Kalpana Rao 10:52 PM You’re making me blush through the screen, Aryan. I’m not used to someone being this direct yet respectful at the same time. It’s… nice. Very nice. I think I will message you again. Soon. For now, I should try to sleep. But thank you. Truly. Good night.
Keshav came hard a few seconds after reading her last message. Thick ropes of cum spilled over his hand and stomach as he bit his lip to stay silent. The orgasm was intense — mixed with the image of his mother in those videos, the way she had looked naked and wet, and the knowledge that she was lying in her bed right now feeling seen because of him. Fuck… Mom… The thought slipped out before he could stop it.
After the orgasm the guilt crashed down harder than before. He cleaned himself up with shaking hands, staring at the chat on his screen. I just came again thinking about her. While she was thanking me for making her feel noticed. What the fuck is wrong with me? This started because I was pent up. Now it’s something else. I’m getting addicted to her replies. To knowing she’s talking to me like this.
He lay in the dark for a long time, the phone on his chest. The chat was getting deeper. She was trusting “Aryan” more. And every message was making Keshav want more — not just the chat, but the real her. The woman behind the professor, the wife, the mother.
He didn’t know how much longer he could keep the two lives separate.
But he also knew he wasn’t ready to stop.
Not yet.
Chapter 4: Crashed Screens and Hidden Truths
The next morning the apartment felt lighter after Holi, but Keshav carried a heavier secret inside him. The late-night chat with his mother as “Aryan” still echoed in his head. She had opened up about feeling invisible in her roles, and he had replied with words that made her feel seen. He had come hard while reading her messages, guilt crashing over him immediately after. I jerked off to my own mother again. While she was thanking me for making her feel noticed. What the fuck am I becoming?
He tried to push it down during breakfast. Sonam sat across from him, complaining loudly about her laptop.
“Bhai, my laptop crashed again last night! It keeps showing blue screen and then shuts down. I have assignments due and some important files. Can you please fix it? You’re good with these things.”
Keshav looked up from his tea. Sonam, 23, slim and pretty with that youthful face that reminded people of Ulka Gupta, was pouting at him like she used to when they were kids. She was in a loose t-shirt and shorts, hair messy from sleep. Normally he would have teased her and said yes without thinking. But today everything felt charged.
“Yeah, sure. Give it to me after breakfast. I’ll take a look tonight when I have time.”
Sonam beamed. “Thank you! You’re the best. I’ll copy whatever I can before giving it to you.”
The day dragged. Keshav stayed in his room mostly, checking the fake Instagram account every hour. Kalpana hadn’t messaged yet, but he kept hoping. Every time he thought of her replies from last night — the way she said he made her feel noticed — his body reacted. She’s my mother. She trusts “Aryan”. And I’m using that trust to feed this… thing inside me.
