[sharath841]

Chapter 29 
The bedroom remained steeped in a heavy silence.
Padma sat at the edge of the mattress, her hands folded tightly in her lap. Mohan stood near the window frame, suspended in hesitation—torn between stepping closer to comfort her and keeping his distance out of respect for her pain.
For the first time in their marriage, there was no illusion left to protect, no secrets left to hide behind.
? Padma: “Mohan…”
He turned, his face drawn with quiet anxiety.
? Padma: “When you shared those photographs… what were you actually thinking?”
Mohan walked slowly across the room and sat on the opposite edge of the bed, leaving a deliberate gap between them.
? Mohan: “I don’t have a good answer, Padma.”
? Padma: “Then give me the honest one. I deserve that much.”
He lowered his gaze, staring at the floor patterns.
? Mohan: “I liked the idea of other men noticing you… of knowing how attractive my wife is to others.”
Padma’s eyes remained fixed on him, her expression a mix of sorrow and quiet disbelief.
? Mohan: “I knew it was wrong. But the fantasy slowly became stronger than my judgment.”
Padma remained motionless, letting his words settle into the quiet room. Then she asked, her voice barely above a whisper:
? Padma: “Did you think I was beautiful?”
Mohan looked up, caught completely off guard by the fragile vulnerability in her question.
? Mohan: “More than anyone, Padma. You know you are everything to me.”
A faint, bittersweet smile touched her lips—a fleeting glimpse of her deep affection fighting through the pain.
? Padma: “Then why wasn’t my love enough?”
Mohan had no immediate answer. He swallowed hard, struggling to articulate his own flaws.
? Mohan: “Because I was confused about myself… about my own inadequacies.”
Padma looked down at her hands, taking a deep, shuddering breath to steady her emotions.
? Padma: “I can understand having dark thoughts, Mohan. We are all human.” She paused, her voice trembling slightly. “But I cannot accept you making me a part of your fantasies without my permission. My modesty was yours to protect, not to share.”
? Mohan: “You shouldn’t accept it. I broke your trust.”
Padma was silent for a long moment. Then, with a slow, deliberate movement born of her traditional devotion, she reached across the gap and took his hand.
? Padma: “If we are going to save this marriage… if we are going to stay together, there can never be another secret like this between us.”
? Mohan: “There won’t be. I swear it.”
She looked deep into his eyes, searching for sincerity.
? Padma: “And Rajan?”
Mohan’s expression tightened instantly, a flash of genuine protective anger crossing his face.
? Mohan: “He needs to stay completely out of our lives.”
Padma nodded slowly, her hand tightening around his fingers.
? Padma: “Yes. Whatever happens next, we face it together.”
Mohan leaned in closer, gently resting his forehead against hers. For several seconds, neither spoke, holding onto each other in the dim light.
The anger between them hadn’t magically disappeared. The profound hurt hadn’t vanished either. But something vital had returned to the room—trust. Fragile, wounded, and incomplete, but still alive.
Bzzzt. Bzzzt.
Padma’s phone vibrated against the wooden surface of the bedside table.
Both of them froze, turning their heads toward the glowing screen.
A new notification.
Unsaved Number. Rajan.
Padma didn’t reach for it. She simply stared at the illuminated glass, her posture tensing slightly.
The phone vibrated a second time.
Mohan looked at her, his voice firm and reassuring.
? Mohan: “Don’t open it.”
Padma nodded, squeezing his hand.
? Padma: “I won’t.”
Neither of them picked up the device. But on the locked home screen, the brief notification preview displayed four simple, chilling words:
? Rajan (Message): “Now you know everything.”
Padma’s breathing hitched as her eyes caught the preview. The blood seemed to drain from her face.
Because a terrifying realization suddenly struck her—
How did Rajan know what they had just discussed inside their private bedroom?

[sharath841]

