Mystery of the Unused Condom

I quietly stood near the staircase in the dimly lit corridor. My eyes were on Maa; she was enjoying her favorite serial in the living room. The room was dark; the occasional bright lights from the TV screen reflected on Maa's excited face.

It was the perfect opportunity for me to sneak into her room unnoticed. I slowly tiptoed my way to her bedroom. I was on a mission, a mission that needed to be fulfilled at any cost.

It was my best friend Ria's birthday the next day, and I was tight on cash. I was sure that she wouldn't mind if I showed up without any present, but then I didn't want to show up on my bestie's birthday without any gift.

My footsteps were barely audible on the worn-out carpet, as I approached ma's bedroom door. My heartbeat rose, the ticking sound of my wristwatch felt like it was echoing through the otherwise silent house. My hand hovered over the doorknob, my thoughts raced, and my arm started shaking.

I pulled my hand back and nibbled on my lips. I gathered all of my courage and clenched my fist. I closed my eyes and started recalling my plan.

I'm not that type of girl who spends all of her money at once, but to spend money, you need to earn. Sadly, in my case, I can't do both. You see, my ma doesn't trust me with money; she thinks I'm a fucking child who can't handle her own allowance.

To clarify my situation, I would like to say that I'm not a child. I'm in college and quite grown enough to understand my surroundings. But the problem is my fucking brain. I can't control my thoughts, and sometimes I lose my senses.

Anyway, my plan was simple. I would sneak into my mother's bedroom and steal some cash from her. I know it's wrong, but it was my only option that could save me from the embarrassment of showing up empty-handed. Also, when I asked her for cash, she straight up said no. According to her, a five thousand rupees gift is too much. Sadly, my mother does not understand that to make a friend, you need to spend on them.

I took a deep breath and reached for the doorknob; the metal felt cold under my warm palm. I pushed the door, and the old hinges made a creaking noise as it swung open.

I took another deep breath and slipped inside. My eyes slowly adjusted to the green dim light. Maa's room smelled faintly of vanilla. The bed was made with folded sharp corners, and the room gleamed in the dim light.

I looked at my radium dial watch and calculated the timing. I had approximately twenty minutes in my hands before Maa finished her serial.

My eyes darted around the room, wondering from where to start. I carefully made my way to the dresser, thinking maybe somewhere behind the mirror cabinet, there would be a small bag filled with cash. But to my surprise, there was no bag or purse. The cabinet was filled with cosmetics and lotions.

As I closed the dresser, I saw my unclear reflection in the mirror. I clearly saw shame and guilt in my eyes. But knowing the truth, I still kept on going.

I looked under the mattress and searched each drawer on the bedside table, but all my efforts were fruitless. I started sweating from frustration and nervousness. Next was my mother's wardrobe.

Luckily, it was unlocked; I slowly opened the door and then it happened. Unfolded sarees and two shoe boxes like thing fell on me like a landslide.

"What...maa!" I murmured in frustration.

It was impossible for me to see anything in that dim light, so I started groping whatever came in front of my hands. Trying my best to identify the shape or texture of a bag or purse.

After searching for two minutes, I found her bras, panties, sarees, and nighties. On the bottom shelf, I found two rolls of toilet paper, or something, and several cans of spray, probably room fresheners.

My frustration was at its peak; I started bruxing. But then, on the top shelf behind Maa's folded sarees, I found something. I felt it was like a leather handbag, so I quickly pulled it out.

I felt a sudden rush of joy in my body. I looked around and my gaze fell on the bedside lamp. I rushed to the bedside table and turned the lamp on.

"Wow," I murmured.

It was a green leather bag with two round rings on each side and two thin straps joining them. There was only one compartment. It felt costly; the leather had a weird texture on it.

I clearly heard my heavy breath as I opened the chain. I put my hand in and grabbed some crumbled paper-like things in my palm.

"Jackpot!" I whispered.

But to my surprise, it was nothing more than some bills. As I turned the bag upside down, several crumbled papers and train tickets fell on the bed. The bag was empty, no cash or coins.

A sudden rush of anger ran down my body. I felt so angry at Maa. I swung my arms in the air and then dragged my perfectly cut nails on the bedsheet. I kicked the bed and dropped myself on top of it.

