Grandmother, Who, Me?

"Grandmother, Who, Me?"

Chapter 10: The First Night and the Neighbor

Lakshmi’s POV (Satish)

Night fell quietly over the villa.

I stood in front of the bedroom mirror wearing a simple cotton nighty that Shreya had given me. Soft pale pink with tiny flowers, loose and modest. The fabric felt strange against my newly sensitive skin. It brushed over my heavy breasts with every small movement, making the nipples harden and ache. The hem fell mid-thigh, and every time I shifted, the soft material slid across the smooth, hairless skin of my thighs and the locked, flattened mound between my legs.

I looked ridiculous. Or rather… I looked exactly like a middle-aged Tamil mother-in-law preparing for bed.

The door opened softly. Shreya walked in wearing a thin black negligee that barely covered her pregnant curves. The soft light from the bedside lamp made the fabric almost translucent. She looked beautiful… and deliberately seductive.

I swallowed hard.

“What an important dil,” I tried to tease, my new mature voice coming out lower and huskier than I expected. “Coming to her mother-in-law’s room dressed like this?”

Shreya smiled, a slow, mischievous smile, and came closer. She placed both hands on my soft waist, feeling the new shape of my body through the nighty.

“You’re my mother-in-law now, Attai,” she whispered, her breath warm against my ear. “Remember? We have to stay in character.”

Her fingers trailed lightly over the side of my breast. The sensation was sharp and electric. My locked cock twitched uselessly inside the tiny flat cage. There was nowhere for the arousal to go. Just pressure, frustration, and the constant reminder that I could do nothing about it.

She pretended not to notice. Or maybe she noticed everything and simply enjoyed watching me struggle.

“You look so soft in this nighty,” she murmured, still acting innocent. “Very motherly.”

We eventually lay down side by side. The bed felt too small for this new body. My heavy breasts rested against my arm. The nighty kept riding up. Every time Shreya shifted closer, the soft fabric of her negligee brushed against my skin. I stayed hard inside the cage for a long time, aching and denied, until exhaustion finally pulled me under.

Morning came too quickly.

I woke up already feeling the weight of the breasts and the slight soreness in my lower back. Shreya helped me dress again another simple cotton saree, this time in soft green. She adjusted the blouse, tied the petticoat tightly, and fixed the pallu properly. The anklets went back on. The soft jingling followed me everywhere.

I moved around the house trying to help folding clothes, wiping the kitchen counter, watering the plants. Every action felt wrong and strangely natural at the same time. The sway of the hips, the bounce of the breasts, the way the saree fabric pulled when I bent down… I was starting to adapt, and that scared me more than the discomfort.

Maybe I can bear this, I thought. Just a few days. I can do this for her.

The doorbell rang.

My heart jumped. Shreya was still in the bathroom bathing.

I had no choice.

I walked to the door, the anklets announcing every step, and opened it.

A woman around fifty stood there. Fair, slightly plump, wearing a neat cotton saree, with the confident smile of a typical Tamil neighbor auntie.

“Vanakkam,” she said warmly. “I am Lakshmi from next door… wait, your name is also Lakshmi? What a coincidence! I am Meena’s mother-in-law. We just moved in. I thought I should introduce myself.”

I stood there awkwardly, hands clasped in front of me, trying to keep my voice steady.

“Vanakkam… yes… I am Lakshmi,” I managed. The mature voice still felt foreign in my own mouth.

She smiled wider and began chatting easily, about the neighborhood, the weather, how nice it was that I had come to stay with my pregnant daughter-in-law. I answered in short, careful sentences, praying Shreya would finish her bath soon.

Footsteps approached from behind. Shreya appeared, hair still damp, wearing a loose salwar. The moment she saw the neighbor and my stiff, awkward posture, a small, evil little laugh escaped her before she quickly covered it with a polite smile.

She stepped forward smoothly, taking over the conversation with perfect daughter-in-law grace. After a few more minutes of polite talk, the older woman finally left with a cheerful wave.

“We’ll be good friends, Lakshmi! I’ll come again soon!”

The door closed.

I leaned against it, breathing hard, the heavy breasts rising and falling under the saree.

Fuck… what did I sign up for?