The bedroom fell back into a heavy, intoxicating silence.
Padma kept staring at the phone on the wooden bedside table. The screen had gone dark, but those four chilling words seemed to linger in the dim light, burning straight into her mind.
“Now you know everything.”
Slowly, her fingers reached out and picked up the phone. The movement pulled the soft chiffon of her saree tight across her chest, the subtle rise and fall of her breath betraying the pulse racing underneath.
Mohan watched her closely, his gaze shifting from the sheer dbang of her outfit to the quiet tension in her posture.
? Mohan: “Padma…”
? Padma: “I just want to know how he knows, Mohan.”
She unlocked the screen. The backlight illuminated her face, casting a warm glow over her dark eyes and flushed cheeks.
There was nothing else in the chat. No explanation. No photograph. No explicit threat. Just those four words resting on the screen like a shadow.
Padma’s expression tightened, her lips parting slightly in disbelief.
? Padma: “This is impossible…”
? Mohan: “Maybe he’s just bluffing, Padma. Trying to stir things up between us.”
? Padma: “Maybe.” She turned to look at him, her gaze searching, electric, and wounded all at once. “But he knew about the group. He knew about the photographs. He knew what you were hiding from me in the dark.”
Mohan went completely quiet, unable to break the intensity of her stare.
Padma placed the phone softly on the bed between them, right near his hand.
? Padma: “And now he knows we talked about it. In this very room.”
? Mohan: “He’s trying to frighten you.”
? Padma: “He’s succeeding,” she whispered, her voice carrying a soft, breathy rhythm that sent a shiver straight down his spine.
Mohan moved closer, bridging the physical gap until the warm scent of jasmine drifting from her hair wrapped around him.
? Mohan: “Then don’t let him win, Padma.”
She looked up into his eyes, her modesty battling with the raw closeness of the moment.
? Padma: “You know what scares me the most, Mohan?”
? Mohan: “What?”
? Padma: “I don’t know how much he knows... or how much he’s seen.”
Mohan reached down and gently covered her hand with his. Her skin was warm, slightly damp with tension. This time, she didn’t pull away; instead, her fingers slid between his, anchoring herself to him.
? Mohan: “We’ll find out together.”
Padma nodded slowly, her heart hammering against her ribs.
Bzzzt.
The phone vibrated right beside their intertwined hands. Both of them froze, their breathing syncing in the sudden pause.
Another message from Rajan.
Padma looked down at the glowing screen, but hesitated to tap the notification.
? Mohan: “Don’t open it.”
She paused, her thumb hovering over the glass, the subtle heat of the moment suspended between them.
Then she opened it.
? Rajan (Message): “You asked me why you. (In cafe she asked Rajan why me ? )You still haven’t heard the whole answer.”
Padma’s breath caught in her throat, a delicate shiver running down her spine.
? Padma: “What does he mean?”
Mohan read the words over her bare shoulder, his chest dangerously close to her back.
? Mohan: “I don’t know…”
Bzzzt.
A third message flashed instantly beneath the second.
? Rajan (Message): “Tomorrow. Same café.”
Padma stared at the screen, her shy nature yielding to a quiet, burning fire inside her. She locked the device with a sharp click.
? Padma: “No.”
? Mohan: “Good.”
She turned to face him fully, her saree pallu slipping just an inch off her shoulder, exposing the elegant curve of her neck. Her eyes held a fierce, irresistible resolve.
? Padma: “But I’m not going to keep running either.”
Mohan frowned, his gaze lingering on her determined face.
? Mohan: “What are you saying?”
? Padma: “If Rajan has something to say, he’ll say it in front of both of us. Face to face.”
She picked up the phone once more. With quick, trembling, yet firm taps of her fingers, she typed her reply.
? Padma: “Tomorrow. You, me, and Mohan. Nothing else.”
The reply preview popped up almost instantaneously, as if Rajan had been staring at his screen waiting for her touch.
? Rajan (Message): “Agreed.”
Padma set the phone face down on the nightstand, closing the chapter for tonight. She looked into Mohan’s eyes, her posture radiate with an alluring, newfound strength.
? Padma: “This time, he doesn’t control the conversation.”
Mohan nodded, reaching up to gently brush a dark strand of hair behind her ear.
? Mohan: “This time, we do.”
But neither of them realized that Rajan was already one step ahead—and the revelation he had prepared for tomorrow’s meeting would change everything between them forever.

[sharath841]

The next morning, Padma woke earlier than usual, the quiet stillness of the apartment feeling heavy around her.
She stood before the bedroom vanity mirror, slowly drawing a wooden comb through her long, dark hair. She was still carrying the deep, aching hurt from the previous evening, but something else—something confusing and persistent—was tugging at the edge of her thoughts.
Rajan.
She paused, staring at her own reflection in the glass, her dark eyes narrowing.
? Padma: “Why am I even thinking about him?”
She shook her head, pulling her hair back into a loose, traditional braid.
? Padma: “Stop it, Padma. Just stop it.”
She neatly tucked the pallu of her soft cotton saree around her waist and stepped out toward the kitchen.
Bzzzt.
Her phone vibrated against the dining table. Her heart did a strange, involuntary flip. She already knew who it was.
She stood over the table, hesitating for a long moment before picking up the device.
? Rajan (Message): “You looked breathtaking when you were angry yesterday.”
Padma stared at the screen, her brows drawing together into a tight, sharp frown. Irritation flared inside her, but beneath the anger, a sudden warmth crept over her skin. The text forced her to become painfully, vividly aware of her own body—the sharp, fiery gaze she’d held, the quick rise and fall of her breath, the flush that had stained her cheeks when she refused to back down.
She hated that a simple text message could instantly drag her back into that moment.
Bzzzt.
? Rajan (Message): “That little frown between your eyebrows… those dark, angry eyes… and the subtle way your lips tightened when you were trying to hold back your temper.”
Padma’s cheeks burned. The sheer detail of his observation felt like a physical hand tracing her face. She immediately locked the phone, setting it down with a sharp clatter.
? Padma: “Shameless man…” she muttered under her breath, turning toward the kitchen counter.
She took three steps, stopped, and looked back at the dining table.
Slowly, almost against her own will, she walked back and picked up the phone again. Her eyes traced the words once more, her thumb lightly resting on the glass.
? Rajan (Message): “You looked angry, proud… and dangerously attractive.”
Padma stared at the screen. For a fleeting, foolish second, a faint, involuntary smile touched the corners of her lips—a sudden spark of feminine vanity blooming in her chest.
Then the reality of her traditional values crashed back in, and the smile evaporated instantly.
? Padma: “No,” she whispered to herself, slamming the phone face down.
She turned away, but the compliment had already found a crack in her defenses, settling deep within her mind.
Mohan walked out of the bedroom, rubbing his eyes softly as he entered the dining space.
? Mohan: “Good morning, Padma.”
Padma turned around quickly, smoothing her saree pallu over her chest.
? Mohan: “Is everything okay?”
She forced a calm, composure onto her face, her voice soft and dutiful.
? Padma: “Yes… everything is fine. I'm just making tea.”
Mohan stepped closer, his eyes softening as he looked at her pale, elegant face.
? Mohan: “You look very beautiful today, Padma.”
Padma gave him a faint, bittersweet smile, her mind briefly tangling the two men together.
? Padma: “You two are becoming very good at compliments.”
Mohan stopped in his tracks, his brows furrowing in confusion.
? Mohan: “You two?”
Padma froze. A sudden jolt of cold panic shot through her as she realized what had almost slipped past her lips.
? Padma: “I meant… you and your imagination,” she covered quickly, offering a light, playful tilt of her head.
Mohan let out a soft laugh, the tension leaving his shoulders.
? Mohan: “Okay. I’ll take that as a compliment then.”
Padma smiled back, but as Mohan turned to walk toward the bathroom, her smile faded completely. Her mind had already wandered far away from the quiet safety of her home.
Later that morning, while Mohan was in the balcony on an official work call, Padma stood alone in the quiet living room. She unlocked her phone and opened Rajan’s chat once more.
She knew she shouldn’t. She knew she was playing right into his hands.
He wasn't touching her. He wasn't standing in front of her or forcing her into a corner. He was simply selecting words that forced her to view herself through his hungry, dominating eyes. And somehow, that psychological touch was far more intimate, far more unsettling than anything else.
Bzzzt.
? Rajan (Message): “Tomorrow, when you come to the café, don’t come angry.”
Padma frowned at the screen, her breathing shallow.
? Rajan (Message): “Come curious.”
She stared at those two words—Come curious. Her thumb hovered over the keyboard. A part of her wanted to send a sharp, defensive reply, to assert her boundaries and remind him of her husband's presence. But she held back.
Instead, she locked the phone and walked back into the bedroom, stopping right before the tall mirror.
She looked at her reflection in the soft morning light. The loose braid, the traditional dbang of her cotton saree, the subtle swell of her chest as she took a slow breath. Then his words echoed back in her ears—Angry. Proud. Dangerously attractive.
Her cheeks flushed with a sudden, warm heat. She immediately looked away from her own reflection, her hand clutching her saree pallu tight against her heart.
? Padma: “He’s getting into my head…”
And that realization frightened her more than any physical threat he had made.
She wasn't falling for Rajan—not even close. Her heart belonged to her husband and her quiet, traditional life. But his calculated, intoxicating attention had begun to feel like a dangerous, forbidden temptation she couldn't entirely shut out.
And Rajan understood something Padma was still desperately trying to deny:
He didn't need to touch her skin to make her feel his presence inside her home.

