The last thing he saw before death was a glowing screen.
A harem novel—another one—filled with beautiful women, tragic love, and impossible wish fulfillment. He had read hundreds of them. He knew every trope, every betrayal, every false promise of happiness. And yet… he still chased them.
He was alone in his small, suffocating room. Curtains closed. Fan humming. Phone in hand. His heart was pounding, not from excitement, but from something far more dangerous—loneliness mixed with longing.
He didn't even remember the title of the novel anymore.
He only remembered the feeling.
That desperate need to be wanted. To be loved. To be desired.
And then—
A sharp pain.
His vision blurred. His chest tightened. The screen slipped from his fingers, bouncing once on the bed before falling to the floor.
His last thought wasn't fear.
It was regret.
"Even in fantasies… I was never chosen."
Darkness swallowed him.
Warmth replaced the cold.
He felt fabric against his skin. A soft bed. A faint scent—jasmine and sandalwood. The air felt heavier. Richer. Real.
Slowly, painfully, he opened his eyes.
The ceiling above him was not the cracked concrete of his old room. It was wooden, polished, glowing faintly with morning light.
He gasped.
His body was… different. Stronger. Younger. Whole.
A voice trembled nearby.
"Thank god… you're awake."
He turned his head.
And froze.
Standing beside the bed was a woman whose presence was impossible to ignore.
Her name would soon enter his mind as if already known:
Kajal Roy.
She was in her early thirties, a widow, but nothing about her carried decay or defeat. She was tall, with a soft, curving figure that spoke of maturity rather than fragility. Her long black hair was tied loosely behind her back, strands falling across her face. Her skin had a warm golden-brown glow, smooth and radiant.
Her eyes were what held him.
Deep. Dark. Tired.
The eyes of a woman who had loved and lost… and survived.
She wore a simple cotton sari, pale blue, clinging gently to her curves. There was no attempt to be seductive—yet she was overwhelmingly so. Not because of what she showed, but because of what she was.
A woman who had lived.
A woman who had suffered.
A woman who was still beautiful.
"Arjun… you scared me," she whispered.
That name—Arjun—echoed inside his skull.
Memories that were not his rushed in.
This body's past.
This world.
This woman… was his mother.
But not in the way he had been born before.
This Arjun was 19 years old.
An adult.
The son of a widow who had raised him alone after her husband died in a mysterious accident.
His mind reeled.
I died… and became him?
Kajal took his hand. Her touch was warm. Real.
"You collapsed in your room," she said softly. "I thought I lost you too."
The word too carried more weight than she let show.
She had already lost her husband.
She could not lose her son.
And something twisted inside him when he realized it.
For the first time… someone was afraid of losing him.
As he tried to speak, a strange sensation spread through his head—like cold wires sliding into his brain.
A voice, not Kajal's, echoed inside him.
⟨ SYSTEM UPLOADING… ⟩
He stiffened.
⟨ SOUL SYNCHRONIZATION: 97% ⟩
⟨ MEMORY MERGE COMPLETE ⟩
⟨ WELCOME, USER ⟩
His heart thundered.
⟨ YOU HAVE BEEN SELECTED AS A VESSEL OF DESIRE ⟩
⟨ CORE ENTITY: FARVART ⟩
"What?"
"Loose my virginity to my mom? How? I can't do it."
Arjun tried to deny all of these. To fresh his mind, he decided to go out. He came out from his room.
He goes to sit in park. But even though he tried to forget her. His mind kept imaging her in bed. Moaning. Enjoying.
As evening start to come. He goes home.
Arjun's pov:
The scent of spices and my mother's perfume fills the air as i enter the kitchen. Kajal, radiant in her saree, beams at me, her eyes crinkling at the corners. *She pushes a stray strand of hair behind her ear, her fingers lingering for a moment on her neck. The fabric of her saree slides slightly, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of her cleavage.* "Welcome home, sweetheart," *she says, her voice a warm caress.* "I made your favorite biryani. Come, tell me about your day. Did anything interesting happen?" *She looks at me expectantly, her lips curved in a seductive smile.*
I couldn't control my urges anymore.
I hug her from behind.
Kajal lets out a soft, contented sigh as my arms wrap around her from behind. She leans back into my embrace, her body relaxing against mine. The warmth of her skin seeps through the thin fabric of her saree, and i can feel the gentle rise and fall of her chest with each breath. *She turns her head slightly, her cheek brushing against mine.* "Mmm, that's a wonderful welcome," *she murmurs, her voice low and husky.* "Did you miss your mommy today?"
I couldn't answer.
Her hands come up to cover mine on her stomach, pressing them firmly against her soft midriff. She shifts subtly in my arms, the movement causing the pallu of her saree to slip further down, exposing more of her smooth shoulder and the delicate curve of her neck. The scent of jasmine from her hair fills my senses. "You're getting so strong," *she coos, nuzzling against you.*
I pull her closer, tighter.
Mom, Kajal gasps softly as I pull her closer, her body molding perfectly against mine. The pressure of my embrace makes her breath catch in her throat, and she presses herself back into mine with a contented moan. Her hands slide from my hand to rest on my forearms, her fingers gently squeezing the muscles there.
"Oh, my darling boy," *she breathes, her voice thick with affection and something else—something deeper and more primal.* "You hold your mother so tightly. It feels so good to be in your arms."
