll plant the suggestion to dial back her… behavior, make her think twice about risky shit. Trust me.”
From the living room, I heard Alia's voice, low and rhythmic, guiding Mom into a trance. “Breathe deeply, Tamannah. Feel your body relax, your mind opening. Let go of the tension…” I peeked through the doorway, watching as Mom’s shoulders softened, her eyes fluttering closed. Alia's hands moved in slow, deliberate gestures, her voice a steady hum.
“She’s under,” Varun whispered. “This is it.”
Alia's tone shifted, more direct. “Tamannah, you’re in a safe place now. I want you to think about the last two weeks. You’ve been feeling restless, acting on impulses. Those impulses aren’t you. They’re a temporary fog. When you wake up, you’ll feel clear, focused on your family, your work, your son, your husband. You’ll let go of distractions, of reckless choices. You’ll choose stability, love, and responsibility. Nod if you understand.”
Mom nodded slowly, her face serene. My chest tightened—hope, fear, and guilt all tangled together. Was this really going to fix her? Fix us?
Alia continued, her voice firm. “You’ll forget the details of these impulsive moments. They’ll fade like a dream, leaving only a sense of calm. You’ll focus on being the mother Akash needs, the professor your students respect, the wife your husband deserves. When I snap my fingers, you’ll wake up refreshed, ready to move forward.”
She snapped her fingers. Mom’s eyes opened, blinking slowly. She looked around, confused, then smiled faintly. “Wow… that was… relaxing. I feel… lighter.”
Alia smiled. “Good. That’s the goal. Take it easy today, Tamannah. Focus on what matters.”
Mom nodded, standing. “Thank you, Meera-ji. I didn’t expect that to help, but it did.” She glanced at me, her smile warm but tinged with something I couldn’t read. “Akash, beta, you okay?”
“Yeah, Mom,” I said, my voice shaky. “I’m fine.”
Alia continued, her voice firm. “You’ll forget the details of these impulsive moments. They’ll fade like a dream, leaving only a sense of calm. You’ll focus on being the mother Akash needs, the professor your students respect, the wife your husband deserves. When I snap my fingers, you’ll wake up refreshed, ready to move forward.”
She snapped her fingers. Mom’s eyes opened, blinking slowly. She looked around, confused, then smiled faintly. “Wow… that was… relaxing. I feel… lighter.”
Alia smiled. “Good. That’s the goal. Take it easy today, Tamannah. Focus on what matters.”
Mom nodded, standing. “Thank you, Meera-ji. I didn’t expect that to help, but it did.” She glanced at me, her smile warm but tinged with something I couldn’t read. “Akash, beta, you okay?”
“Yeah, Mom,” I said, my voice shaky. “I’m fine.”
Alia packed her bag, giving Varun a subtle nod. We walked her to the door, and she leaned in, whispering, “It worked, but it’s not a cure-all. She needs support—real support. Therapy, if she’ll go. Keep an eye on her.”
“Thanks, Alia,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. She left, and Varun clapped my shoulder.
“Told you she’s legit,” he said. “Now we just gotta make sure Rahman and my dad stay away. I’ve got it handled. You good?”
“Yeah,” I lied, my mind racing. Mom seemed different—calmer, more like the mom I remembered. But the tapes, the memories, the twisted thrill I’d felt watching them… those didn’t vanish with a snap of Alia's fingers.
Later That Day
Mom was in the kitchen, cooking dinner, humming again. I watched her from the doorway, trying to see her as just my mom, not the woman from the tapes. She caught me staring and smiled. “What’s with you today, beta? You’re so quiet.”
“Just… thinking about exams,” I said, forcing a smile. “Need to study.”
“Good boy,” she said, ruffling my hair. “You’ll do great. I believe in you.”
“Thanks, Alia,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. She left, and Varun clapped my shoulder.
“Told you she’s legit,” he said. “Now we just gotta make sure Rahman and my dad stay away. I’ve got it handled. You good?”
“Yeah,” I lied, my mind racing. Mom seemed different—calmer, more like the mom I remembered. But the tapes, the memories, the twisted thrill I’d felt watching them… those didn’t vanish with a snap of Alia's fingers.
Later That Day
Mom was in the kitchen, cooking dinner, humming again. I watched her from the doorway, trying to see her as just my mom, not the woman from the tapes. She caught me staring and smiled. “What’s with you today, beta? You’re so quiet.”
“Just… thinking about exams,” I said, forcing a smile. “Need to study.”
“Good boy,” she said, ruffling my hair. “You’ll do great. I believe in you.”
I nodded, retreating to my room. My PC sat there, the hard drive empty now, the tapes gone. But the images were seared into my brain—Mom with Rahman, Girish, Vivek. I wanted to believe Meera’s hypnosis would fix everything, that Mom would go back to being the perfect mother, that I could forget the sick rush I’d felt. But part of me wasn’t sure.
My phone buzzed. A text from Varun: Rahman’s out. Threatened to expose his shady college deals. He won’t come near your mom again. My dad’s next. Hang tight.
I exhaled, relief mixing with unease. Rahman was gone, but Girish was still out there, and Vivek—Varun’s dad—was a ticking bomb. And Kriti… seeing her with Varun still stung, even if he swore they were just friends. I didn’t know what to feel anymore.
I opened my textbook, trying to focus, but my mind wandered. Mom’s laughter from the kitchen drifted upstairs, and for a moment, it felt like the old days—before the tapes, before the betrayal. I wanted to hold onto that feeling, to believe we could be normal again.
But deep down, I knew it wasn’t over. Mom’s impulses, my obsession, the secrets we were all keeping—they were still there, simmering under the surface. And I couldn’t shake the fear that one wrong move would bring it all crashing down.
My phone buzzed. A text from Varun: Rahman’s out. Threatened to expose his shady college deals. He won’t come near your mom again. My dad’s next. Hang tight.
I exhaled, relief mixing with unease. Rahman was gone, but Girish was still out there, and Vivek—Varun’s dad—was a ticking bomb. And Kriti… seeing her with Varun still stung, even if he swore they were just friends. I didn’t know what to feel anymore.
I opened my textbook, trying to focus, but my mind wandered. Mom’s laughter from the kitchen drifted upstairs, and for a moment, it felt like the old days—before the tapes, before the betrayal. I wanted to hold onto that feeling, to believe we could be normal again.
But deep down, I knew it wasn’t over. Mom’s impulses, my obsession, the secrets we were all keeping—they were still there, simmering under the surface. And I couldn’t shake the fear that one wrong move would bring it all crashing down.
To be continued...
Small Issue one more Issue for Prologue
My Mom is a Slut! Issue #6
Genre: MILF, Netorare, Cheating, Cuckold
Dad’s Return
The past week had been eerily normal, like the world had hit reset. Mom was back to her routine—cooking, sweeping, binge-watching her web series, running errands, and hauling grocery bags like nothing had ever happened. No Rahman, no Girish, no Vivek. I’d even stalked her a few times, trailing her through the market or down quiet streets, half-expecting to catch her sneaking off to some shady rendezvous. But nothing. She was just Mom again, smiling as she made my favorite parathas, nagging me about my exams. I should’ve been thrilled. Meera’s hypnosis had worked, hadn’t it? She’d erased Mom’s reckless streak, brought her back to the woman who packed my lunch and hugged me goodnight. But I wasn’t happy. I was pissed, restless, itching for something I couldn’t name. Why did I keep wishing I’d stashed those tapes somewhere safe, copied them before Varun wiped my PC clean? He’d seen every second of Mom’s affairs—Rahman, Girish, his own dad—and I hadn’t. It wasn’t fair. I hated the part of me that craved that sick thrill, that wanted to watch her fall apart again, but it was there, clawing at me.