[sharath841]

The next morning, Padma woke earlier than usual, the quiet stillness of the apartment feeling heavy around her.
She stood before the bedroom vanity mirror, slowly drawing a wooden comb through her long, dark hair. She was still carrying the deep, aching hurt from the previous evening, but something else—something confusing and persistent—was tugging at the edge of her thoughts.
Rajan.
She paused, staring at her own reflection in the glass, her dark eyes narrowing.
? Padma: “Why am I even thinking about him?”
She shook her head, pulling her hair back into a loose, traditional braid.
? Padma: “Stop it, Padma. Just stop it.”
She neatly tucked the pallu of her soft cotton saree around her waist and stepped out toward the kitchen.
Bzzzt.
Her phone vibrated against the dining table. Her heart did a strange, involuntary flip. She already knew who it was.
She stood over the table, hesitating for a long moment before picking up the device.
? Rajan (Message): “You looked breathtaking when you were angry yesterday.”
Padma stared at the screen, her brows drawing together into a tight, sharp frown. Irritation flared inside her, but beneath the anger, a sudden warmth crept over her skin. The text forced her to become painfully, vividly aware of her own body—the sharp, fiery gaze she’d held, the quick rise and fall of her breath, the flush that had stained her cheeks when she refused to back down.
She hated that a simple text message could instantly drag her back into that moment.
Bzzzt.
? Rajan (Message): “That little frown between your eyebrows… those dark, angry eyes… and the subtle way your lips tightened when you were trying to hold back your temper.”
Padma’s cheeks burned. The sheer detail of his observation felt like a physical hand tracing her face. She immediately locked the phone, setting it down with a sharp clatter.
? Padma: “Shameless man…” she muttered under her breath, turning toward the kitchen counter.
She took three steps, stopped, and looked back at the dining table.
Slowly, almost against her own will, she walked back and picked up the phone again. Her eyes traced the words once more, her thumb lightly resting on the glass.
? Rajan (Message): “You looked angry, proud… and dangerously attractive.”
Padma stared at the screen. For a fleeting, foolish second, a faint, involuntary smile touched the corners of her lips—a sudden spark of feminine vanity blooming in her chest.
Then the reality of her traditional values crashed back in, and the smile evaporated instantly.
? Padma: “No,” she whispered to herself, slamming the phone face down.
She turned away, but the compliment had already found a crack in her defenses, settling deep within her mind.
Mohan walked out of the bedroom, rubbing his eyes softly as he entered the dining space.
? Mohan: “Good morning, Padma.”
Padma turned around quickly, smoothing her saree pallu over her chest.
? Mohan: “Is everything okay?”
She forced a calm, composure onto her face, her voice soft and dutiful.
? Padma: “Yes… everything is fine. I'm just making tea.”
Mohan stepped closer, his eyes softening as he looked at her pale, elegant face.
? Mohan: “You look very beautiful today, Padma.”
Padma gave him a faint, bittersweet smile, her mind briefly tangling the two men together.
? Padma: “You two are becoming very good at compliments.”
Mohan stopped in his tracks, his brows furrowing in confusion.
? Mohan: “You two?”
Padma froze. A sudden jolt of cold panic shot through her as she realized what had almost slipped past her lips.
? Padma: “I meant… you and your imagination,” she covered quickly, offering a light, playful tilt of her head.
Mohan let out a soft laugh, the tension leaving his shoulders.
? Mohan: “Okay. I’ll take that as a compliment then.”
Padma smiled back, but as Mohan turned to walk toward the bathroom, her smile faded completely. Her mind had already wandered far away from the quiet safety of her home.
Later that morning, while Mohan was in the balcony on an official work call, Padma stood alone in the quiet living room. She unlocked her phone and opened Rajan’s chat once more.
She knew she shouldn’t. She knew she was playing right into his hands.
He wasn't touching her. He wasn't standing in front of her or forcing her into a corner. He was simply selecting words that forced her to view herself through his hungry, dominating eyes. And somehow, that psychological touch was far more intimate, far more unsettling than anything else.
Bzzzt.
? Rajan (Message): “Tomorrow, when you come to the café, don’t come angry.”
Padma frowned at the screen, her breathing shallow.
? Rajan (Message): “Come curious.”
She stared at those two words—Come curious. Her thumb hovered over the keyboard. A part of her wanted to send a sharp, defensive reply, to assert her boundaries and remind him of her husband's presence. But she held back.
Instead, she locked the phone and walked back into the bedroom, stopping right before the tall mirror.
She looked at her reflection in the soft morning light. The loose braid, the traditional dbang of her cotton saree, the subtle swell of her chest as she took a slow breath. Then his words echoed back in her ears—Angry. Proud. Dangerously attractive.
Her cheeks flushed with a sudden, warm heat. She immediately looked away from her own reflection, her hand clutching her saree pallu tight against her heart.
? Padma: “He’s getting into my head…”
And that realization frightened her more than any physical threat he had made.
She wasn't falling for Rajan—not even close. Her heart belonged to her husband and her quiet, traditional life. But his calculated, intoxicating attention had begun to feel like a dangerous, forbidden temptation she couldn't entirely shut out.
And Rajan understood something Padma was still desperately trying to deny:
He didn't need to touch her skin to make her feel his presence inside her home.

