Can My Son be My Husband? (New Year Bash)

hronyman69 2020-06-29 Comments

“Hello, my name is Aishwarya Nath, and I have a serious problem.

Let me start from the beginning. Two months ago, my husband died in a car accident. Back then, we used to live in Bangalore, the three of us. My late husband, me, and my son Rohit. We were living a happy life until that tragedy struck.

I tried to cope with the loss, focusing on my job, taking care of my teenage son, and running the house. But wherever I went, I used to see people feeling sad for me that my husband died. They used to do me favors that I didn’t want them to. They used to visit my place to see if I’m doing okay.

Meanwhile, others would simply walk away to avoid awkward conversations about my husband. I didn’t want to live in that city anymore. Fortunately, I was in between jobs as I had accepted a better salary package in an IT company. They had a branch in New Delhi, where they agreed to transfer me.

So my son and I moved to a place where nobody knows us to get a fresh start.

Rohit… He is a handsome young man. Just a month before, on 14th November, he had turned nineteen. Rohit was our love child. When we were in college, my boyfriend and I got careless. On Valentine’s Day college party, we had unprotected sex, and I got pregnant.

Thankfully my then-boyfriend agreed to take responsibility for the baby. Both of us got jobs, we started living together. Two years later, we had a simple wedding ceremony. I still remember our two-year-old Rohit being very excited to see us sign in the register to get married.

And now he is grown into a good looking and intelligent adult doing his first year in MBBS Time passes so fast.”

She said with excitement. At that moment, Aishwarya, an attractive young MILF, was sitting in a shrink’s office. Something deeply disturbing must have happened with her to come to a psychiatrist for emotional counseling. Still, at least at that moment, she seemed happy.

“I know it is hard believing that I have a college-going son. Especially after looking at me. A hot woman with a fair complexion, fit body with a flat stomach. I’m a woman who is a fitness freak who works out and does yoga regularly to maintain her 38 years old body in a perfect 36-30-36 shape.

Shhh… I hope the secret of my age doesn’t get out. People in this city think that I am 26 years old. I look like my son’s elder sister or perhaps his girlfriend.”

Saying the word ‘girlfriend,’ Aishwarya went silent. She felt sad and depressed, and her tone suddenly changed.

“This is why I make it a practice to wear a sari most of the time. This way, I hope Rohit will take my words seriously and treat me as his mother. But then last month something terrible happened.”

Aishwarya was silent yet again. This time she took a long pause. Her shrink had to comfort her to get her talking again. She still seemed hesitant, but she spoke,

“It was the year-end, 30th December, a Friday. By then, I had worked in the New Delhi office for almost a week. In those five days, at least fifteen of my co-workers tried to seduce me, and four of them asked me on a date seeing no mangalsutra around my neck.

A couple of guys were good looking, but I am not ready for any commitment. Their advances felt creepy as they always found the opportunity to tap my shoulder, shake my hand, or put their arm around my waist.

I used to feel so disgusted that every evening after coming from the office, I used to clean myself, by taking a warm soapy bath in the bathtub.

Since it was the New Year at the weekend, our boss had arranged a party in a nearby five-star hotel. He was this generous as we had just bid for a big contract and he was very confident that we will win.

“Get ready for some drinks and sex!” said Dipika spanking my ass as she joined me in the cafeteria for the Friday lunch.

Despite her awkward sexual spankings, Dipika is the only genuine friend I have at the office. From time to time, she warns me which man is planning to seduce me and how to stay away from him.

That afternoon Dipika filled me in regarding how these office parties go. A lot of booze, a lot of dancing, and a lot of office hook-ups.

“I’ve heard a men’s room gossip, that you are their hot new target. For sure, they will be trying to get you in bed tomorrow at the party. If you are lucky, you might end up with more than one or two guys,” she said, winking at me.

I was genuinely scared. As it is, I was not ready to get into a relationship with any guy. Now Dipika was telling me that they wanted to have sex with me. Up until that point, the only person I had sex with was my husband. That evening I took an extra-long bath in the tub. I was so long in there that Rohit got worried.

He had to step inside the bathroom to see if I was okay. This came as a shock as I was just sitting there with my breasts out exposed. Good thing that Rohit had covered his eyes while stepping in.

Seeing him, I got an idea, “Why don’t I take him with me to the party? But then what good would it do taking my son to an office party. Also, he might want to spend some time with his new friends.” Thinking this, I immediately dropped the idea.

The next day on the 31st we went shopping. It was our Saturday routine to restock the basic items of the house. After that, we went to a shop to buy a nice sari. All the good party dresses were a gift from my husband. So I decided to give them away before coming to New Delhi.