Dad’s Return
The past week had been eerily normal, like the world had hit reset. Mom was back to her routine—cooking, sweeping, binge-watching her web series, running errands, and hauling grocery bags like nothing had ever happened. No Rahman, no Girish, no Vivek. I’d even stalked her a few times, trailing her through the market or down quiet streets, half-expecting to catch her sneaking off to some shady rendezvous. But nothing. She was just Mom again, smiling as she made my favorite parathas, nagging me about my exams. I should’ve been thrilled. Meera’s hypnosis had worked, hadn’t it? She’d erased Mom’s reckless streak, brought her back to the woman who packed my lunch and hugged me goodnight. But I wasn’t happy. I was pissed, restless, itching for something I couldn’t name. Why did I keep wishing I’d stashed those tapes somewhere safe, copied them before Varun wiped my PC clean? He’d seen every second of Mom’s affairs—Rahman, Girish, his own dad—and I hadn’t. It wasn’t fair. I hated the part of me that craved that sick thrill, that wanted to watch her fall apart again, but it was there, clawing at me.
It was late, past 11 p.m., and my exams loomed tomorrow. My brain was mush from cramming formulas and physics laws. I collapsed onto my bed, the springs creaking, and let sleep drag me under. But it didn’t last. A loud thud snapped me awake—footsteps, heavy and deliberate, echoing from upstairs. I checked my phone: 12:03 a.m. Lights glowed from the hallway above. Mom was still up? I rubbed my eyes, my vision blurry, and stumbled out of bed, my heart already racing. Then I heard her laugh, soft and needy, followed by, “It’s tickling…” and a man’s low chuckle.
My stomach twisted. Flashbacks hit hard—Rahman’s voice, Mom’s moans, the creak of the bed. Not again. I crept up the stairs, barefoot, silent, my pulse pounding in my ears. Light spilled from the upstairs hallway, and as I reached the top, I saw them. Mom stood in the middle, stark naked, her skin shimmering under the chandelier’s glow. One leg was raised, held gently in a man’s hands as he knelt before her, his tongue lapping at her foot like a devoted puppy, tracing her toes with care. Mom giggled, her head tilted back, her breasts swaying softly, her expression one of pure, desperate need. She looked… happy. Alive.
I leaned closer, my heart hammering, my cock hardening despite the storm in my head. What the fuck was wrong with me? Then I saw his face—graying hair, weathered skin, the familiar hard lines softened by something tender. It was Dad. My fucking dad. He’d returned from his industrial visit yesterday, and in less than a day, they were like this? Alia's hypnosis was some kind of miracle, because no way Mom would’ve let him touch her otherwise—not after years of fights, of him banished to the guest house, of her fucking other men. But here she was, smiling, her eyes sparkling with a warmth I hadn’t seen in forever.
This should’ve been okay. It was Dad, her husband, not some sleazy stranger. Meera’s work had brought them back together, right? But anger burned in my chest, hot and bitter. I hated Dad—his distance, his criticism, the way he’d ignored me for years. Worse, I hated how this didn’t feel as wrong as it should’ve. I hated that I was hard, that twisted part of me stirring, wanting to watch. I stayed, hidden in the shadows, my breath shallow, unable to look away.
Dad’s tongue glided along the arch of Mom’s foot, slow and reverent, his hands cradling her ankle like it was something sacred. “Tamannah, your skin’s like silk,” he murmured, his voice thick with longing. “Missed every inch of you.”
Dad’s tongue glided along the arch of Mom’s foot, slow and reverent, his hands cradling her ankle like it was something sacred. “Tamannah, your skin’s like silk,” he murmured, his voice thick with longing. “Missed every inch of you.”
Mom’s breath hitched, her eyes half-lidded, needy. “Anil… please,” she whispered, her voice trembling with want. She wiggled her toes, urging him on, her body swaying slightly as she balanced on one leg. “Don’t tease me… I need you.”
Dad looked up, his eyes dark with hunger, and stood, pulling her close, her naked curves pressing against his half-unbuttoned shirt. “Need me, huh?” he said, his voice low, almost surprised. “Goddamn, Tammu, you’re making it hard to go slow.”
Mom’s hands fumbled with his shirt, her fingers shaking as she tore it open, buttons scattering across the floor. “I don’t want slow,” she breathed, her lips brushing his chest, kissing the gray hair there. “I’ve missed you so much, Anil. Please… make me feel you.” Her voice was desperate, her hands roaming his body, tugging at his belt with frantic urgency.
Dad groaned, his hands sliding down her waist, gripping her hips. “Fuck, Tammu, you’re begging for it,” he said, his tone rough but laced with awe. He let her undo his belt, his pants dropping to reveal his cock—thick, veined, straining with need. I swallowed hard, my own erection throbbing in my shorts. This was so fucked up, but I was rooted to the spot, my hand slipping down, stroking myself.
Mom’s eyes widened at the sight of him, her fingers wrapping around his length, stroking softly, almost worshipfully. “God, Anil, you’re so big,” she murmured, her voice dripping with lust. “I forgot how good you feel.” She sank to her knees, her lips brushing the tip, her tongue darting out to taste him.
Dad looked up, his eyes dark with hunger, and stood, pulling her close, her naked curves pressing against his half-unbuttoned shirt. “Need me, huh?” he said, his voice low, almost surprised. “Goddamn, Tammu, you’re making it hard to go slow.”
Mom’s hands fumbled with his shirt, her fingers shaking as she tore it open, buttons scattering across the floor. “I don’t want slow,” she breathed, her lips brushing his chest, kissing the gray hair there. “I’ve missed you so much, Anil. Please… make me feel you.” Her voice was desperate, her hands roaming his body, tugging at his belt with frantic urgency.
Dad groaned, his hands sliding down her waist, gripping her hips. “Fuck, Tammu, you’re begging for it,” he said, his tone rough but laced with awe. He let her undo his belt, his pants dropping to reveal his cock—thick, veined, straining with need. I swallowed hard, my own erection throbbing in my shorts. This was so fucked up, but I was rooted to the spot, my hand slipping down, stroking myself.
Mom’s eyes widened at the sight of him, her fingers wrapping around his length, stroking softly, almost worshipfully. “God, Anil, you’re so big,” she murmured, her voice dripping with lust. “I forgot how good you feel.” She sank to her knees, her lips brushing the tip, her tongue darting out to taste him.
“Fuck, Tammu,” Dad groaned, his hand tangling in her hair, guiding her gently. “You’re killing me. Suck it, baby, please.” His voice was raw, pleading, as if he couldn’t believe she was his again.
She obeyed, her lips parting, taking him deep, her moans muffled as she worked him, her hands steadying his thighs. Her eyes flicked up, locking onto his, full of devotion and hunger. She pulled back, gasping, a strand of saliva connecting her lips to his cock. “I want you so bad,” she whispered, kissing his shaft, her tongue swirling. “I need you inside me, Anil. Now.”
She obeyed, her lips parting, taking him deep, her moans muffled as she worked him, her hands steadying his thighs. Her eyes flicked up, locking onto his, full of devotion and hunger. She pulled back, gasping, a strand of saliva connecting her lips to his cock. “I want you so bad,” she whispered, kissing his shaft, her tongue swirling. “I need you inside me, Anil. Now.”