[sharath841]

The dark, rich fabric of her saree dbangd with effortless elegance, hugging her silhouette before cascading gracefully to the floor. Standing before the vanity mirror, Padma smoothed the pleats at her waist once more, her dark eyes lingering on her reflection.
The modest dbang was traditional, yet undeniable in its allure—a subtle, intoxicating blend of innocence and quiet confidence.
Her fingers paused over the silk pallu resting against her chest. Unbidden, Rajan’s words from yesterday echoed back with vivid clarity: Angry. Proud. Dangerously attractive.
A soft, troubled flush rose to her cheeks.
? Padma: “Why am I remembering that?” she murmured to her empty room, shaking her head as if to dispel the thought.
Bzzzt.
The phone screen lit up on the dresser. Her chest tightened slightly. She didn't need to look at the display to know the sender.
Rajan.
She stood still for a long heartbeat, her internal resistance warring with an involuntary surge of heat, before picking up the phone.
? Rajan (Message): “You came back to the mirror, didn't you?”
Padma’s dark eyes widened, her breath catching softly in her throat. Her eyes darted instinctively around the quiet bedroom.
? Padma: “How does he know…?”
Bzzzt.
? Rajan (Message): “Relax. I’m not watching you.”
A brief, tantalizing pause before the next text arrived.
? Rajan (Message): “I’m just learning how predictable—and fascinating—curiosity can make a woman like you.”
Padma’s brows drew together, her lips parting slightly.
? Padma: “You think you know me, Rajan?”
? Rajan (Message): “No. That’s why I’m so curious.”
She stared at the screen, the words burning through her defenses. There was something dangerously flattering about the intense, laser-focused way he noticed the subtle nuances of her behavior—details her own husband had long taken for granted. She hated that his attention made her heart beat faster.
She slammed the phone face down. Then, with a quiet, breathy sigh, she turned back to the mirror once more to check her pallu before leaving.
The air inside the dimly lit, upscale café was cool and heavy with the rich scent of dark roast and warm spices.
Rajan was already seated at his usual corner table, a half-empty espresso resting in front of him. When the glass entrance door chimed, his sharp, dark eyes immediately found her.
Padma walked in beside Mohan, her posture straight, her chin subtly raised. The deep, rich color of her saree accentuated the soft curve of her waist as she moved with a natural, unforced grace. Nothing about her outfit was loud, yet the room seemed to shrink around her.
Rajan slowly stood up, a dark, appreciative smile spreading across his features. His eyes lingered on her with an unhurried, dominant intensity.
? Rajan: “There you are.”
Padma stopped two steps from the table, her hands clutching her small handbag in front of her chest.
? Padma: “Why are you looking at me like that?”
? Rajan: “Because you’re remarkably difficult not to notice, Padma.”
Mohan immediately stepped into the space between them, his voice tight and defensive.
? Mohan: “We’re here to talk business, Rajan. Cut the games.”
Rajan glanced casually at Mohan, wholly unfazed, before bringing his heavy, magnetic gaze right back to Padma.
? Rajan: “I know why we're here, Mohan. But admit it, Padma—you knew exactly how breathtaking you looked when you stepped out of the house today.”
A sudden, warm flush spread down Padma’s neck, contrasting sharply with her fierce, guarded expression.
? Padma: “Don’t flatter yourself.”
She pulled out a chair and sat down with crisp, elegant composure, keeping her spine straight and her hands neatly folded over the dark silk in her lap. Rajan watched the fluid motion of her dbang before slowly lowering himself into his seat opposite them.
? Rajan: “You know what I find truly fascinating about you, Padma?”
? Padma: “What?”
? Rajan: “You’re becoming far less shy around me. The innocent, terrified housewife is fading.”
Padma’s dark eyes hardened instantly, holding his gaze with a cold, piercing intensity.
? Padma: “Don’t misunderstand my presence here, Rajan. I am not shy, and I am certainly not yours.”
? Rajan: “I know you're not. At least, not yet.”
She held his stare without flinching, the atmosphere at the small table crackling with an electric, unspoken friction.
? Padma: “Good.”
Rajan smiled faintly, leaning forward, resting his forearms on the polished wood.
? Rajan: “That fierce pride... that’s what makes this so intensely interesting.”
Mohan leaned forward too, his knuckles white against the tabletop.
? Mohan: “Enough. Start talking.”
Rajan nodded slowly, his playful demeanor shifting into something darker, more calculated. He took his smartphone and placed it face down right in the center of the table.
? Rajan: “All right. Tonight, I’m not here to talk about Padma’s beauty, or her saree, or her boundaries.”
Padma looked surprised, her eyebrows arching slightly.
? Padma: “Then why am I sitting here?”
Rajan looked straight into her eyes, his tone dropping into a low, commanding register.
? Rajan: “Because eventually, Padma, you need to decide what you truly want to know about your marriage—and what you're too afraid to uncover.”
Padma leaned slightly forward, her initial anxiety dissolving into a sharp, burning resolve.
? Padma: “Then stop playing with words and tell me.”
Rajan’s smile broadened—a slow, victorious curve of his lips.
? Rajan: “Ask the right question first.”
Padma stared back at him, her heart hammering against her ribs as a sudden, unsettling realization struck her core.
Rajan wasn’t simply trying to seduce her physical body. He was systematically breaking into her mind—making her hyper-aware of herself, her reflection, her hidden desires, and the intoxicating reaction his undivided attention sparked within her traditional world.
And that psychological invasion was infinitely more dangerous than any touch.

