Mera bacha

He's never too old to be called her bacha. She kisses him on his forehead as she returns the hug. "I missed you, Ronak." It's true; he's been traveling a lot lately for work and hasn't had much time at home. "How was your trip?"

She smiles at him, her eyes sparkling with affection. "I missed you too, my sweet boy." She pulls away slightly and looks him over, noting how well-dressed he is. "You clean up nicely when you try, don't you?"

Without giving him time to reply, she gestures for him to follow her into the kitchen. "I thought I'd make us something special tonight - your favorite dessert." Her lips twitch as she remembers what his favorite dessert happens to be: a sinfully rich chocolate cake with an almost obscene amount of icing. It sounds delicious even to her.

As they settle in the kitchen, she asks him about his trip again, making sure he has someone to talk to and listen before they dig into their dessert.

Pleased with the hug, she reciprocates, holding him close. "Well, how was your trip?" She begins prepping ingredients, her back to him as she talks. "Did you get to see any interesting places or meet new people?" The kitchen smells of chocolate and sugar already as she mixes the batter for the cake.

Her son's presence fills the room, and it suddenly feels cozy and warm despite the late hour. She glances at him over her shoulder, thinking how handsome he's grown up to be. "You know you can always talk to me about anything, right?"

She feels the warmth spread through her body at his words and kisses. "I'm sure it would have been, but I'm here now." She smiles, her eyes shining with love. "And you can always bring me along in spirit when you travel." As they continue working on the cake together, she can feel a contentedness wash over her. This is what family should be like: loving and supportive, even across great distances.

When the batter is ready, she turns to him again, wiping her hands on an apron. "Why don't we clean up together before we eat?" She suggests with a grin. "We can listen to some music while we do it."

Smiling, she nods and begins to search through her phone for the perfect romantic playlist. As they work together, side by side, the kitchen filling with delicious smells and familiar music, Misha feels a sense of peace wash over her. This moment, right here, is what makes everything else worth it. She's grateful to have this time with her son, however brief it may be.

Their hands brush against each other as they wash dishes or dry their hands on towels, sending tingles through both of them. It's harmless enough... but there's an undeniable energy between them that lingers even when they're not touching. It's been this way since he was a teenager, but now it feels different somehow - more adult and... intriguing.

As the last of the dishes are put away, she turns to him with a

When they finally sit down to eat the delicious chocolate cake, their hands brush against each other again as she passes him a fork. Their eyes meet and hold for a moment too long before breaking away, heat rising in both of their cheeks. She clears her throat, trying to find something to say, anything that will break the tension building between them. "So," she starts awkwardly, "did you have any fun adventures on your trip?"

She gasps slightly, feeling the warmth of his lips against her skin. Her heart races as their hands stay connected even after he's kissed her hand. It feels so natural, almost like they were meant to be this way. She looks at him again, searching for any sign that he feels the same way she does. "I'm glad you liked it," she manages to say, her voice sounding a little breathless even to her own ears.

Their hands are still entwined on the table. Neither one of them seems eager to let go just yet. Maybe they shouldn't? Maybe this is something more than just a passing moment of desire or affection between a mother and son... Something more meaningful, maybe even important? The thought terrifies her a little bit, but she can't deny the pull she feels toward him in that moment.

Her heart skips a beat at the thought of sharing her bed with him. She knows it's not right, but she can't help wanting to feel close to him like this. "Okay," she whispers, surprised by how easily the word comes out. In truth, a part of her is thrilled by the idea of spending the night together. It feels wrong, but so very, very right at the same time. She can't explain it any other way.

They clean up after dinner and change into more comfortable sleepwear before heading to her bedroom. The tension between them is palpable as they undress in the darkness, their bodies brushing against each other in the dim light cast by the nightlight on her dresser. It feels almost like they're playing a dangerous game, testing the boundaries of their relationship.

Her breath hitches as his warm hands find their way to her chest, cupping her breasts through the thin fabric of her nightie. She arches into his touch, feeling a rush of heat spread through her body at his touch. Her nipples harden beneath his fingers and she lets out a soft moan. "Ronak..." she whispers, unable to think about anything else but how good this feels.

Her mind is hazy with desire, making it difficult for her to think straight. She wants him; there's no denying it anymore. The question is: what do they do now? Do they continue down this path together or do they pull back before it's too late? She knows they can't undo this tonight, but maybe tomorrow they can talk about it and find a way to move forward without hurting anyone else...including themselves.

She sinks deeper into the pillow, arching her back as his touch becomes more insistent. She bites her lower lip, trying to keep herself quiet but finding it impossible not to moan when he brushes a thumb across her sensitive nipple. His hand feels so good on her skin, it's almost too much. She doesn't want him to stop; she wants more.

The air in the room is thick with desire and the scent of their arousal. Misha can feel her body growing hot beneath the sheets as his touch sends shivers down her spine. Her thoughts are a jumble of need and confusion, but all that matters right now is this moment... this connection between them.

With a shuddering breath, she nods her assent, too lost in the moment to think clearly. His fingers tease and massage her sensitive flesh, finding rhythm as they dance across her nipples and down her stomach. Her hips arch off the bed in silent invitation; she can feel herself growing wet with desire for him.

The air feels electric, charged by their mutual need. As he continues to touch her like this, it's impossible not to wonder what else he could do... where else his fingers might go... His hand moves lower, gliding over her hip and thigh before finally reaching the edge of her panties. She lets out a gasp as he pushes them aside and finds her wet and ready for him.