Dad pulled her up, his hands rough but loving, and kissed her hard, their tongues clashing, her moans loud and desperate. “You’re so fucking perfect,” he growled against her lips, his hands cupping her breasts, squeezing gently, his thumbs brushing her nipples until she whimpered. “Beg for it, Tammu. Tell me how much you want this.”
“Please, Anil,” she gasped, her nails digging into his shoulders, her body trembling. “Fuck me. I need you so bad it hurts. Make me yours again.” Her voice cracked, her eyes glistening with need as she pressed herself closer, her hips grinding against him.
“Please, Anil,” she gasped, her nails digging into his shoulders, her body trembling. “Fuck me. I need you so bad it hurts. Make me yours again.” Her voice cracked, her eyes glistening with need as she pressed herself closer, her hips grinding against him.
He lifted her, pinning her against the hallway wall, her legs wrapping around his waist. “You’re mine,” he said, his voice thick with possession, as he positioned himself at her entrance. “Always been mine.” He thrust into her, slow at first, letting her adjust, and she cried out, her head thrown back, her breasts bouncing with each movement.
“Oh, God, Anil!” Mom screamed, her voice raw, her nails clawing at his back. “It’s so good… fuck, don’t stop!” Her body rocked against him, her hips meeting his thrusts, her moans filling the hallway. I gripped the wall, my hand moving faster, my breath ragged. This was Dad, not Rahman, not some stranger. But the sight of her—lost, begging, completely his—hit me harder than anything on those tapes.
“Fuck, Tammu, you’re so tight,” Dad groaned, his pace quickening, his hands gripping her ass, lifting her higher. “Missed this pussy. Missed you screaming for me.”
“I’m screaming now,” she panted, her voice breaking as she clung to him. “Fuck me harder, Anil. I want all of you.” Her legs tightened around him, pulling him deeper, her moans turning into sobs of pleasure. “I love you… fuck, I love you so much.”
“Love you too, baby,” he grunted, his thrusts relentless, the wall creaking under their weight. “Gonna make you cum so hard you forget everything but me.” His hand slid between them, rubbing her clit, and she screamed, her body shaking, her juices dripping down his thighs.
“Yes, yes, Anil!” she cried, her voice hoarse, her eyes rolling back as she came, her body convulsing in his arms. “Don’t stop… please, I’m yours!”
Dad roared, his thrusts erratic, and with one final push, he came inside her, his body shuddering, his grip bruising her hips. “Fuck, Tammu,” he panted, holding her close, their bodies slick with sweat. “You’re everything.”
“Oh, God, Anil!” Mom screamed, her voice raw, her nails clawing at his back. “It’s so good… fuck, don’t stop!” Her body rocked against him, her hips meeting his thrusts, her moans filling the hallway. I gripped the wall, my hand moving faster, my breath ragged. This was Dad, not Rahman, not some stranger. But the sight of her—lost, begging, completely his—hit me harder than anything on those tapes.
“Fuck, Tammu, you’re so tight,” Dad groaned, his pace quickening, his hands gripping her ass, lifting her higher. “Missed this pussy. Missed you screaming for me.”
“I’m screaming now,” she panted, her voice breaking as she clung to him. “Fuck me harder, Anil. I want all of you.” Her legs tightened around him, pulling him deeper, her moans turning into sobs of pleasure. “I love you… fuck, I love you so much.”
“Love you too, baby,” he grunted, his thrusts relentless, the wall creaking under their weight. “Gonna make you cum so hard you forget everything but me.” His hand slid between them, rubbing her clit, and she screamed, her body shaking, her juices dripping down his thighs.
“Yes, yes, Anil!” she cried, her voice hoarse, her eyes rolling back as she came, her body convulsing in his arms. “Don’t stop… please, I’m yours!”
Dad roared, his thrusts erratic, and with one final push, he came inside her, his body shuddering, his grip bruising her hips. “Fuck, Tammu,” he panted, holding her close, their bodies slick with sweat. “You’re everything.”
She collapsed against him, her breath ragged, her lips finding his in a soft, lingering kiss. “I missed you so much,” she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. “Don’t leave me again.”
“Never,” he murmured, kissing her forehead, her cheeks, her lips. “I’m back, Tammu. For good.”
They stayed like that, wrapped in each other, her body pressed against the wall, his arms holding her like she might disappear. I stood there, my hand sticky, my shorts ruined, my heart a mess of relief and rage. This was different from the tapes—loving, not just lustful—but it hurt more. Maybe because it was Dad, the man I’d hated for so long, now reclaiming her. Or maybe because I was jealous, twisted as that was, of the way she gave herself to him so completely.
“Never,” he murmured, kissing her forehead, her cheeks, her lips. “I’m back, Tammu. For good.”
They stayed like that, wrapped in each other, her body pressed against the wall, his arms holding her like she might disappear. I stood there, my hand sticky, my shorts ruined, my heart a mess of relief and rage. This was different from the tapes—loving, not just lustful—but it hurt more. Maybe because it was Dad, the man I’d hated for so long, now reclaiming her. Or maybe because I was jealous, twisted as that was, of the way she gave herself to him so completely.
Back to My Room
I backed away, my legs unsteady, and crept downstairs, my mind a blur of shame and arousal. I didn’t want to see more, didn’t want to hear their soft whispers or see the way she looked at him. I locked my door, peeled off my soaked shorts, and collapsed onto my bed, my body still buzzing. The image of Mom, begging and needy, Dad’s hands claiming her—it was seared into me, more vivid than any tape. But this was supposed to be right. They were married, in love again, thanks to Meera. So why was I so angry? Why did I feel like I’d lost her to him?
I punched my pillow, frustration boiling over. “Fuck it,” I muttered, pulling the blanket over me. My exams were tomorrow. I had to focus, had to let this go. The tapes were gone, Mom was back to normal, and Dad was home. This was what I’d wanted. I forced my eyes closed, their laughter fading into the distance, and drifted into a restless sleep, haunted by her moans and the love in her eyes that wasn’t for me.
I punched my pillow, frustration boiling over. “Fuck it,” I muttered, pulling the blanket over me. My exams were tomorrow. I had to focus, had to let this go. The tapes were gone, Mom was back to normal, and Dad was home. This was what I’d wanted. I forced my eyes closed, their laughter fading into the distance, and drifted into a restless sleep, haunted by her moans and the love in her eyes that wasn’t for me.
Next Morning
The next morning, Mom sat me down and explained that Dad was moving back in for good, her voice soft but firm, a faint blush on her cheeks as she spoke. It was awkward at first, the air thick with unspoken history, but Dad was different—less bitter, more present, even cracking a few lame jokes at breakfast. He’d been promoted to Head of Department after Rahman mysteriously resigned, and our family slid back into a kind of normality I hadn’t known in years. Every night, though, Mom’s moans echoed through the house, their passionate reunions a constant reminder of what I’d witnessed, but I gritted my teeth and endured it, focusing on my exams and trying to bury the twisted feelings those tapes had stirred. Time sped by, days turning into weeks, and the chaos of the past—Rahman, Girish, Vivek, the tapes—faded like a bad dream, leaving me with a family that was whole again, even if I couldn’t quite shake the lingering unease in my chest.
PROLOGUE ENDS...
PROLOGUE ENDS...
So next part will be set 3 years later and probably change the title?
No...I think it's a good title
My Mom is a Slut! Issue #7
Genre: MILF, Netorare, Cheating, CuckoldTwo Years Later: First Day at College
Two years had flown by, and life had settled into a rhythm I could almost call normal. I was 21 now, starting my first day at the same engineering college where Mom and Dad taught. Nervous didn’t even begin to cover it—my stomach churned like I’d swallowed a live snake. I’d moved out of the house, living in a small flat near campus, a deal Dad insisted on to “make me a man.”