It wasn't like we were poor or struggling financially, but actually it's the opposite. My mother is pretty good with her money. After Dad passed away, she doubled the money he left for us in two years. My mother was quite good with her investments; however, she still refused to pay for a gift.

I closed my eyes and started blaming Maa for blaming me. All kinds of weird thoughts started to accumulate in my mind, forcing me to stop thinking straight.

My eyes felt heavy, and my body was exhausted. It was nothing new. Every time I failed to do something, my body reacts in this way. Slowly my mind turned blank, my sweating had stopped, and my heart rate went back to normal.

I rolled on my belly and pressed my head hard on the mattress and wondered if Maa even had any cash in her room. Suddenly, I realized that I never confirmed if she actually had any emergency cash stash in the house. I just assumed that she hid her cash in her room.

Reality hit when I looked at my watch. The twenty minutes mark was already over eight minutes ago. My panic rushed and I looked around. As I was going to stand up, my eyes caught something. The slightly ajar drawer on the study table stood out like a beacon of hope in the ocean of uncertainty.

A sudden hope pushed my body. I rushed to the table and turned on the table lamp. I saw two old newspapers neatly folded on the right side of the table and one electric bill under a paperweight.

I swallowed hard and slowly pulled out the drawer. To be honest, I never thought of checking her study table, as if it isn't obvious who would even keep their cash in an open space like that?

My hand roamed between pens, notepads, and some other stationery items when I touched it: a small, square, single packet. I narrowed my eyes and looked harder and realized that the thing I had just touched was nothing but a condom.

I froze in my place, my eyes widened, my hand hovered over it, unsure whether to pick it up or not. I knew in any other circumstances; it would be a normal thing to find a condom in your parents' room. But to find a condom in your widowed mother's bedroom was totally a different story.

I was confused and extremely scared. I didn't know what to make of it. My maa, a devoted widow who had never looked at any other man after my dad passed away, was keeping a condom openly in her drawer.

My mind raced with questions; each one was more alarming than the last. My heart sank, and the trust I had in her started to melt like an iceberg. I started questioning her character, wondering if she really had a secret life that she kept hidden from me.

I picked up the condom, turned it back and saw the manufacturing date. My jaw dropped open as I read the date; it was manufactured in the previous month, still fresh and ready to be used.

I felt blood rushing down my cheeks as I crushed the condom in my fist. My thoughts raced like a river in a flood. I never doubted Maa's dignity, but after finding this condom, it made me think twice. In my mind, a storm of stories surrounding the condom started brewing.

My thoughts ran wild as the darkness of the room suffocated me. I couldn't take it anymore and rushed to the board to turn on the lights.

After adjusting to the bright white light, I saw the mess I had made. But I didn't care about that; I had bigger problems on my hands. As I walked to the other side of the bed, my eyes fell on the boxes and sarees that were lying on the floor.

Suddenly, I noticed, beside those colorful sarees, a strip of condoms coming out of one of those shoe boxes. I quickly opened the box, and my soul left my body. It was filled with condoms, no packets or anything, just long strips of condoms. Both boxes were filled with condoms, the same name and date.

At that point, tears started rolling down my eyes. The faint laughter from the tv ads seemed like a mockery of my pain. I sat on the edge of the bed and looked down at the floor. Why would Maa buy so many condoms? It was impossible for her to buy all of this by herself. I closed my eyes and tried to think straight. Nothing logical came into my mind, but I was convinced Maa wasn't alone in this. Maybe she had a secret lover who brought them. But then she didn't go out that much, and her friends' circle doesn't have any male friends in them. But anyway, why would she buy so many condoms? My mother doesn't look like a nymphomaniac.

My thoughts swirled like a tornado. I tried to recall anything that could have any link to this.

My mother was in her late 30s, and she still looked gorgeous, to be honest. As she followed our cultural way of widow living, it was hard to measure her sexiness, but with a decent dress and some touch-up, she can win any man's heart.

Suddenly, I realized my maa does have some male interactions in her life. They were hidden in plain sight on mine.

Our neighbor, Mr. Kuntal. I recall, once Maa called me from the bathroom to go and pick up the clothes before they got wet in the rain. But I ignored her request, so seeing no other option, she somehow wrapped herself in a towel and ran to the terrace. A few seconds later, I heard her screaming my name. I ran to see what the matter was and found my mother completely naked, struggling with the strong wind currents to hold the bedsheets. Her towel had dropped on the ground and the cold raindrops had completely covered her naked body.