[Runer]

Wonderful update. Continue the story.

[sharath841]

She took a slow, steadying breath, her chest rising against the soft dbang of her saree.
? Padma: “Why did you become interested in me, Rajan?”
Rajan’s usual smooth, dominating smile appeared.
? Rajan: “You really want to know, Padma?”
? Padma: “I asked you a direct question.”
? Rajan: “Because you were different.”
Padma let out a soft sigh, her dark eyes narrowing.
? Padma: “You’ve already said that.”
Rajan leaned back comfortably, his sharp eyes watching her every reaction with an unhurried, intense gaze.
? Rajan: “I’m talking about much earlier.”
Something in his low, quiet tone made Padma hesitate. Her pulse gave a sudden, nervous flutter.
? Padma: “Earlier?”
? Rajan: “College.”
Padma’s heart hit her ribs. She abruptly looked away, her fingers instinctively tightening around the dark, silken edge of her saree pallu.
Mohan noticed her sudden shift immediately. Playing his part, he deliberately turned to Rajan with an expression of sharp, apparent confusion.
? Mohan: “College? What on earth happened in college?”
Padma glanced at her husband, panic flaring in her chest. She hadn't expected Rajan to bring up a ghost she had tried so hard to bury.
? Padma: “It’s… nothing, Mohan.”
Rajan gave a slow, knowing little smile, leaning his forearms on the wooden table.
? Rajan: “Nothing, Padma?”
Padma’s eyes snapped back to him, her voice a hushed, desperate warning.
? Padma: “Rajan…”
? Rajan: “You remember it vividly.”
A warm, telltale flush began to spread across her cheeks, climbing up her throat to the soft skin of her neck.
? Padma: “That was years ago.”
? Rajan: “I remember every single second of it.”
Mohan kept his expression completely neutral, masterfully pretending this was the very first time he was hearing any of it.
? Mohan: “What are you two talking about? What happened?”
Padma became visibly uncomfortable, her shy, traditional nature squirming under the spotlight.
? Padma: “Mohan, please… not here…”
Rajan couldn’t resist leaning into her reaction, his tone dipped in smooth, teasing provocation.
? Rajan: “Your wife had quite a temper back then, Mohan.”
Padma lowered her eyes, staring down at her folded hands.
? Padma: “I don’t want to talk about this.”
? Rajan: “You certainly didn’t mind expressing yourself that day.”
Padma looked up sharply, her eyes flashing.
? Mohan: “What did he do, Padma?”
Padma hesitated, her throat tight. She clearly couldn’t bring herself to voice the physical detail.
Rajan answered for her, his voice dropping into a low, deliberate tone that made her skin prickle.
? Rajan: “I touched her without her permission. I reached out and touched her buttery waist…”
Padma’s face went rigid with sheer tension.
? Mohan: “You did what?”
Rajan nodded, wholly unfazed by Mohan's outburst.
? Rajan: “And she turned around and slapped me right across my face in front of the entire corridor.”
Padma immediately looked down, deeply embarrassed by the vivid memory being laid bare in public. Mohan stared at Rajan as though processing the shock for the first time.
? Mohan: “I can’t believe this…”
Padma stole a hesitant glance at her husband. Seeing the shock and hurt on his face made a heavy pang of guilt crash into her heart. She had recognized Rajan the moment he reappeared in their lives, yet she had kept that dark college chapter hidden, convincing herself it was just an unpleasant, forgotten incident from her youth.
Now, with Rajan standing over her life again and causing so much chaos in her marriage, she wondered if her secrecy had been a tragic mistake.
She lowered her eyes, her voice barely a whisper.
? Padma: “It’s just something that happened a long time ago, Mohan…”
? Rajan: “That was the first time you made me realize you weren’t afraid of me, Padma.”
? Padma: “I wasn’t supposed to be afraid of you.”
? Rajan: “Exactly.”
Padma turned her face away again, unable to meet his intense gaze. Rajan continued, his voice softer now, almost intimate.
? Rajan: “Everyone else treated me differently because of my family name and my money. You didn’t.” He paused, letting the silence stretch between them. “You rejected me.”
Padma remained dead silent, her breath coming in shallow gasps.
? Rajan: “You slapped me.” Another heavy pause. “And then you simply walked away as if I didn’t even exist.”
Padma’s dark eyes flickered back toward him.
? Rajan: “That’s what stayed with me every single night since.”
? Padma: “It should have stayed as a lesson in boundaries.”
? Rajan: “Maybe.” His dark eyes remained fixed on her flushed face. “But for me, it became an obsession. A question I couldn't answer.”
? Padma: “What question?”
Rajan smiled—a slow, dangerous curve of his lips.
? Rajan: “Why was the one woman who wanted absolutely nothing from me the only woman I couldn’t stop thinking about?”
Padma didn’t answer. Her cheeks were still burning, but this time it wasn’t embarrassment alone. It was the terrifying, intoxicating realization that an unpleasant incident she had buried years ago had become the defining fantasy that drove this dangerous man.
Mohan reached across the table and firmly took her cold hand. She squeezed it back instantly, clinging to her husband like a lifeline.
? Mohan: “So that’s why you’ve been harassing us?”
Rajan shook his head slowly.
? Rajan: “That’s just where it started.”
Padma looked up at him instantly, her brows drawing tight.
? Padma: “Started?”
Rajan smoothly stood up from the table, adjusting the cuffs of his dark shirt.
? Rajan: “You asked why I became interested in you, Padma.” He gave her one last, lingering, knowing look. “I gave you the beginning.”
Padma frowned, her chest rising as frustration surged through her.
? Padma: “And the rest of the story?”
Rajan’s enigmatic smile returned.
? Rajan: “That’s a story for another day.”
He made a subtle movement as if to step away, but neither Padma nor Mohan were satisfied with another one of his elusive mind games. Leaving like this left them suspended in total powerlessness.
Padma stood up abruptly, her dark silk saree rustling softly, her voice ringing with sharp, uncompromising authority.
? Padma: “No, Rajan! Not another day. Tell us the rest of the story today.”
Mohan rose right beside her, stepping forward to block Rajan’s path, his face rigid with anger.
? Mohan: “She’s right. You don’t get to walk away whenever it suits you. Finish what you started right now!”
Rajan paused, looking between the two of them. A slow, mocking amusement danced in his dark eyes as he observed their desperate attempt to demand control.
? Rajan: “You both talk as if you’re in a position to negotiate.” He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping into a razor-sharp whisper. “I speak when I want to speak. Today, you’ve heard enough.”
Padma glared at him, her lips trembling with suppressed rage.
? Padma: “Then we have nothing left to say to you either. We’re leaving.”
She turned on her heel without waiting for another word, taking Mohan by his arm. They walked out of the café together, trying to maintain a united, dignified front.
Yet despite their proud exit, they had failed to convince him. They were walking away empty-handed, carrying even more agonizing questions than when they arrived.
Rajan didn't move. He stood near the wide glass window, casually resting one hand in his pocket as he watched them step out into the bright street.
His eyes locked onto Padma from behind as she walked away.
The dark silk of her saree hugged her natural waist, tracing every slow, sensual curve of her hips with every step she took. The smooth, rhythmic sway of her sexy ass beneath the pleats of the saree was mesmerizing—a striking blend of traditional elegance and irresistible allure that made his mouth go dry.
A dark, deeply satisfied smirk spread across Rajan’s face.
She thought she was walking away in defiance, but he knew the truth. He had planted the seed, and as he watched her attractive figure disappear down the street, he knew it was only a matter of time before her curiosity brought her right back into his hands.