He paid the rent and gave me decent pocket money, so I wasn’t complaining. I cooked my own meals, washed my own clothes, and felt like I was finally getting a grip on life. No uniform meant I could wear whatever the hell I wanted, and I took it seriously—ironing my crisp white shirt and black pants, scrubbing myself clean, splashing on cologne to make a solid first impression. Slinging my bag over my shoulder, I walked the 15-minute stretch to college, the morning air chilly, my belly twisting with anxiety. All is well, man, all is well, I chanted to myself, but the nerves wouldn’t quit. The campus gate buzzed with students—laughing, joking, all of them seeming to know each other. I felt like an outsider; none of my school friends had joined this college, most of them scattering to other states. I missed their easy banter, their familiar faces.
Stepping onto campus, I found my classroom after a few wrong turns, my heart pounding as I walked in. The room was packed, every head turning to stare at me like I’d just crashed their party. Fuck, what do I say? The silence was deafening, my face burning under their gazes. Then I spotted a familiar face near the back, by the window—Varun, laughing with a girl. She was stunning—fair skin, long hair, a smile that could stop traffic. My eyes narrowed as I got closer, and then it hit me. Kriti. My childhood crush, the girl I’d pined for years ago, standing there like a ghost from my past. “Yo, Varun, my man!” I called out, striding toward them.
Varun didn’t move at first, but when he saw me, his face went from shock to something like terror. “Akash? You? Here? How? I mean… why… what the fuck are you doing here?” he stammered, his eyes darting to Kriti.
A smooth voice cut through. “Akash? The Akash? Wow, remember me?” I turned, and there she was—Kriti, her eyes sparkling, her smile warm but teasing. I glanced at Varun, his expression shifting to guilt, like he’d been caught red-handed.
A smooth voice cut through. “Akash? The Akash? Wow, remember me?” I turned, and there she was—Kriti, her eyes sparkling, her smile warm but teasing. I glanced at Varun, his expression shifting to guilt, like he’d been caught red-handed.
“Kriti, wow,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt. “Haven’t seen you in ages, but yeah, I remember you.” My heart did a weird flip, old feelings stirring. “Same college, same class—what a coincidence, right?”
She laughed, nodding. “Totally! Small world, huh?”
Varun looked like he wanted to sink into the floor, his disappointment palpable. Something was off. Were they… together? The thought twisted my gut. I needed answers. “Kriti, mind giving me and Varun a sec? Wanna catch up with him,” I said, keeping my tone light. She nodded, still smiling, and walked off, leaving us alone. I turned to Varun, my hand clamping onto his shoulder, squeezing hard.
“You fucking donkey,” I hissed, keeping my voice low—no need for a scene on day one. “We talked about this, remember? You swore there was nothing between you and Kriti. But the way you’re acting, that’s not true anymore, is it?”
Varun winced, trying to shrug off my grip, but I’d changed in two years. Puberty hit late but hard—I’d grown tall, broad, my muscles lean but strong from hitting the gym. He couldn’t budge me like he used to. His eyes widened, a flicker of fear in them, and I relished it. “Dude, I know you’re pissed,” he said, his voice shaky. “Yeah, Kriti and I are closer now. You never made a move, man, not my fault. It was mutual, one thing led to another, and now… we like each other. Joined the same college to spend time together. I know you had a crush on her, but that was, like, ten years ago. You still feel the same?”
His words stung, sharp and true. I’d had chances to reach out to Kriti, to rebuild what we had, but I’d been too scared, too stuck in my head. Now she was here, happy, glowing, and not with me. I looked at her across the room, chatting with someone else, her laugh carrying over the noise.
Varun looked like he wanted to sink into the floor, his disappointment palpable. Something was off. Were they… together? The thought twisted my gut. I needed answers. “Kriti, mind giving me and Varun a sec? Wanna catch up with him,” I said, keeping my tone light. She nodded, still smiling, and walked off, leaving us alone. I turned to Varun, my hand clamping onto his shoulder, squeezing hard.
“You fucking donkey,” I hissed, keeping my voice low—no need for a scene on day one. “We talked about this, remember? You swore there was nothing between you and Kriti. But the way you’re acting, that’s not true anymore, is it?”
Varun winced, trying to shrug off my grip, but I’d changed in two years. Puberty hit late but hard—I’d grown tall, broad, my muscles lean but strong from hitting the gym. He couldn’t budge me like he used to. His eyes widened, a flicker of fear in them, and I relished it. “Dude, I know you’re pissed,” he said, his voice shaky. “Yeah, Kriti and I are closer now. You never made a move, man, not my fault. It was mutual, one thing led to another, and now… we like each other. Joined the same college to spend time together. I know you had a crush on her, but that was, like, ten years ago. You still feel the same?”
His words stung, sharp and true. I’d had chances to reach out to Kriti, to rebuild what we had, but I’d been too scared, too stuck in my head. Now she was here, happy, glowing, and not with me. I looked at her across the room, chatting with someone else, her laugh carrying over the noise.
She’d changed, grown into herself, and maybe that was okay. But the ache in my chest didn’t agree. I turned back to Varun, my grip loosening. “You break her heart, I’ll kill you,” I said, my voice dead serious. Then I pulled him into a quick hug, my eyes stinging. I wiped the tears fast, hoping he didn’t notice.
Varun exhaled, relieved. “So, how the fuck did you get in here, man? I know your mom and dad teach here, but your grades were shit.”
I smirked. “Mom and Dad powers, what else? Another four fucking years in this place. At least I’ve got you, right?” We laughed, the tension easing, our friendship mending. “Heard you’re living in a flat now, huh? Adulting already?”
“Yeah, yeah,” I said, waving him off. We caught up, joking like old times, and I felt lighter. I needed to move on—this was a fresh start, a new chapter to explore.
Since it was fresher’s day, we had a talent showcase in the afternoon, and Varun and Kriti were already set to sing a duet. I, on the other hand, had nothing. No talents, no plan. I thought about visiting Mom during lunch, but she was swamped with classes. At the canteen, the vibe was brutal—seniors hogged the tables, forcing freshers to stand and eat. Some who dared sit were shoved out. Varun, Kriti, and I stood, scarfing down our food, Kriti looking nervous, Varun trying to keep her calm.
After eating, I went to wash my plate, and when I returned, a senior girl was bullying Kriti, her voice sharp and mocking. Varun protested, but a guy grabbed him from behind, pinning his arms. I rushed over, stepping in front of Kriti, my heart pounding but my face set. I was scared shitless, but I couldn’t let this slide.
The senior girl was stunning—tall, curvy, her cleavage popping out of a tight top, her eyes cold and commanding. “So, you wanna play hero?” she sneered.
“Please, we don’t want trouble,” I said, my voice steady despite the fear. “We’ll leave, no problem.” Man she was fucking hot. I could barely keep my head straight. Looking at her Cleavage, her curves.. uff.. i was getting a hard on.. she was tall too.. Perfect Mommy Material.
She laughed, then slapped me hard, the sting burning my cheek. I clenched my fists, anger flaring, but before I could react, Kriti slapped her back, her voice fierce. “Don’t you dare bully us! You’re not special—we got in here just like you. Keep this up, and I’ll report you to the dean. Bullying’s a crime, so fuck off!”.
The girl’s eyes blazed. “I’m Sonam fucking Bajwa, bitch. You don’t raise your voice to me. Lick my plate clean, or you’re done here.”