I ran to help her, taking the sheets from her hand. Maa quickly turned around and bent down to pick up the towel. That was the first time I saw her clean-shaved ass hole and pussy.

But sadly, it wasn't only me who saw her hole. Kuntal the hog was also there ogling at Maa. He didn't see that I had spotted him, but from that day he started flirting with Maa during their everyday interactions on the balcony.

He would often flirt with Maa and even crack some weird jokes about her figure. I knew something was fishy when he started advising her to do yoga with him, as it would rejuvenate her soul and keep her figure in shape.

She used to laugh at his advice, but one day he invited Maa to his house for a free yoga class. And then she suddenly started doing yoga.

I remember that day when she didn't come to pick me up from my counseling. I had to ask my therapist to book a cab for me. When the cab stopped in front of my house, I saw Maa walking hurriedly into the house, as if she was trying to avoid any undue attention.

I ran after her and as I entered the house. I saw her and my eyes widened with surprise. She was wearing a tank top and yoga pants, her entire body was glistening from sweat; her top and pants were completely wet, and I clearly saw her black bra and pink panties underneath them.

"Maa, what are you wearing?" I asked worriedly.

Maa had a slim waist, but her butt was quite big compared to her body. It felt scandalous to see her in tight yoga pants. Maa rushed in and hugged me. I smelled a faint scent of Kuntal's scent; it was clear that his hand touched her body.

Maa explained how she was so lost in her yoga class that she completely forgot about the time. She even told me that she knew how ridiculous she looked in that outfit. Maa laughed and said it was Kuntal's idea, as you can't do yoga in a saree.

I didn't think much of it as a few weeks passed since Maa stopped going to his house for yoga. I didn't know the reason; maybe it was because his wife came back from her office trip, or maybe something else.

I realized how ignorant I was. It became clear to me what actually happened. Free yoga classes and convincing her to wear yoga pants and tank tops--it was all his plan.

The day he saw her naked butt, Kuntal wanted to feel it. He wanted to put his fingers in her butt to taste the warmth of her anus. So, with his flirting skills, he lured her in. To touch her freely, he needed to remove the hindrance that was her saree. After that, every day he slowly made himself comfortable with her until she also started enjoying his touch.

Then one day he slid his hands and cupped her ass and started to squeeze them. Soon he began rubbing her pussy over the fabric, making her wet and ready.

Maa loved the sensation, and she let him do what he wanted. He pulled her pants down and started circling around her asshole, and his other hand penetrated her vagina.

Kuntal slid his finger into her ass, her muscles clenched around his finger. He took his time exploring her holes. His fingers penetrated her holes until Maa came from both.

But Kuntal wasn't the only one who loved Maa's ass. The second person who came into my mind was Sumit Sir. He is my private tutor, a tall good-looking guy in his 30s who knows how to give good back massage.

I felt a slight pain in my head as I recalled that one incident. It was one of those rainy days. I was waiting for the auto when it started to rain. I looked in my bag and realized that I didn't bring my umbrella. So, I rushed back to my house to grab one.

The door was locked, and when I rang the bell, surprisingly, it was my teacher who opened the door. I was a little surprised, but then he told me that Maa had called him to check on my progress.

I was in a rush, so I ran to my room and saw that her bedroom door was open, and Maa was lying on her belly facing down. After seeing me, she gave a faint guilty smile.

She explained how she fell on the ground and got a strain in her back, but luckily Sumit sir was there to help her. He carried her to the room, and he was even so generous that he gave her a back massage.

Maa's saree was pulled down, below her ass cheeks. Her ass was covered with a towel; it was clear that Maa wasn't wearing any panties underneath it. Her waist was glaring with the oil reflection.

I was getting late, so I didn't pay much attention to it and took my umbrella and ran out. But as I recalled the incident, I wondered how she allowed such things, letting a stranger touch her body. Or maybe it was all a lie told to me, and in reality, it was more than just a back massage.