[sharath841]

Padma kept her eyes ahead as they walked, her hand wrapped around Mohan’s.
Her mind was trapped in the past. College. That corridor. Rajan.
? Mohan: “You never told me about him.”
Padma slowed her steps, looking down.
? Padma: “I didn’t think it mattered. It was an unpleasant incident—he touched me, I rejected him, I slapped him. I thought it was over.”
? Mohan: “He clearly thinks it mattered.”
? Padma: “Why would someone hold onto that for so many years?”
Mohan knew the answer—Rajan had already told him pieces of it long ago—but he kept his face completely still.
? Mohan: “Maybe because he never accepted your rejection.”
Bzzzt.
Padma’s phone vibrated. A text from Rajan.
? Rajan: You asked about the beginning. But you’re forgetting something, Padma.
Padma stopped in her tracks, her thumb hovering over the screen.
? Rajan: The slap wasn’t the end of that day. Ask yourself what happened after you walked away.
Padma stared at the glass, her heart skipping a beat. She remembered the corridor, the slap, and walking away—but was there a detail she had buried?
She locked the phone, panic quietly settling in.
? Padma: “I don’t remember.”
? Mohan: “Then don’t let him choose what you remember.”
Padma stayed silent, unsettled. She didn't know that Rajan was waiting with a memory she had forgotten—and one Mohan had secretly known about all along.
That evening, Padma couldn’t settle. She moved around the bedroom, restlessly folding clothes that were already neat.
Mohan watched her from the edge of the bed.
? Mohan: “You’re still thinking about what Rajan said.”
Padma stopped and sat beside him.
? Padma: “I can’t stop, Mohan. I remember the slap, everyone looking at me, walking away... but he insists something else happened.”
? Mohan: “Rajan lies whenever it benefits him.”
Bzzzt. Her phone lit up with consecutive messages from Rajan.
? Rajan: You really don’t remember?
? Rajan: After you slapped me, you said, “Stay away from me.”
? Rajan: And I did. For years.
Padma’s eyes narrowed. That sounded familiar.
? Padma: “He says he stayed away... for years.”
? Mohan: “Did he?”
? Padma: “I thought he did.” She looked at Mohan, guilt in her eyes. “I should have told you about him the moment I recognized him.”
Mohan’s chest tightened.
? Mohan: “You don’t have to blame yourself, Padma.”
? Padma: “I’m blaming myself for keeping secrets from you.”
Mohan reached out and took her hand, pulling her close.
While Padma looked away, a silent notification flashed on Mohan’s own phone:
? Rajan: You remember what happened after the slap, don’t you, Mohan?
Mohan froze, instantly locking his screen before she could see.
Rajan wasn’t just threatening to reveal a college memory—he was reminding Mohan that he had known about that slap, and Rajan's fixation on Padma, long before Padma ever told him.