The canteen went quiet, all eyes on us. Sonam’s crew loomed behind her, and I knew this could get ugly fast. She was hot, no question—if she’d asked me to lick her plate, I might’ve done it just to get on her good side. “I’ll do it,” I said, stepping forward. The crowd gasped, Sonam’s fury spiking, her hand raised to hit me again.
She laughed, then slapped me hard, the sting burning my cheek. I clenched my fists, anger flaring, but before I could react, Kriti slapped her back, her voice fierce. “Don’t you dare bully us! You’re not special—we got in here just like you. Keep this up, and I’ll report you to the dean. Bullying’s a crime, so fuck off!”.
The girl’s eyes blazed. “I’m Sonam fucking Bajwa, bitch. You don’t raise your voice to me. Lick my plate clean, or you’re done here.”
The canteen went quiet, all eyes on us. Sonam’s crew loomed behind her, and I knew this could get ugly fast. She was hot, no question—if she’d asked me to lick her plate, I might’ve done it just to get on her good side. “I’ll do it,” I said, stepping forward. The crowd gasped, Sonam’s fury spiking, her hand raised to hit me again.
But a rough voice stopped her. “Well, well, a volunteer?” A hand caught her wrist mid-air—a guy, tall, bearded, wearing shades, his arm now around Sonam’s waist, holding her tight. Everyone stepped back; this was clearly the big shot. “In all my years at this shithole, I’ve never seen someone volunteer to get humiliated, Sonam. Why hit him?” He looked at me, his grin sharp. “I like you, kid. You got guts. So, lick her plate—nice and tidy—and you and your friends can sit in the canteen like us. But you gotta clean all 30 of ours, too.”
My stomach dropped. Fuck, I’m cooked. Thirty plates? But I’d already opened my mouth, and backing out now would make things worse. If I did this, maybe they’d leave us alone, let us have a normal college life. Day one, and I was about to lick plates like a dog. I started, one by one, the taste of leftover curry and rice turning my stomach. I kept my eyes on Sonam, imagining it was her I was tasting, her curves, her smirk. It was the only way to make it bearable. Kriti looked away, disgusted, while Varun cheered like an idiot. The crowd recorded me, snapping pics, my tongue aching as I worked through the stack. Forty-five minutes later, I was done, my mouth foul, my pride in shreds.
My stomach dropped. Fuck, I’m cooked. Thirty plates? But I’d already opened my mouth, and backing out now would make things worse. If I did this, maybe they’d leave us alone, let us have a normal college life. Day one, and I was about to lick plates like a dog. I started, one by one, the taste of leftover curry and rice turning my stomach. I kept my eyes on Sonam, imagining it was her I was tasting, her curves, her smirk. It was the only way to make it bearable. Kriti looked away, disgusted, while Varun cheered like an idiot. The crowd recorded me, snapping pics, my tongue aching as I worked through the stack. Forty-five minutes later, I was done, my mouth foul, my pride in shreds.
The guy approached, clapping slowly. “Good job, kid. I like your guts. But tread carefully—some things are better left alone.” He vanished into the crowd. Sonam stepped up next, her eyes narrowing. “You got lucky today because of him. Next time, I’ll get you myself. Go wash your mouth—your breath stinks.” She spat on my shoes and strutted off.
Kriti rushed over with her water bottle, wiping my face, her fingers gentle. “Here, Akash, wash up,” she said, her voice soft. Her touch sent a spark through me, and I wanted to lean into it, to bite those tender fingers. Varun coughed loudly, his jealousy obvious. “Ehm, Kriti, that’s enough. Let’s go practice for the talent show—we don’t wanna bomb.” She nodded, handing me the bottle, then whispered, “Thank you,” and kissed my cheek. My heart exploded. Fuck yeah, worth every disgusting plate. I grinned like an idiot, ignoring the crowd’s disgusted stares, and bolted to the campus park to catch my breath.
Sitting on a bench, I replayed it all—Sonam’s power, that mysterious guy’s control, Kriti’s kiss. They were the big shots here, and maybe playing nice with them could smooth things out. My classmates were already warmer, nodding or smiling as they passed, thanking me for taking the heat. Was this what being a hero felt like? I was buzzing—until a sharp smack hit the back of my head. “Ouch!” I spun around, and there was Mom, her eyes blazing. "Maaa why are you hitting me?"
“Why am I hitting you?” she snapped. “Why am I not killing you? I heard about the canteen stunt, Akash. Dad knows, too. We pulled strings to get you in here, and day one, you’re making a scene? And why aren’t you signed up for the talent show?”
“Ma, it was nothing, just some senior crap,” I said, rubbing my head. “And I don’t have any talents, so I’m kinda lost.”
She sighed, her anger softening. “Those seniors always mess with freshers the first few days—it’ll pass. I know you’re tough, beta. As for the talent show, I’ve got you covered. There’s a student who needs a dance partner; their original one bailed. I thought of you. The kid looked so sad, and my good-for-nothing son might actually do something useful for once.” She handed me a slip of paper with a number. “Text or call, I don’t care—just do something on that stage.” She kissed my cheek, her jasmine scent lingering, and walked off, leaving me stunned.
I stared at the number, my mind racing. Dance? Me? I could barely walk without tripping, but Mom’s faith in me—and that kid’s disappointment—hit hard. Maybe this was my chance to make a real impression, to start fresh. But who was this mystery partner? And how the hell was I supposed to survive Sonam, her boss, and the rest of this college’s chaos?
To be Continued...
Introducing many more Charachters soon... got potential.. keep motivating me by replying to this thread and keep it alive..
Awesome continue
My Mom is a Slut! Issue #5Genre: MILF, Netorare, Cheating, Cuckold
The Hypnotist’s Visit
The morning sun barely filtered through my curtains, casting a dim glow across my cluttered room. My phone buzzed, yanking me out of a dreamless sleep. Varun’s name flashed on the screen. I fumbled to answer, my voice thick with grogginess. “Yo, what time is it?”
“Eight-thirty, lazy ass,” Varun said, his tone sharp but excited. “Get up. The hypnotist’s coming at ten. I’m on my way to your place now. Be ready.”
I sat up, rubbing my eyes, the events of the past days crashing back—Mom’s affairs, the tapes, Varun’s dad, Kriti’s return, and my humiliating close call when Mom caught me. But today felt different. Today, we had a plan. “Alright, man,” I said. “I’m up. See you soon.”
I dragged myself out of bed, splashing cold water on my face to shake off the haze. Downstairs, Mom was in the kitchen, humming as she brewed chai, her saree clinging to her curves in that effortless way that used to feel comforting but now just twisted my gut. She looked up, smiling. “Morning, beta. Want some chai?”
“Yeah, sure,” I mumbled, avoiding her eyes. She seemed so normal, so unaware of the storm she’d unleashed. I sipped the chai, the warmth doing nothing to calm the knot in my stomach. Varun’s warning about the tapes echoed in my head—she’s unhinged—and I wondered what else she’d done in those recordings I hadn’t seen.
The doorbell rang, and my heart jumped. Varun. I rushed to open it, finding him standing there with a woman I didn’t recognize. She was in her early 30s, petite, with sharp eyes and a calm, almost unnerving presence. Her dark hair was pulled into a tight bun, and she carried a small leather bag. “Akash, this is Dr. Alia,” Varun said, his voice low. “The hypnotist.”
“Nice to meet you, Akash,” Alia said, her voice smooth, professional. “Varun’s told me enough to understand the situation. Let’s keep this discreet, alright?”