She tilts her head back, resting it on my shoulder and exposing the long, graceful line of her neck. The necklace she wears glints in the kitchen light, drawing attention to the hollow of her throat. Her hips shift slightly against yours, a subtle movement that sends a jolt of electricity through you. "Did you have a good day at park? Did any pretty girls catch your eye?" *
"No! I am just trying to make myself comfortable today!" I answered. My hands molding her waist. My breath touched her neck.
Kajal shivers as my warm breath ghosts across her neck. A low, throaty laugh escapes her lips, and she arches her back slightly, pressing herself more firmly against you. "Comfortable, are you?" *she purrs, her voice a velvety whisper.* "Well, your mother is always happy to provide comfort."
Her hands slide up my arms to rest on my shoulders, her nails gently digging into my skin through the fabric of my shirt. She turns her head just enough to capture my lips in a soft, lingering kiss. "You're such a good boy," *she murmurs against your mouth.* "Always so considerate of your mommy's feelings."
I was shocked. But the last inside me make me forget it easily.
For the first time in both life I was getting to kiss.
Her hips move in a slow, sensual circle against mine, the friction sending waves of pleasure through both of us. The thin fabric of her saree does little to hide the warmth and softness of her body. "You know,"
"what are your feelings?" I ask.
Kajal's lips curve into a slow, seductive smile at my question. She shifts in my arms, turning to face me fully. Her hands slide up to cup my face, her thumbs gently stroking my cheeks. "My feelings?" *she repeats, her voice a low purr.* "My feelings are that I love having my handsome son close to me like this."
Her eyes, dark and alluring, lock onto mine. She leans in closer, her lips almost touching mine. "I feel happy when you're here with me. Safe. And... excited." *She punctuates the last word with a soft bite to her lower lip.*
Her hips press forward against mine, leaving no doubt about the effect I am having on her. The fabric of her saree rustles as she moves, the scent of her perfume and arousal filling the air between us. "Does that answer your question, sweetheart?" *she whispers, her breath warm against your skin.*
" I am so hungry!" I said and bite on her lips.
A surprised gasp escapes Kajal's lips as i bite down on them, but it quickly turns into a soft moan of pleasure. Her hands tighten on my face, pulling me closer as she parts her lips to grant you access. Her tongue meets mine in a slow, sensual dance, the taste of her lipstick and the unique flavor of her mouth filling my senses.
"Mmm, so hungry," *she murmurs against my lips, her voice husky with desire.* "Let's see if we can find something to satisfy that appetite."
Her hips grind against mine with more urgency now, the friction building between us both. The pallu of her saree falls completely away, exposing the smooth skin of her shoulders and the swell of her breasts above the low neckline. She presses herself against me, her soft curves molding perfectly to my hard body.
"Maybe we can have our dessert first," *she suggests playfully, nipping at your lower lip.*
I pin her against the wall. I pull her kin kiss. I kiss her lips. Continue to bite and suck them.
I let my lust and desires completely Devour me. Today she was mine.
Kajal lets out a surprised cry that quickly morphs into a deep, throaty moan as i pin her against the kitchen wall. Her hands fly up to tangle in my hair, pulling me closer as my lips meet hers in a passionate, hungry kiss. She meets my bites and sucks with equal fervor, her own teeth grazing my lower lip.
"Yes, just like that," *she pants between kisses, her voice heavy with desire.* "Kiss your mommy like you mean it."
Her legs wrap around my waist, locking me in place as she grinds her hips against mine. The thin fabric of her saree is the only barrier between us now, and it does little to hide her arousal. Her breasts press against my chest, their softness yielding to the hard planes of your muscles.
"Mmm, you taste so good," *she murmurs against my mouth.* "Like my sweet boy."
"I can't control my urges anymore mom. Kneel down and open your mouth mom." I ordered.
Kajal's eyes widen at my commanding tone, a thrill of excitement coursing through her. A slow, obedient smile spreads across her lips as she looks up at me, her gaze filled with adoration and lust. "Yes, my darling," *she whispers, her voice trembling slightly.* "Whatever you want."
She slowly unravels herself from my embrace, sliding down my body until she's kneeling on the kitchen floor before me. Her hands rest on my thighs, her touch light and reverent. She looks up at you through her long lashes, her lips parted in anticipation.
"Open wide for mommy," *she coos, tilting her head back and opening her mouth invitingly.* "Let me taste my sweet boy." Her tongue darts out to wet her lips, a clear signal of her readiness and desire to please me.
But I planned to do something naughty. Something that I always wanted to do in my dreams.
"Mom open your mouth and drink my spit." I ordered.
Kajal's eyes gleam with excitement at my order. She obediently opens her mouth wide, her tongue extended in a clear invitation. Her gaze remains fixed on my face, watching my reaction intently.
"Yes, darling," *she whispers, her voice husky with desire.* "Mommy will drink every drop you give her."
She leans forward slightly, her lips parted and ready. Her hands grip my thighs tighter, her nails digging into the fabric of my pants as she waits for you to fulfill my command. The anticipation hangs heavy in the air between us, thick with lust and affection.
"Give it to me," *she urges softly.* "Let me taste you." Her tongue flicks out again, a desperate plea for me to satisfy her craving.
I spit a mouthful of spit in her mouth.