Arjun turned slightly toward her, his eyes drawn to her chest. At the exact same mummyent, he caught Meera’s gaze dropping directly to the obvious bulge in his pants. Their eyes met briefly in a charged, awkward silence before both snapped back to the screen. The air felt thick enough to cut with a knife—raw, forbidden desire hanging between mother and son.
“I… I think I have to drop this dress,” Meera broke the silence, her voice husky. “I’m going to change into another sari. Wait for me.”
“Okay, Mummy. I’ll be right here,” Arjun replied, his throat dry.
When Meera returned, she looked devastatingly hot. This sari was her absolute best—rich fabric, perfectly draped extremely low, well below her navel, even lower than the one from the marriage ceremony. She had adorned herself fully: jingling bangles, her mangalsutra resting prominently between her deep cleavage, the sexy silver waist chain hugging her bare midriff, and fresh sindoor in her hair parting.
“This is my best sari,” she said softly, eyes on the floor in shy embarrassment. “Photograph me well. Don’t be shy… you can tell me to pose any way you like.”
“Why would I be shy? You’re the one who’s going to shy away,” Arjun replied boldly, his manly pride ignited.
“We will see,” Meera answered with equal boldness, a spark in her eyes.
Arjun switched on the camera. “Stand against the wall, Mummy. Both hands on your waist, and cock your hips.”
He clicked rapidly as she obeyed, the pose accentuating her curves beautifully.
“Okay, Mummy, move the drape aside so I can photograph your blouse properly.”
Meera paused, then slowly pulled the pallu off her shoulder, fully exposing her deep cleavage and the hard, poking nipples straining against her blouse. Arjun’s fingers flew over the shutter.
“Lift your sari a little from one side.”
She bent down to lift the hem, giving him an incredible view down her blouse—almost her entire breasts on display, soft and heavy. He captured the mummyent hungrily. She raised the hem higher to her right knee, revealing her bare feet, smooth calves, and gorgeous legs. His hands trembled with excitement.
“Raise it a little higher, Mummy. It would look amazing in the photos.”
With pounding heart and flushed cheeks, Meera obeyed, lifting it to mid-thigh. The gap between her legs looked incredibly inviting. Arjun urged quietly, “Higher, Mummy…”
She slowly raised it further until the elastic waistband of her black panties peeked out. He captured every frame, noticing from the viewfinder that her eyes had dropped again to his raging hard-on. Sweat glistened on her skin despite the AC, her chest heaving, nipples rock-hard.
Arjun forced himself to switch poses before pushing too far. “Okay, Mummy. Right hand on the back of your neck, other on your side.”
“Now who is shy?” Meera murmured teasingly, though she followed the instruction perfectly, her body on full sensual display.
“Mummy, bend down and keep your hands on the sofa.”
She bent forward obediently. The view was obscene: her mangalsutra dangling and swaying between her massive breasts, deep cleavage fully exposed, a generous amount of soft, creamy boob flesh visible. Sweat made her skin glow, and a streak of sindoor had smudged slightly on her forehead, giving her a raw, freshly-fucked goddess look.