I nodded, my throat tight. “Yeah, thanks for coming. Let’s… let’s do this.”
Mom appeared in the doorway, her smile faltering as she saw Meera. “Varun, who’s this?” she asked, her tone curious but guarded.
“Tamannah Bhabhi, this is Dr. Alia,” Varun said smoothly. “She’s a family friend, a therapist. I thought she could help with… stress. You’ve been working hard, and with Akash’s exams coming up, maybe you two could chat?”
Mom raised an eyebrow, glancing at me, then back at Alia. “Stress? I’m fine, Varun. But… sure, I’ll talk. Come in, Alia-ji.” She gestured toward the living room, her politeness masking her suspicion.
We sat down, the air thick with tension. Alia took the lead, her voice calm but commanding. “Tamannah, I specialize in helping people process difficult emotions, especially when life feels overwhelming. Varun mentioned you’ve been under pressure—work, family, all of it. I’d like to try a relaxation technique, something to help you unwind. It’s non-invasive, just a guided meditation.”
Mom hesitated, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her saree. “I don’t know… I’m not really into this kind of thing.” “It’s just a conversation,” Alia said, her smile disarming. “No pressure. We can stop anytime.”
Mom sighed, glancing at me. “Alright, fine. For Akash’s sake. He’s been… off lately.” Her eyes flicked to me, and I looked away, my face burning. Did she suspect I knew more than I was letting on?
Varun and I excused ourselves, retreating to the kitchen under the pretense of getting water. “She’s good,” Varun whispered. “Alia's done this before—helped my cousin quit smoking. If anyone can get your mom to forget the last two weeks, it’s her.”
I nodded, my stomach churning. “What if it doesn’t work? What if she figures out what we’re doing?”
“Then we’re fucked,” Varun said bluntly. “But Alia's pro. She’ll plant the suggestion to dial back her… behavior, make her think twice about risky shit. Trust me.”
From the living room, I heard Alia's voice, low and rhythmic, guiding Mom into a trance. “Breathe deeply, Tamannah. Feel your body relax, your mind opening. Let go of the tension…” I peeked through the doorway, watching as Mom’s shoulders softened, her eyes fluttering closed. Alia's hands moved in slow, deliberate gestures, her voice a steady hum.
“She’s under,” Varun whispered. “This is it.”
Alia's tone shifted, more direct. “Tamannah, you’re in a safe place now. I want you to think about the last two weeks. You’ve been feeling restless, acting on impulses. Those impulses aren’t you. They’re a temporary fog. When you wake up, you’ll feel clear, focused on your family, your work, your son, your husband. You’ll let go of distractions, of reckless choices. You’ll choose stability, love, and responsibility. Nod if you understand.”
Mom nodded slowly, her face serene. My chest tightened—hope, fear, and guilt all tangled together. Was this really going to fix her? Fix us?
Alia continued, her voice firm. “You’ll forget the details of these impulsive moments. They’ll fade like a dream, leaving only a sense of calm. You’ll focus on being the mother Akash needs, the professor your students respect, the wife your husband deserves. When I snap my fingers, you’ll wake up refreshed, ready to move forward.”
She snapped her fingers. Mom’s eyes opened, blinking slowly. She looked around, confused, then smiled faintly. “Wow… that was… relaxing. I feel… lighter.”
Alia smiled. “Good. That’s the goal. Take it easy today, Tamannah. Focus on what matters.”
Mom nodded, standing. “Thank you, Meera-ji. I didn’t expect that to help, but it did.” She glanced at me, her smile warm but tinged with something I couldn’t read. “Akash, beta, you okay?”
“Yeah, Mom,” I said, my voice shaky. “I’m fine.”
Alia packed her bag, giving Varun a subtle nod. We walked her to the door, and she leaned in, whispering, “It worked, but it’s not a cure-all. She needs support—real support. Therapy, if she’ll go. Keep an eye on her.”
“Thanks, Alia,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. She left, and Varun clapped my shoulder.
“Told you she’s legit,” he said. “Now we just gotta make sure Rahman and my dad stay away. I’ve got it handled. You good?”
“Yeah,” I lied, my mind racing. Mom seemed different—calmer, more like the mom I remembered. But the tapes, the memories, the twisted thrill I’d felt watching them… those didn’t vanish with a snap of Alia's fingers.
Later That Day
Mom was in the kitchen, cooking dinner, humming again. I watched her from the doorway, trying to see her as just my mom, not the woman from the tapes. She caught me staring and smiled. “What’s with you today, beta? You’re so quiet.”
“Just… thinking about exams,” I said, forcing a smile. “Need to study.”
“Good boy,” she said, ruffling my hair. “You’ll do great. I believe in you.”
I nodded, retreating to my room. My PC sat there, the hard drive empty now, the tapes gone. But the images were seared into my brain—Mom with Rahman, Girish, Vivek. I wanted to believe Meera’s hypnosis would fix everything, that Mom would go back to being the perfect mother, that I could forget the sick rush I’d felt. But part of me wasn’t sure.
My phone buzzed. A text from Varun: Rahman’s out. Threatened to expose his shady college deals. He won’t come near your mom again. My dad’s next. Hang tight.
I exhaled, relief mixing with unease. Rahman was gone, but Girish was still out there, and Vivek—Varun’s dad—was a ticking bomb. And Kriti… seeing her with Varun still stung, even if he swore they were just friends. I didn’t know what to feel anymore.
I opened my textbook, trying to focus, but my mind wandered. Mom’s laughter from the kitchen drifted upstairs, and for a moment, it felt like the old days—before the tapes, before the betrayal. I wanted to hold onto that feeling, to believe we could be normal again.
But deep down, I knew it wasn’t over. Mom’s impulses, my obsession, the secrets we were all keeping—they were still there, simmering under the surface. And I couldn’t shake the fear that one wrong move would bring it all crashing down.
To be continued...
Please continue....good story
Nice work bro
My Mom is a Slut! Issue #8
Genre: MILF, Netorare, Cheating, CuckoldFirst Day Chaos Continues
I stared at the number Mom gave me, turning the paper over in my hands, half-expecting it to vanish. My phone buzzed—an SMS from the same number: Hey, your Mom gave me this number. Come to Practice Hall Room 4. We can discuss the performance there. I texted back, Ok, I’m coming, grabbed my bag, and bolted, my heart still racing from the canteen fiasco. As I climbed the stairs, voices echoed—sharp, cruel. I froze. Sonam. That bitch was at it again, bullying someone in a nearby room. Peeking through the crack, I saw her stripping a girl, snapping pics, forcing her to dance.
My blood boiled, but Mom’s warning rang in my ears: Don’t find more trouble. I swallowed my rage and sneaked past, head down, slipping through the door to the upper floor.
Halfway up, I tripped, sprawling on the floor, catching my breath. A shadow loomed—a girl in a short skirt and schoolgirl outfit, her face vaguely familiar but unknown. She screamed, “Hentai!” and kicked me square in the face.
Pain exploded; my nose gushed blood, dripping onto the floor. She ran off, and I groaned, stumbling to my feet. Trouble just finds me, man. Dazed, I spotted Kriti and Varun heading into a practice room. My first instinct was to follow, to snoop, but I shook it off. No, Akash, move on. Still, curiosity won. I crept to their door, peering in. Kriti held a flute, looking elegant in her dress, while Varun sang, his voice surprisingly good. They looked happy, in sync, and the sting from this morning dulled.
Maybe I was settling in, letting go of the old crush. Glancing at my phone, I cursed—15 minutes late for my meeting. Gotta go.