Mohan remained completely still for several seconds after reading Rajan’s message.
He looked over at Padma. She was sitting near the window, lost in thought, completely unaware of the text glowing on his screen.
Mohan quickly locked the display, but the damage was done. Rajan didn’t just know about the college incident; he knew Mohan had secretly known about it long before Padma ever mentioned it.
Padma turned toward him, her dark eyes searching his face.
? Padma: “Mohan? You’re unusually quiet.”
Mohan forced a soft, reassuring smile.
? Mohan: “Just thinking about everything that happened today, Padma. About us.”
Her expression softened. She moved closer, resting her head gently against his shoulder.
? Padma: “I should have told you about college years ago, Mohan.”
Mohan closed his eyes, his heart heavy with guilt.
? Mohan: “Maybe...”
She lifted her head, looking into his eyes.
? Padma: “You aren’t angry with me?”
? Mohan: “Not with you, Padma. Never with you.”
Padma looked relieved, taking a soft breath. But then a quiet thought crossed her mind.
? Padma: “When you heard him bring up college today at the café... you looked genuinely shocked.”
Mohan’s stomach dropped.
? Mohan: “Hearing him say those things right in front of you was just... different.”
Padma accepted the answer, though she still looked troubled.
? Padma: “He spoke as if he’s carried that single day for years. Why couldn’t he just forget me?”
Mohan gently squeezed her hand.
? Mohan: “Some men don’t know how to let go when they don’t get what they want.”
Bzzzt.
Mohan’s phone vibrated in his palm. Padma noticed instantly.
? Padma: “Who is that? Rajan?”
Mohan hesitated before nodding.
? Padma: “What does he want now?”
? Mohan: “I don’t know...”
It was the first real lie he had told her tonight. Padma caught the brief hesitation in his voice, her brows drawing together.
Mohan unlocked his phone to read the notification:
? Rajan: Don’t make me tell her how you first learned about her, Mohan.
Mohan froze. His skin went cold.
Padma watched his face drain of color.
? Padma: “Mohan… what did he write to you?”
He stared at her, unable to speak. The sheer fear in his eyes made Padma’s expression shift from curiosity to deep dread.
? Padma: “Why are you looking at me like that?”
Mohan slowly set the phone face-down on the bed.
? Mohan: “Padma… there is something I need to tell you.”
Padma’s posture went rigid.
? Padma: “What is it?”
Mohan took a deep, shaky breath to confess, but before the words could leave his mouth, his phone screen flashed one last time:
? Rajan: Tell her yourself, Mohan. Or I will.
Padma stared at Mohan’s trembling hands, and in that terrifying silence, she realized one chilling truth:
Whatever Rajan knew about her past, her husband had been keeping it a secret, too.

[sharath841]

Padma stared at Mohan, the air in the bedroom growing thick and heavy.
? Padma: “What does Rajan know about you, Mohan?”
Mohan looked down, unable to escape the weight of her gaze.
? Mohan: “I need to explain something, Padma... Before today, Rajan had already told me about that college incident.”
Padma’s face went pale.
? Padma: “What?”
? Mohan: “He told me about your college days. About you rejecting him. About the slap.”
She stared at him, completely stunned.
? Padma: “Then why did you pretend to be surprised at the café today?”
? Mohan: “Because I was terrified you’d think I was discussing your past with him behind your back.”
Padma stood up slowly, stepping back.
? Padma: “So when you asked, ‘What happened in college?’...”
? Mohan: “I already knew.”
Pain crossed her face, far deeper than any anger.
? Padma: “Why didn’t you just tell me the truth?”
? Mohan: “Because I was afraid... afraid you’d ask how much Rajan and I had actually talked about you.”
A sharp silence fell between them. Padma’s expression became guarded.
? Padma: “How much, Mohan?”
Mohan didn’t answer right away. His hesitation was an answer in itself.
? Padma: “What does that mean?”
Bzzzt.
Mohan’s phone vibrated on the mattress. Before he could react, Padma reached down and picked it up.
? Mohan: “Padma, please don’t—”
She ignored him, her eyes locking onto the glowing screen.
? Rajan: Now you know he knew.
? Rajan: But he still hasn’t told you everything.
Padma slowly looked up from the glass, her dark eyes filled with a quiet, breaking vulnerability.
? Padma: “What else is there? Please... don’t make me hear another secret from him.”
Her soft plea hit Mohan harder than any outburst. He stepped closer, his hands trembling.
? Mohan: “Padma, whatever Rajan says, remember one thing—he uses truth and lies to manipulate people.”
Padma held the phone between them like a shield.
? Padma: “Then tell me your version right now, before he gets the chance.”
Mohan took a deep, shuddering breath and nodded slowly. He sat down on the edge of the bed, burying his face in his hands for a brief second before looking up at her.
? Mohan: “Okay. I’ll tell you everything.”
Padma sat down directly opposite him, her conservative saree tucked tightly around her, her spine straight.
For the first time, Rajan wasn't in the room. There were no incoming messages, no evasive answers—only the truth Mohan had been running from, ready to shatter the last remaining illusion of their marriage.

[sharath841]

Padma: “Start from the very beginning, Mohan. No hiding.”
Mohan took a deep, ragged breath, refusing to look away this time.
? Mohan: “Rajan contacted me long before you ever knew he was involved in our lives, Padma.”
Padma’s brows drew together, a flicker of confusion crossing her face.
? Padma: “Why would he contact you? What reason did he have?”
Mohan hesitated, his throat dry, his cheeks burning with shame.
? Mohan: “Because… he knew about my dark thoughts. He knew about my fantasies.”
The air left Padma’s chest. The soft, exposed skin of her neck flushed a warm, embarrassed red under the dim lamp light.
? Mohan: “He somehow found out that I had those weak, foolish thoughts about other men noticing you… admiring how beautiful my wife is.”
Padma lowered her gaze, staring down at her lap, her fingers clutching the dbang of her saree pallu tight against her chest.
? Padma: “So that’s how he knew… that’s how he targeted us?”
? Mohan: “Yes.”
? Padma: “And you actually spoke to him about me? Behind my back?”
Mohan nodded reluctantly, every word painful to utter.
? Mohan: “I spoke to him. I shared details… thoughts I should have kept locked inside me. I didn’t realize he was feeding off it, using it as leverage to dismantle us.”
Padma remained dead silent for a long moment, her heart hammering against her ribs.
? Padma: “You should have told me the moment he approached you, Mohan.”
? Mohan: “I was deeply ashamed, Padma. Ashamed of my own weakness.”
She looked up, her dark eyes laced with a quiet, alluring sorrow mixed with firm resolve.
? Padma: “Being ashamed doesn’t make a secret disappear. It only gives men like Rajan room to breathe.”
Mohan lowered his head.
? Mohan: “I know.”
Bzzzt.
The sudden vibration against the nightstand made them both freeze. Padma reached out, her dark, elegant fingers picking up the phone.
A message from Rajan.
? Rajan (Message): “Now you’re finally hearing his side of the story.”
A second text flashed immediately beneath the first.
? Rajan (Message): “But ask him how we first met, Padma. Ask your husband where it really began.”
Padma slowly raised her head, her gaze piercing through Mohan.
? Padma: “How did you and Rajan actually meet for the very first time?”
Mohan went rigid. The color drained completely from his face. He had known this question was an inevitable trap waiting to snap shut.
? Mohan: “That’s… complicated, Padma.”
? Padma: “Mohan, please,” her voice dropped to a soft, breathy whisper, laced with desperate pleading. “No more half-truths between us.”
He closed his eyes, nodding slowly.
? Mohan: “He found out about the private apartment group first. That’s what brought us into the same space.”
Padma stared at him, her lips parting slightly.
? Padma: “And after that?”
Mohan hesitated, swallowing hard.
? Mohan: “After that… he started asking deeply personal questions about you.”
Padma’s expression hardened into pure, cold ice, a shiver running down her spine.
? Padma: “What kind of questions, Mohan?”
Mohan couldn’t answer. The silence stretched between them, heavy and damning.
And in that agonizing pause, a terrifying truth washed over Padma. Rajan hadn’t just randomly reappeared to haunt her past. He had been quietly studying her, feeding on her husband’s vulnerabilities, and carving his way into her traditional, private world long before she ever realized she was being watched.