When we were at the shop, something strange happened. The moment we asked for some party designs for a sari, the shopkeeper commented, “What’s the occasion, let me guess. It’s your first wedding anniversary.”

It was a very awkward moment as we both corrected the shopkeeper, clarifying what the relationship was between Rohit and me. The shopkeeper apologized and failed to make consistent eye contact with us for the rest of the transaction. He even gave us a discount.

The moment was very uncomfortable, and it was our unspoken agreement to never talk about this ever again. But on our way back, it got me thinking, “Can my son be my husband? or at least pretend to be?”

I saw Rohit driving like a man as I sat next to him. The more I thought about it, the more sense it made. Rohit took all the responsibility of my husband after his passing. So why not make him pretend to be my husband, at least for one night.

It was afternoon time, and we were done with all our errands. So we stopped at a restaurant for lunch.

For the first time after so many years, I was hesitating to say something. Like I was hesitating when I was eighteen and wanted to propose to my boyfriend to marry me. With the stammering hesitation of that same teenage Aishwarya, I spoke to my son.

I told Rohit everything about the office problem and the new year party. I gave a long explanation while we ate lunch. Then when we sat in the car, I asked,

“Will you come to the party pretending to be my husband?”

I know he is my son, so I can tell him to do anything. But faking the role of my husband required him to do a lot more than just acting. As it is, he had difficulty in seeing an attractive young woman as his mother. On top of that, I was asking this from him.

We had very little time to ease him into this role. While sitting in the car as we drove back home, I adjusted my sari such that I accidentally displayed ample cleavage. I could see him glimpsing at my rack but pretending not to look.

It took a lot of convincing till the evening until Rohit finally agreed to be my husband for one night. “Just one night,” he said while sweating. I was happy. We practiced answers to all possible questions the office staff might ask. I told him that he might have to drink a little.

But considering the fact that I have caught him several times drinking beer with his friends, alcohol wasn’t a problem. The difficult thing was the romantic couple’s dance, as Dipika told me. We watched some videos and practiced in our apartment.

His hands shivered initially to hold me by my waist or when my breasts pressed against his chest. With a little practice, he got comfortable with that too.

Since you promised me that no information will go out of this room, I want to confess that at that moment, I felt a certain warmth of pleasure and satisfaction while we hugged each other. Rohit is at least half a foot taller than me. So I comfortably rested my head on his firm shoulders as we swayed to the tune.

Finally, the time arrived as we got ready for the party. I wore a black shining party sari with a black sleeveless low neck and backless blouse. The sari tucked in below my navel, free hair, red matte lipstick, and a black pointed high heels.

Rohit wore a matching black suit. His father’s actually that fit him perfectly. I was able to see a reflection of my husband in Rohit at that moment. This was important as I, too, had to pretend that Rohit is my husband. It wasn’t easy for me.

Then as the final touch, I let me do the honors of putting on the mangalsutra around my neck. It was difficult for him, but necessary.

Rohit was very nervous about this. I could tell as I held his hand while entering the five-star hotel. A private hall was booked for all employees and their families, consisting of no children. He was shaking and shivering and was unsure of this plan.

I saw fear in his eyes every time he looked at me. Before entering the hall, we stopped. Holding his head, I brought him close, touching our heads and noses.

“Do this for mommy,” I said as we closed our eyes.

This is our little mother-son tradition whenever Rohit is nervous. This used to happen a lot during sports day in school. Then as a practice, we took a deep breath and went to face the challenge. We stepped in, and all the office staff that was present cheered at my entrance.

But that cheer died midway as they saw me holding hands with a young man. Especially for the party, I was wearing a push-up bra to display ample cleavage over a deep neck blouse. This way, everyone would immediately notice the mangalsutra around my neck.

All the men who had made elaborate plans to get me in bed with them seemed shocked, confused, and lost. With a smile, I introduced them to my husband, Rohit Nath. It was easy and convincing. Rohit and I share the same last name, but for a totally different reason.

We planned our story such that we didn’t have to lie a lot, only when it was necessary. So Rohit is still a college student studying to be a doctor for them. There is a large age difference between us. Except we lied, saying that we fell in love and now are married.

Our idea worked very well as everyone in the office bought that. Rohit and I were pulled apart as the men and women sat on separate tables. But from time to time, we made eye contact to make sure everything was okay. At the girls’ table, the conversation was simple.

Since I was a hot topic, they wanted to hear the full story of how we met, fell in love, and got married. Meanwhile, things were getting uncomfortable at the guys’ table. At one point, Rohit hinted to me to meet in the guys’ washroom.

Hiding inside one cubicle, he said, “Mom, they are asking me all about sex and how you look naked. This is very uncomfortable,” he said while he struggled with getting rid of all the mental pictures of seeing me naked. “I want to go home.”