I sprinted to Practice Hall Room 4, the door already open. Empty. Did they bail? I checked my phone—same room, right number. Shrugging, I turned to leave, only to crash into someone. A girl screamed, collapsing, her head smacking my bleeding nose. The pain was brutal, blood pouring now. I looked down, and my jaw dropped. She was stunning—dusky skin, black hair, my age, a beauty out of a dream. “Sorry, sorry, I didn’t see you!” I stammered, offering my hand. She ignored it, standing on her own, glaring.
“Who are you? What are you doing here?” she demanded.
“Uh, I’m Akash. I was supposed to meet someone for the talent show practice,” I said, wiping blood from my chin.
Her eyes narrowed, then widened as she scanned my phone’s message. “Wait, you’re Tamannah Ma’am’s kid? I thought she had a daughter, what the fuck?”
I laughed nervously. “Nope, guy here. You can… check if you want.” Shit, that sounded bad. “Why’d you think I was a girl?”
She smirked. “My mom and Tamannah Ma’am are college mates. Mom always talked about you, said you’d be in my class. Wait… you’re the canteen plate-licker!” She burst out laughing, clutching her stomach. I groaned, my face burning. I’m that famous, huh?
“Guess I am,” I muttered. She caught her breath, wiping tears. “Sorry, bro, that was hilarious. You volunteered to get ragged like that? Saved our asses, though. Those seniors were brutal. I’m Anushka Sen, by the way. Call me Anushka.”
“Uh, I’m Akash. I was supposed to meet someone for the talent show practice,” I said, wiping blood from my chin.
Her eyes narrowed, then widened as she scanned my phone’s message. “Wait, you’re Tamannah Ma’am’s kid? I thought she had a daughter, what the fuck?”
I laughed nervously. “Nope, guy here. You can… check if you want.” Shit, that sounded bad. “Why’d you think I was a girl?”
She smirked. “My mom and Tamannah Ma’am are college mates. Mom always talked about you, said you’d be in my class. Wait… you’re the canteen plate-licker!” She burst out laughing, clutching her stomach. I groaned, my face burning. I’m that famous, huh?
“Guess I am,” I muttered. She caught her breath, wiping tears. “Sorry, bro, that was hilarious. You volunteered to get ragged like that? Saved our asses, though. Those seniors were brutal. I’m Anushka Sen, by the way. Call me Anushka.”
“Hey, Anushka, nice to meet you,” I said, a grin creeping up. Her praise felt good, like I’d done something heroic, not just eaten leftover curry for 45 minutes. I’d lick 100 of Sonam’s plates for humanity, for my friends, for a better tomorrow. The savior Akash is here! I snapped back to reality. “So, uh, what’s the deal with the dance?”
Anushka’s face fell. “It’d be easier if you were a girl. I’m nervous as hell, and I’m not that talented. My partner bailed, and now I’m screwed.”
I stepped closer, my voice gentle. “Hey, it’s okay. I’ll dance with you. I’m a terrible dancer, so everyone’ll stare at me screwing up, not you. We can do this.”
She smirked, her eyes sparkling. “A charmer, huh? Alright, let’s try.” For the next two hours, we practiced our asses off. Anushka was a strict teacher—stretching, slow dance moves, endless drills. I missed steps, tripped twice, but it was fun. Her fit body moved like liquid, her scent intoxicating, and being this close to a girl my age felt surreal. My past self would’ve been proud. Exhausted, we collapsed, chugging water. The bell rang—4 p.m. The program started at 6.
“Here, your costume,” Anushka said, tossing me a bag. “Meet me at the hall, freshened up. Don’t bail, Akash.” She hugged me, her warmth lingering, and left. I grinned, buzzing. First day, and I’m killing it.
Walking down the hallway, I passed Kriti and Varun’s room—empty now. Then, weird sounds stopped me. Moans, coming from Room 96. The door wasn’t locked. Against my better judgment, I slipped inside, heart pounding. This is a women’s room, fuck, should I leave? The moans grew louder, clearer. I crept closer, phone in hand, and saw her—a woman, maybe Mom’s age, in a light green floral saree, hair braided, mangalsutra glinting, bangles jingling. She was in the corner, sniffing a pair of boxers, her other hand moving furiously between her legs.
Walking down the hallway, I passed Kriti and Varun’s room—empty now. Then, weird sounds stopped me. Moans, coming from Room 96. The door wasn’t locked. Against my better judgment, I slipped inside, heart pounding. This is a women’s room, fuck, should I leave? The moans grew louder, clearer. I crept closer, phone in hand, and saw her—a woman, maybe Mom’s age, in a light green floral saree, hair braided, mangalsutra glinting, bangles jingling. She was in the corner, sniffing a pair of boxers, her other hand moving furiously between her legs.
My brain screamed stop, but I hit record, my hands shaking. She was hot, wild, doing this in a college room like it was nothing. Suddenly, her eyes snapped to me. “Ayyyy, who’s there?!” she shrieked, dropping the boxers, covering herself.
I bolted, phone clutched tight, sprinting out the door. Footsteps thundered behind me. Glancing back, I saw her at the door, spotting me fiddling with my phone. She grabbed my bag; I slipped it off and kept running, leaving it behind. Fuck, my books, my key, my name’s in there! I didn’t stop, racing to my apartment, climbing stairs two at a time, sweat soaking me. At my door, I realized—no key, it’s in the bag. I was fucked. I’d miss the program, let Anushka down, disappoint Mom. Kneeling on the floor, sweat dripping, I checked the video. All this for a stupid clip? I groaned, pocketing my phone.
A hand touched my shoulder. “Akash, what are you doing on the floor?” I turned—Shraddha Didi, my neighbor, looking concerned in a pink top and shorts, her scent calming me instantly. I stood, hugging her tightly, tears spilling. “Didi, I’m cooked,” I sobbed, too ashamed to explain the video but spilling about my lost bag, missing key, and needing to freshen up for the program. Shraddha, who worked at a café and always hooked me up with free snacks, wiped my tears. “You’re a grown man, Akash, no crying. Come to my place, freshen up. I’ve got my dad’s old clothes—they’ll do.”
A hand touched my shoulder. “Akash, what are you doing on the floor?” I turned—Shraddha Didi, my neighbor, looking concerned in a pink top and shorts, her scent calming me instantly. I stood, hugging her tightly, tears spilling. “Didi, I’m cooked,” I sobbed, too ashamed to explain the video but spilling about my lost bag, missing key, and needing to freshen up for the program. Shraddha, who worked at a café and always hooked me up with free snacks, wiped my tears. “You’re a grown man, Akash, no crying. Come to my place, freshen up. I’ve got my dad’s old clothes—they’ll do.”
Her apartment was pristine, smelling fresh and aromatic. She handed me a towel, and I hit her bathroom, scrubbing off the sweat and blood with silky soap. My eyes caught a pair of pink panties hanging on the rod. No, Akash, don’t. But I grabbed them, sniffing hard, my head spinning. Fuck, this is crazy. I snapped out of it—running late—toweled off, and stepped out. Shraddha was on the sofa, eating grapes, her eyes lingering on my bare torso a bit too long. “Didi, why’re you staring?” I asked, insecure.
She smirked, snapping out of it. “Just admiring your tummy.”
“I’m not fat!” I protested.
“Catch this, then.” She tossed a grape high. I stepped back, catching it in my mouth, smirking as I bit down. “Told you.”
She grinned, tossing another, harder. I jumped to catch it, but my towel slipped, falling to the floor. Naked, I froze. Shraddha’s jaw dropped, her eyes flicking down before she screamed, “Yuck!” and turned away. I scrambled to retie the towel, mortified. “Sorry, Didi, I tied it tight, I swear!”