I started imagining all the dirty things that could have actually happened between maa and sir. Maybe she purposefully fell, knowing that a gentleman like sir would definitely help a helpless widow. Then sir brought her to the bed, and maa told him how her back hurt. Sir, being a bachelor and sensing the opportunity, offered maa a back massage. Then he slowly started pressing Maa's waist with his strong hands. Maa was already turned on, so she asked if he could rub her back with oil. And when sir slowly pulled down her saree, he saw Maa's fat ass and how it was beckoning to him.

He oiled his fingers and then slowly squished her fat ass and then made his way to her ass crack. Slowly he dug deep and made his way to her anal hole. I'm sure that he was about to penetrate her asshole just as I rang the bell.

Probably after I left, they continued their massage. My mind raced with imaginary images of a man finger-fucking Ma's ass in this same bed where I was seated.

His hand moved with strong fingers in small circles around the sensitive areas of her anus. The oil smoothed the friction as he pumped his finger. The tip of his finger explored her dirty anal hole, feeling the warm tightness of her anus with pleasure.

The tight ring of muscle grabs his finger, making him work hard to pull it out. Maa moaned with a mix of shock and pleasure. And I'm sure he made her cum from her asshole.

Maybe after that he ate her pussy, or maybe she sucked his hard manly cock dry. Who knows what dirty deeds Maa did behind my back.

I felt a mix of anger and shame. Why would my loving mother do something so shallow and slutty? I felt frustrated. The truth was my mother was the only person that I considered a friend. Who wouldn't judge me for what I am.

Seeing that the same person is hiding something from me is just so unacceptable. I rubbed my forehead as I dug deeper into my mind, unearthing my old memories. The last suspect was Uncle Basu.

My cheeks flushed as I recalled his name. He is my mother's old school friend. He often visits us, mostly when I'm not at home. He had a soulful voice that seemed to make Maa glow from within whenever he sang.

I had seen once or twice Maa and Uncle Basu singing together for hours. Uncle Basu lacks physical strength, but he makes it up with his charming face and singing.

Maa is a sucker for classical music, and because of the same taste, they are so close. Close enough to ask her to put a condom on his dick so he could play her pussy.

Suddenly it all started to make sense, as if she ever let any man in her pussy, it would definitely be Basu uncle. The whispering giggles behind closed doors, the tense look in their eyes during their singing session, and that awkward way they looked at each other when I walked in on them.

To prove my point even further, I had a peculiar memory of a particular day that started surfacing in my mind.

I just came back from Ria's house. I made my way to the dining room and found two empty cups sitting on the coffee table. I called Maa and looked in the kitchen, living room, and even in the first-floor bathroom, but she was nowhere to be found.

My footsteps and sound echoed through the house as I called her. Suddenly, I heard a muffled thumping sound coming from upstairs.

As I made my way to the second floor, I heard Maa's voice coming from her room. I opened the ajar door and saw Maa. She was hastily changing the bedsheets. Her hair was a wild mess, her cheeks flushed red, and she was drenched in a sheen of sweat.

The air was thick with an unusual scent that closely resembled as pee. Her light blue blouse was completely wet. I could see her breasts through her wet blouse. As soon as she noticed that Maa covered her chest with her pallu.

She looked clearly nervous, but she somehow maintained her calm composure. When I asked what had happened, Maa chuckled. She cleared her throat and explained, Uncle Basu was playing the harmonium when suddenly the lights went out.

"He's such a dedicated singer," Maa had said, "Even in the dark, he didn't stop."

"What about you?" I asked.

"I was dueting with him. And I was so lost in the moment that I didn't bother to stop to open the window." Maa explained, "Sadly, the light came back just after our duet was over."

I shifted my gaze to the crumpled-up bedsheet on the floor. It was covered in sweat and weird stains in several spots. I again looked back at Maa, and it felt like she was about to say something, but it was cut off by a knowing laugh.

It was Uncle Basu. He came out of the attached bedroom bathroom. He was adjusting his belt and holding a small plastic bag in his left hand. I couldn't tell what he was hiding in that small plastic bag, but now I think it was those used condoms that Maa gave him to dispose of.

He quickly put that bag in his pocket as Maa gave him a side eye. Then I didn't pay that much attention to them and went to my room. But now, it all made sense as I stared at the condoms. I couldn't ignore the fact that they had hidden sexual intercourse that day.