The Scene Inside

I pressed my face closer to the wood, my breath hitching in my throat.

Inside, under the harsh fluorescent light of the kitchen, Ma was sitting sideways on Gopal Uncle's lap. He was perched on one of the high stools near the breakfast counter, his legs spread wide to accommodate her.

It looked like a scene from a bad C-grade movie.

Ma, usually so poised and strict about posture, was slumped against him, her head resting on his shoulder. He was holding a bowl of green grapes, plucking them one by one and holding them to her lips.

"Open up, Kavita," he murmured, his voice thick and slurring slightly.

Ma obeyed, parting her lips to take the fruit, her eyes half-closed. As she chewed, I saw her hand resting casually on his thigh, dangerously close to his crotch.

But what made my stomach churn was her clothes. The top three buttons of her blouse were undone, the fabric pulled wide to reveal the lace of her bra and the deep swell of her cleavage. Her skin looked flushed, shiny with sweat.

"Mmm," she hummed, swallowing. "These are sweet."

"Not as sweet as you," Gopal Uncle said, followed by a wet, throaty chuckle.

He plucked another grape, but instead of putting it in her mouth, he deliberately let it drop. It bounced off her chin and rolled down, landing right in the valley of her breasts, nestling between the exposed skin and the fabric of her blouse.

"Oops," he grinned, his eyes gleaming with lust. "Look at that. Clumsy me."

"Oh no," Ma giggled, feigning shock. "Now look what you've done."

"Don't worry," he said, his hand moving up. "I'll get it."

I watched, frozen in disgust, as his thick, hairy hand reached into her blouse. He didn't just pick up the grape. He grabbed her breast, his fingers digging into the soft flesh, kneading it roughly through the thin material of her bra.

"Gopal!" Ma gasped, but she didn't push him away. She threw her head back, laughing breathlessly. "You're tickling me! Stop!"

"Why should I stop?" he grunted, giving her breast a hard squeeze before finally retrieving the grape. "It's a crime to keep these hidden, you know."

He popped the warm grape into his own mouth, chewing it slowly while staring at her chest.

"Your husband is a complete fool," he muttered, his voice dropping to a rough, greedy whisper. "Manish... I know you two have your 'arrangement', but he's an idiot to leave a sexy piece like you alone for another man to handle."

Ma trailed her finger down his shirt button, a sly, knowing smirk curling her lips. "Don't pretend you're complaining, Gopal. Besides, he's out getting his own satisfaction tonight. Why shouldn't I get mine?"

"Satisfaction," he scoffed, his eyes darkening as they dropped to her chest. "If I had a wife with a body like this... with tits like these... I wouldn't need to find an outsider for satisfaction. I wouldn't leave the bedroom, let alone the house."Ma giggled again, a low, satisfied sound. "You're bad, Gopal ji. Very bad."

"And you love it," he countered.

He picked up another grape, placed it between his own teeth, and then grabbed the back of Ma's neck. He pulled her forward, smashing his mouth against hers, pushing the grape from his mouth into hers in a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss.

I gagged, physically recoiling from the door. The sound of their wet, smacking lips was loud enough to echo in the hallway. I felt bile rise in my throat. It was disgusting. It was pathetic.

And I couldn't look away.

The wet smacking of their kiss ended abruptly.

Without warning, Gopal Uncle grabbed Ma by the hips and practically threw her backward. He slammed her down onto the kitchen table with a loud bang that rattled the cutlery bowl nearby.

"Gopal, ssh!" Ma hissed, trying to sit up but being pinned down by his weight. Her eyes darted nervously toward the ceiling. " easy! Shreya might hear us! She's just upstairs!"

"Nonsense," Gopal Uncle scoffed, his voice rough and dismissive. He didn't lower his volume at all. "She's in her room, probably busy with her phone or studying like a good little girl. She doesn't care what you're doing."

He didn't give her a chance to argue. His hands went to the waistband of her tight leggings, hooking his fingers inside. With one violent, jerky motion, he yanked them down. The fabric snagged for a second before sliding down her thighs, bunching around her ankles and leaving her exposed from the waist down.

I stopped breathing. My hand gripped the doorframe so hard my knuckles turned white. It wasn't the first time I had seen my mother in a compromising position but the sheer aggression of Gopal Uncle froze me. The way he handled her, like she was just a piece of meat he owned, was shocking.

Ma lay there, panting, her legs spread open on the table.

Gopal Uncle stepped between her thighs, his eyes locked on her crotch. He jammed his hand down, pressing his thick fingers heavily over the silk of her panties. He rubbed hard, grinding his knuckles against her wetness.

"Fuck," he grunted, a cruel, satisfied smirk twisting his lips. "Look at this. Soaking wet already. What a wet pussy."

Ma let out a sharp gasp, her back arching off the table as he dug his fingers in.

"You're such a slut, Kavita," he growled, leaning down so his face was inches from hers. "Tell me... were you dripping like this while we were eating? Were you fantasizing about this... about taking my cock... even when you were serving dinner to your own daughter?"