“I’m not fat!” I protested.
“Catch this, then.” She tossed a grape high. I stepped back, catching it in my mouth, smirking as I bit down. “Told you.”
She grinned, tossing another, harder. I jumped to catch it, but my towel slipped, falling to the floor. Naked, I froze. Shraddha’s jaw dropped, her eyes flicking down before she screamed, “Yuck!” and turned away. I scrambled to retie the towel, mortified. “Sorry, Didi, I tied it tight, I swear!”
She handed me her dad’s clothes, her face still twisted. “Here, take these.” I dressed, the shirt and pants fitting perfectly. “Your dad and I got the same build, huh?” I said, grinning. She blushed, flashing a super sign, then kissed my cheek. “You look perfect. Break the stage. Don’t worry about the key—I’ll talk to the landlord, he’ll have a spare. You can crash here if needed. Go!”
I hugged her again, bolting back to campus, the hall packed and buzzing. Varun and Kriti were already performing, their duet killing it. I scanned for Anushka, finding her in a corner, looking worried. “Oi, Anushka, I’m back!” I called. Her face lit up, relief washing over her.
“Damn, Akash, you almost gave me a heart attack! Thought you’d bail,” she said, punching my arm. “What’s with the new outfit?”
“Long story,” I said, grinning. “But I’m here, right?”
Our names were called. “Fuck, we’re next?” I muttered. Anushka nodded, dragging me toward the stage. The lights blinded me, the crowd a sea of faces. My heart pounded, but Anushka leaned in, whispering, “It’s gonna be alright. Trust me.” Her hands shook—she was as scared as me. The music started, and we moved, Anushka leading, her body flowing like water, her expressions flawless. I followed, clumsy but trying, lost in her grace. For four minutes, the world vanished—pure cinema. The song ended, and the crowd roared. A voice screamed, “That’s my fucking son!”—definitely Mom.
“Damn, Akash, you almost gave me a heart attack! Thought you’d bail,” she said, punching my arm. “What’s with the new outfit?”
“Long story,” I said, grinning. “But I’m here, right?”
Our names were called. “Fuck, we’re next?” I muttered. Anushka nodded, dragging me toward the stage. The lights blinded me, the crowd a sea of faces. My heart pounded, but Anushka leaned in, whispering, “It’s gonna be alright. Trust me.” Her hands shook—she was as scared as me. The music started, and we moved, Anushka leading, her body flowing like water, her expressions flawless. I followed, clumsy but trying, lost in her grace. For four minutes, the world vanished—pure cinema. The song ended, and the crowd roared. A voice screamed, “That’s my fucking son!”—definitely Mom.
Mom rushed me, planting a kiss. “My boy, you rocked it!” she gushed. I rolled my eyes but smiled. Then I saw Anushka talking to—shit—her. The woman. Anushka waved me over. “Akash, my mom wants to meet you.” Her mom? I’m so fucked.
“Tamannah, your son’s a great dancer,” the woman—Neha—said, her eyes glinting as they fixed on me. “I bet he’s good at lots of things, huh?”
“Tamannah, your son’s a great dancer,” the woman—Neha—said, her eyes glinting as they fixed on me. “I bet he’s good at lots of things, huh?”
“Oh, Neha, your daughter outshined him, but I’m proud,” Mom said, ruffling my hair.
Neha offered Mom a ride. “It’s late, Tamannah. Want a lift?”
“Alright, beta, don’t stay out too long,” Mom said, kissing my cheek before climbing into Neha’s car. Anushka approached, grinning. “Today was great. Let’s talk tomorrow, okay? Friends?” She offered her hand. I shook it, feeling a slip of paper. “Friends,” I said. She hopped into the car, waving.
I opened the paper—a Telegram username and a note: My mom sees my SMS and WhatsApp. Tele is safer. Text me there 😘. My heart raced. Neha stepped out, walking toward me, my bag in her hand. “You dropped something,” she said, her smirk chilling. I took it, bracing for a slap or worse, but she just turned and left, saying nothing about the video. I exhaled, checking the bag—key, books, everything there.
Neha offered Mom a ride. “It’s late, Tamannah. Want a lift?”
“Alright, beta, don’t stay out too long,” Mom said, kissing my cheek before climbing into Neha’s car. Anushka approached, grinning. “Today was great. Let’s talk tomorrow, okay? Friends?” She offered her hand. I shook it, feeling a slip of paper. “Friends,” I said. She hopped into the car, waving.
I opened the paper—a Telegram username and a note: My mom sees my SMS and WhatsApp. Tele is safer. Text me there 😘. My heart raced. Neha stepped out, walking toward me, my bag in her hand. “You dropped something,” she said, her smirk chilling. I took it, bracing for a slap or worse, but she just turned and left, saying nothing about the video. I exhaled, checking the bag—key, books, everything there.
I started walking towards my apartment, then Suddenly Kriti and Varun called out, jogging over, hand in hand, giggling. “You guys leaving too? ” I asked.
“Yeah, seniors are going wild—stripping, drinking, making out. Total chaos,” Varun said.
Kriti grimaced. “It’s mental. We’ve got class tomorrow, Akash, don’t forget.”
“Sorry I missed your performance, guys,” I said.
“It’s cool,” Varun replied. “Just glad you showed. Anushka was freaking out. You two a thing now?”
Kriti leaned in, curious. “Yeah, you guys were fire. You and Anushka close?”
I laughed, explaining Mom’s mix-up, thinking I was a girl, and how I ended up with Anushka. They teased me mercilessly as we walked, the night air cool. Kriti brought up the canteen. “How you holding up after that?”
“It was gross, but I’m good,” I said. “They promised to leave us alone, right? Worth it.”
Varun nodded. “Thanks, man. You saved our class. Hope they keep their word.”
Kriti’s eyes flashed. “They’re bullies. We can’t trust them. We stick together, Akash, okay?”
“Promise,” I said, warmth spreading through me. Real friends, real bonds—this was new, and I loved it. We said goodbyes, and I headed home, key in hand, collapsing onto my bed. My phone lit up with stories of our performance, comments hyping us. I fucking love college. I switched it off, grinning, and dozed off, the chaos of day one fading into dreams.
“Yeah, seniors are going wild—stripping, drinking, making out. Total chaos,” Varun said.
Kriti grimaced. “It’s mental. We’ve got class tomorrow, Akash, don’t forget.”
“Sorry I missed your performance, guys,” I said.
“It’s cool,” Varun replied. “Just glad you showed. Anushka was freaking out. You two a thing now?”
Kriti leaned in, curious. “Yeah, you guys were fire. You and Anushka close?”
I laughed, explaining Mom’s mix-up, thinking I was a girl, and how I ended up with Anushka. They teased me mercilessly as we walked, the night air cool. Kriti brought up the canteen. “How you holding up after that?”
“It was gross, but I’m good,” I said. “They promised to leave us alone, right? Worth it.”
Varun nodded. “Thanks, man. You saved our class. Hope they keep their word.”
Kriti’s eyes flashed. “They’re bullies. We can’t trust them. We stick together, Akash, okay?”
“Promise,” I said, warmth spreading through me. Real friends, real bonds—this was new, and I loved it. We said goodbyes, and I headed home, key in hand, collapsing onto my bed. My phone lit up with stories of our performance, comments hyping us. I fucking love college. I switched it off, grinning, and dozed off, the chaos of day one fading into dreams.
To be Continued...
Update for tammy