The wedding concluded with an invitation to the reception at a nearby luxurious hotel. Since the family was close, they were all welcome.
As they drove to the hotel, Meera sat beside Arjun in the back seat, her sari pallu slipping slightly to reveal more of her deep cleavage. She caught him staring again and gave him a knowing, teasing smile—the same playful one from their photography evening.
“Still thinking the sari is ‘fine’, beta?” she whispered so only he could hear, her bangles clinking softly as she adjusted her pallu.
Arjun swallowed hard, already feeling the stirrings again. “You look incredible, Mummy. Too incredible.”
The night was young, the reception promised more opportunities for stolen glances, more photos, and perhaps even riskier mummyents between mother and son under the glittering lights.
The wedding ceremony had been a resounding success, and Meera’s bold green Banarasi sari had turned more heads than she openly admitted. As they returned home briefly before heading to the grand reception at the luxurious hotel, Meera’s mind was already racing ahead. She wanted to make an even stronger impression at the reception—something unforgettable that would have the entire gathering whispering about her elegance and sensuality.
Back in their quiet Patna home, with Rajesh still occupied with some last-minute arrangements at the venue and Priya far away in Varanasi, the house felt intimately private. Meera found Arjun in the living room reviewing the photos he had taken on his laptop.
“Aryan— I mean, Arjun,” she corrected herself with a soft laugh, “I need your help.”
She stood before him, fingers nervously fiddling with the edge of her pallu, a habit she had whenever she felt shy about voicing her desires. The low-waisted sari still clung to her curves, her exposed navel rising and falling with slightly quickened breaths.
“What is it, Mummy?” Arjun asked, closing the laptop screen halfway, his eyes instinctively tracing the silver waist chain that sparkled against her smooth skin.
“Last time I wasn’t very confident about my dress… and you weren’t much help either,” she said in a monotonous tone, though a faint blush crept up her neck. “So I’ve come up with an idea. I’ll try on different saris, and you take photos of me in each one. Afterwards, I can look at the pictures on the computer and decide what to wear for the reception.” She finished the sentence and fixed him with those large, expressive eyes—the ones that always said ‘you can’t say no to your mother.’
Arjun’s pulse quickened. The thought of a private fashion show with his incredibly sexy mother, alone in the house, made his throat dry. “Okay, Mummy,” he replied, trying to sound casual while his mind flooded with images of her changing and posing.
Meera’s face brightened with relief and excitement. “Good boy. Give me ten minutes to set up in my room. Bring your DSLR and that good lighting you were talking about yesterday.”
She disappeared upstairs. Arjun quickly adjusted himself in his pants, the earlier hard-on from the car ride threatening to return. He gathered his camera, tripod, and a couple of portable lights, then knocked on her bedroom door.
