“Beta… batao. Koi girlfriend hai tumhari?”
Divyansh shifted uncomfortably. He stared at the ceiling. “Nahi Ma… koi nahi hai.”
She was quiet for a second, then asked the next question directly.
“Sex kiya hai kabhi? Kisi ladki ke saath?”
His face burned. He turned his head away. “Nahi… abhi tak nahi kiya.”
Santi didn’t sound surprised. She continued in the same calm tone.
“Aur masturbation? Kitna karte ho? Roz? Hafte mein kitni baar?”
Divyansh felt his chest tighten. The question hit him hard. After everything that had already happened today — her holding his cock, shaving him, seeing him get hard — now she was asking about his private habit like it was normal homework. He felt restless, exposed in a different way.
“Ma… yeh sab kyun pooch rahi ho?” he muttered, voice low and uneasy.
Santi reached out and gently placed her hand on his arm.
“Relax beta. Yeh sex education ka hissa hai. Good health aur hygiene ke liye bhi zaroori hai. Main teacher hoon, yeh sab padhati hoon. Shame karne wali baat nahi hai. Batao seedha.”
He stayed silent for a few seconds, then answered honestly in a small voice.
“…Haan Ma. Main… masturbate karta hoon. Roz nahi… lekin hafte mein 5-6 baar. Kabhi kabhi zyada bhi ho jaata hai.”
Santi was quiet again. She didn’t scold him immediately. Her fingers stayed lightly on his arm.
“Accha… toh abhi tak kisi ladki ke saath nahi kiya, sirf haath se kaam chala rahe ho. Theek hai. Par yeh baat suno…”
She turned a little more toward him. Her nighty shifted and one of her breasts pressed softly against the side of his arm.
“Yeh masturbation ek habit ban jaaye aur addiction ho jaaye, yeh achhi baat nahi. Body ko theek se rest nahi milta. Real life mein jab mauka aayega toh problem ho sakti hai. Control mein rakho. Roz mat karo. Do-teen din mein ek baar kaafi hai. Samajh rahe ho?”
Divyansh nodded slowly, still staring at the ceiling. His heart was beating fast. The conversation, her closeness, the memory of her hand on his cock just minutes ago — everything was mixing inside him.
Santi’s voice became softer, almost gentle.
“Main jaanti hoon yeh umar mein yeh sab hota hai. Tumhare father bhi is umar mein aise hi the. Main unko bhi yahi baat samjhaati thi. Par haan… addiction mat hone dena. Health kharab hoti hai. Aur jab asli ladki milegi na… tab tumhe control hona chahiye. Theek hai?”
“…Theek hai Ma,” he whispered.
She gave his arm a light squeeze, then turned onto her back again, staring at the ceiling like him.
“Ab so jao thoda. Main yahin hoon. Kal subah phir baat karenge.”
The bedroom fell quiet. Divyansh lay there, his freshly shaved cock still sensitive inside his lowers, his mind spinning with everything that had happened in the last hour — his mother shaving him, holding his erection, reassuring him, and now casually asking about his masturbation habit like it was normal mother-son talk.
Outside in the hall, Himanshu and Ajay slept peacefully, completely unaware of what was happening behind the closed bedroom door.
Santi closed her eyes, but her breathing was steady and calm.
