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Seven months later

Kanimozhi

"Mama, do you think I would top the examination at least on this attempt?" I trail off, messing with Mama's beard as I lay leisurely on his lap. We were in the lounge and were watching a random movie but after a while, I couldn't find the movie interesting anymore hence I just slumped on my mama and was playing with him.

"...I'm not sure," I poke his nose at his negative response. "Mama, I need positivity! Why do you always say the blunt truth? Ponga (just go)" he smiles down at me and pinches my lower lips between his fingers in an adoring way before resting his hand on my waist.

I wrote the fifth-semester examination the last month and I'm confident that I would score promising marks. However, to be the topper, I would have to strain my attention totally on the book like Priya does, and only then I would be able to achieve the first ranker position.

Priya has been so immersed in studies that she couldn't care less about Sam who is hopelessly in love with her. He hasn't proposed to her yet but his transparency has made everyone aware of his affection towards her, including Priya herself. She likes him but I don't think she would date him. The last time I asked about her opinion of Sam, she said that she is ready to marry him eventually after she packs a job. But dating is prohibited in her family and so she is never going to go out with him before they wed.

I passed this information to the lovesick puppy who was over the moon upon Priya's approval to marry him someday.

Theirs is one of the oddest yet heartwarming love stories I've ever witnessed. They don't talk much but each cares for one another immensely.

I hope they can lead a happy life together one day...

"Mama," He looks down at me again and raises his eyebrows mildly. "How much do you love me?" He sighs at my query. "What kind of question is that? What would you say If I asked you the same?" At his retort, I quickly lift my body and seal his lips with mine.

Minutes later, we pull away and stare at each other. His eyes have become dark with lust while mine glimmered with playfulness. "See, this is how you should reply when I ask such a question, oldy," he hisses at my last word. He doesn't like when I mention him with that but I still use it to infuriate him sometimes.

"Do not call me that. I'm only 36," I grin at the defensive mode he has turned on. His face has a pouty yet furious expression and I couldn't help but sit on his lap, sideways, and embrace him.

"Hm, my oldy," A long sigh leaves Mama's lips as I whisper those words in his ear. "You wouldn't listen, would you?" I tilt my head to gaze at him and run a hand through his hair. They are less thicker and I've noticed a few white strands which my mama carefully chops off at times. I didn't want to increase his insecurity but at the same time, If I keep on ignoring them, I'm afraid that he would eventually become very self-conscious around me.

I want him to feel free with me without having to worry about his looks which would deteriorate with his age.

"Here's a white strand," I point out and his face pales even though he tries to maintain that stern mien. "You missed this while clearing out the white strands," He doesn't say anything. "Mama," he tries to pull me out of his lap but I hold onto him tightly.

"Listen, mama," I grab at his beard and constrain him with my pointed gaze. "Don't cut those off. I like them on you. Those white strands are beautiful, to me." I utter softly while Mama gives me a bitter smile.

"Do not lie Mozhi, I love you and I know you love me back ma. And I am aware that my looks don't matter to you. However, confessing that it is beautiful doesn't make any sense..." he caresses my jaw with his thumb while I process his answer with a shattering heart.

"Why do you have a hard time trusting my words?" I frown as I question him. "I trust you on everything but not on this Mozhi ma. You don't have to lie to make me feel better about myself," I peer at him with a weary complexion. "I'm not lying mama!" I grit out, frustrated by his behavior.

"Calm down," he palms my neck while I shake my head and try to get off his lap. But this time he refuses to let go and crashes me close to his body. "I won't unless you believe me!" He chuckles and pinches my butt cheek simultaneously.

"Mama!" He aligns his face to me and his brows furrow a little as he asks with genuine curiosity, "Do you really find these white hair strands beautiful on me?" I nod my head at him vigorously.

He smiles, an amused one.

"That was a surprising fact to digest, I still can't believe this entirely..." I explode, fed up with his skepticism.

"How many times should I repeat this!? Loosa mama nee!"(Are you crazy!?)

-The lack of 'nga' in 'nee' suggests disrespect when referring to an elder person-

Right after the words fly out of my mouth, I close my mouth in terror. That was absolutely rude of me to say that. Mama's eyes have expanded a bit and the shock of heeding such a sentence from my mouth is obvious on his countenance.

"...sorry mama," I say in a low tone, apologetically. He clicks his tongue and adjusts me on his lap so that my bent knees rest on either side of his thighs. He then brings my body nearer to his by settling his both hands on my ass cheeks.

We've been together for three years but the fear I possess towards his resentful side hasn't been decreased a little.

And he rarely raises his voice or glares at me. Thus when he does become indignant, it makes me feel weird in my heart and stomach.

"Mama," I whisper against his lips, my heartbeat escalating at the cold look he throws my way. "Kulir vittu pochu illa...(You have lost the fear you had of me, haven't you?" I shake my head at him.

"No mama.." he smiles at me suddenly and I blink my eyes, confused. Is he not irked by my impolite phrases?

Momentarily, mama meanders one of his hands from my clothed asscheeks to grip my chin. "You are so pretty," and he pushes me with his hand on my posterior, causing our middles to rub against each other.

I gape at the pleasure and wrap my hands around his neck as my body begins to pursue the pleasure on its own by moving against his erect dick. "Aren't you angry....with...me?" I manage to ask as he inserts both of his hands inside my panties to clamp onto my butt cheeks.

"No," he mutters and we both share a kiss, one that has our tongue fiddling with the other.

A fight scene is being played in the movie, and the afternoon sun is bright as it shines inside our home. It is a serene Sunday and doing this sexual act in such a tranquil moment had my body gather more rapture.

The urge to just tear off my lower clothes and rub against him is higher than ever. But that would mean we are crossing another line today. "Ah..." I moan a breathy one as my release appears to be close yet so far from bursting out.

I need more physical touch.

Mama understands the same and bites my breasts over the clothes. That was certainly a push to my orgasm but I need even more...

On the other hand, mama groans as he releases first. Well, lucky him! Throughout the months, I've noticed how it was easy and takes comparatively less time and effort for him to attain an orgasm than me.

Mine sometimes stretches to 25 minutes or more as teasing my breasts alone isn't enough temptation for my body anymore.

It sure is pleasurable but my body demands more...

Even when Mama lifts my dress and sucks on my nibs, the orgasm wouldn't break through. Tired of it, I lower my panties through the skirt I've worn and push my wet spot against him a few times...and that's all it takes for my body to convulse and experience the blissful orgasm.

I bit my lips and through my blurry vision, I saw my mama sitting stiffly, probably stunned by my action.

Dumbing my exhausted self over his chest, I drag a breath and then I sense his hand entwining with my hair and tilting my head up.

"Azhagi..." (Beautiful) He pecks on my lips and nuzzles his head in the crook of my neck. I smile dreamily as I lean my head against his.

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