“I know this is a painful, baby,” I said, trying to convince him. My colleagues had caught the bait. I just had to reel them in. “If tonight goes well, then those guys will never again flirt with your mommy. Please do this for me.”

Then before leaving, I smiled at him, saying, “Just describe the time you had sex with your girlfriend. I know you are not a virgin.” I winked at him and walked away.

Yes, it is true. I know for sure that he is not a virgin. A mother always knows what his son is up to. We just keep our distance and silence in these uncomfortable topics. Things were going very smoothly. We had dinner, drinks and a lot of wild dancing.

Then just before midnight, our boss made an announcement. He said that just now he received a call from the head office that we have won the bidding, the contract was ours.

He was so happy to hear this news that he booked a room for one night for all the couples at the party. Saying this, he handed card-keys to all the women at the table while he brought more expensive liquor for the guys.

Just ten minutes before midnight, all the married couples were dragged to the dance floor for a romantic dance, including the fake couple, i.e., us. Just as we practiced, Rohit and I held each other in arms and danced to the slow tunes.

At that moment, our discomfort of being intimately close was suppressed by the alcohol we had consumed in the past couple of hours. I shouldn’t say this, but at that moment, I found my son to be sexy and was aroused by close contact with him.

He, too, was comfortable placing his hand on my hip as it slowly got lower and lower until he was touching my bum. The mood was set, and the tune continued as suddenly, the countdown to midnight began.

“10, 9, 8…” everyone cheered while continuing to dance. “…7, 6, 5…” We were comfortable with continuing with our dance when we saw a desperate couple kissing. “…4,3…” As we looked around, more and more couples were engaging in a lip-lock.

That’s when we realized what we were supposed to do at the stroke of midnight.

“That’s how we celebrate the New Year in this city, with a kiss. Every girl has to kiss a boy. It’s compulsory.” Dipika joked during our lunch break the day before. But as it turns out, she was serious. Despite not knowing why I let myself fall in this uncomfortable situation.

But there was no way out. Rohit looked at me as if he wanted me to decide the next move.

“…2, 1, Happy New Year!” all cheered.

Taking a deep breath while closing my eyes, I pulled his face close, and we kissed.”

Here Aishwarya paused from telling her story. At that moment, while narrating this story to her shrink, she didn’t seem disturbed. Rather she was aroused. Closing her eyes, she tried to make the most out of this memory of hers.

“It was a very passionate kiss as our soft lips touched. As a practice, I used to make my son use lip guard during winters. That night, all the years of training paid off. Being drunk had spoiled both of us as we didn’t release each other’s lips in a warm embrace even when everyone else was done.

We were having a strong make-out session publicly on the dance floor as everyone awkwardly stopped dancing and looked at us. I finally gave away when Rohit tried to slip his tongue inside my mouth. When we looked around, everyone was shocked and excited to witness our passionate love on display.

We were so embarrassed that without a word, we walked away from one another and returned to our respective tables. I would be lying if I said that I wasn’t turned on at that moment. I don’t know what Rohit must have felt, but I desperately wanted to sleep with him.

“But that is wrong!” I said to myself. I was still sane enough to know that. I wanted to suppress these urges, and so I drank even more. That’s the last I clearly remember that night.

The rest of the events are confused flashes of memory. I was dancing, someone was grabbing my butt, or maybe I was grabbing someone’s butt. Then I someone tried to stop me from stripping, or maybe I was stripping in the hotel room, or maybe I was undressing under the shower to take a bath.

It is all a confusing dream that I barely remember. This brings me to my problem. Please doc, help me, tell me what should I do…?

The next morning when I woke up, I was in the bed of the hotel room, naked! Completely naked! And my son Rohit was sleeping next to me. I don’t know what happened.

I got dressed, woke him up, and then we left the hotel to return home. Me and Rohit, we did not talk about that night. It too became one of those uncomfortable events that we don’t talk about.”

Saying this, Aishwarya took a deep breath. Her psychiatrist, who was also a woman, told her to drink a glass of water. Meanwhile, this slightly obese intellectual middle-aged woman adjusted her glasses while thinking about what to say.

Aishwarya couldn’t decode what her shrink was thinking. But from her expressions, it appeared as if she too was aroused by the story and was thinking of her own son whom she never saw as a sexually viable candidate. The shrink continued to think as Aishwarya continued.

“The secret is eating me from the inside. I really want to know what happened. When I asked my office colleagues, they said that I simply walked away with “my husband” after having a couple of drinks. They thought we went straight home.

None of them knew that we slept in the hotel room. The only person who knows and can tell me what happened that night is Rohit. I don’t know what to do. Doc, please tell me what to do. How can I, a mother, ask her son, “Did we have sex that night?”

To be continued.

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