The words hung in the air. Divyansh hesitated for a long moment, then slowly unbuttoned his jeans and pulled down both his jeans and underwear in one go. He stood half-naked in front of his mother, his cock soft and resting against his thigh, the pubic area exposed completely.
Santi leaned forward without any awkwardness. She looked closely at his groin. His pubic hair was still thick in patches, not properly cleaned. There were some small red bumps from the itching, and she could see a few remaining lice moving slowly in the hair. The skin looked irritated.
She clicked her tongue, exactly like a teacher disappointed with a student’s homework.
“Arre yeh kya hai? Properly clean nahi kiya tune. Baal abhi bhi hain. Yeh toh theek se saaf nahi hua. Lice abhi bhi dikh rahe hain thode. Yeh kaise chalega?”
She opened her handbag and took out a tube of Veet hair removal cream she had bought on the way, knowing her son wouldn’t have done it properly.
“Yeh lo. Veet laga do. Achhe se lagaana, 8-10 minute chhodna, phir garam paani se nahana. Saare baal nikal jaayenge. Uske baad lotion laga lena jo main laayi hoon. Aur kapde, underwear, bedsheet — sab garam paani mein dhona. Samajh gaya?”
Divyansh stood there, exposed, nodding silently. His mother’s eyes were still on his groin, practical and unashamed, as if she was just checking a wound.
“Jao abhi. Nahao. Main bahar jaati hoon. Himanshu aur Ajay aa jaayenge toh unke saath baat karti hoon.”
She stood up, patted his shoulder once, and walked out of the bedroom, closing the door behind her.
Outside in the hall, she checked the rest of the flat — the kitchen counter, the small balcony, the hall floor. Everything was decently clean for three boys living alone. She nodded to herself in approval.
A few minutes later Himanshu and Ajay returned with a packet of fresh samosas and some biscuits. They started making tea in the small kitchen while chatting with Santi.
“Aunty, aapka school kaise chal raha hai?” Ajay asked politely while stirring the tea.
Santi smiled, sitting on the plastic chair near the study table. “Achha chal raha hai beta. Bacche padhte hain toh achha lagta hai. Tum log kaise manage kar rahe ho? Coaching tough hai na?”
Himanshu poured tea into four cups. “Haan aunty, bahut tough hai. Par teeno saath hain toh ho jaata hai. Divyansh bhi bahut mehnat karta hai.”
Santi took the cup from him. “Tum dono bhi achhe ho. Divyansh ne bataya tha. Family se baat hoti rehti hai na?”
They talked easily for the next ten minutes — about studies, about Lucknow food, about how the boys were managing without parents. Santi was warm and motherly with both of them, asking questions like she had known them for years. Himanshu and Ajay felt comfortable around her. They had no idea what had just happened inside the bedroom.
From the bathroom came the sound of the shower running. Divyansh was inside, applying the Veet cream to his pubic area as his mother had ordered, waiting for the burning sensation that would remove every last hair.
Santi sipped her tea and glanced once toward the closed bathroom door, her expression unreadable.