[sharath841]

Mohan could see that she wasn’t going to let the subject go.
Padma sat opposite him, her dark silk saree clinging to her waist, her posture rigid yet captivating in the dim glow of the bedroom lamp. The sheer vulnerability on her face only heightened the delicate, seductive tension between them.
? Padma: “What did Rajan ask you about me, Mohan? Tell me every word.”
Mohan rubbed his palms together nervously, the guilt making his chest heave.
? Mohan: “At first, ordinary things... how long we’d been married, where we lived, how quiet and innocent you were. But then... his questions changed.”
Padma’s eyebrows tightened, her lips parting slightly.
? Padma: “Changed how?”
? Mohan: “He started feeding my darkest fantasies, Padma. He asked about your modesty... how you dress, how shy you are in bed, how soft your skin is under your saree. And because I was weak, I answered him.”
He once asked (Rajan)what your wife doing ? 
Mohan : she sleeping on bed . 
Rajan : what position? 
Mohan : inverted , 
Rajan: So her big bum is facing the sky and talking to fan.  can you see her bum crack … how it would be aaahhh want to smell that bum and lick that ? …
A hot flush of sheer embarrassment rushed up Padma’s neck, burning against her cheeks. Her fingers clutched the fabric over her chest, shocked by the intimate violation.
? Padma: “You... you discussed such dirty about my body with him?” she whispered, her voice trembling with a mixture of betrayal and undeniable, electric heat.
? Mohan: “I did. He made it sound like an art... admiring your beauty. He told me a woman like you—so pure, so traditional—was a rare treasure. He started describing how he envisioned taking off your saree, how he wanted to make you squirm under his touch and strip away your clothes by kissing for each cloth and you  ?  shy and closing your face by both hands and and… 
Padma’s breath caught in her throat. She lost control and asked Padma : And… what tell me fully .

? Mohan: He want to fuck your pussy with his big dick and what to hear your screams and moans ..“ He encouraged me to share private photos of you, to describe your reactions when I touched you. He knew exactly how to make me feel like I was sharing a secret masterpiece with him.”
Padma looked away, her chest rising and falling rapidly under the tight dbang of her pallu. The thought of Rajan holding her husband’s phone, reading detailed descriptions of her body and her modest intimacy, sent an intoxicating, terrifying shiver straight down her spine.
Bzzzt.
Her phone vibrated in her lap. With trembling, warm fingers, she picked it up.
? Rajan (Message): “Ask him what I asked him to do while I ram you ?
Padma’s eyes widened as she read the glowing words. Her cheeks burned with a deep, sensual heat. She slowly raised her dark eyes toward Mohan, her voice dropping into a raspy, intense whisper.
? Padma: “He says... (keeping her head down with shy and anger) while he doing that to me you know that thing..what he asked you to do ?
Mohan couldn't meet her gaze, his head hanging low.
? Mohan: “No plz enough .. 
Padma : Tell me next 
Mohan : He wanted me to watch how he do to you and mean while I should be shagging holding the dick enjoying Your sex ..

Padma: Our sex …! She shrugged and stared at her husband, realizing with terrifying clarity that long before Rajan ever stepped back into her physical world

[Honeyhot]

Mom aur Behan Ko apni randiyon Bana 

[Runer]

Next update

[sharath841]

After the difficult conversation, they had something simple for dinner and went to bed without discussing Rajan anymore.
Padma had changed into her usual homely nightwear—a soft cotton T-shirt and comfortable pajama bottoms, her long dark hair casually tied back. Stripped of the saree, jewellery, and careful appearance she maintained for the outside world, she looked entirely like herself again: quiet, vulnerable, and intimately familiar.
But inside, her blood was running hot and restless.
She lay beside Mohan under the light bedsheet, shifting restlessly against the mattress. The heavy confessions from earlier kept burning in her mind—the secret desires Mohan had carried, the dangerous intensity of Rajan’s obsession, and the unsettling realization that hearing those forbidden details had sparked a confusing, electric friction deep within her.
Mohan noticed the uneven rhythm of her breath beside him.
? Mohan: “Padma… you’re still awake?”
She turned her head on the pillow, her dark eyes reflecting the dim room.
? Padma: “I can’t sleep, Mohan.”
He shifted closer, his body radiating heat, though he hesitated to touch her.
? Mohan: “Are you still angry with me?”
She looked at him, her chest rising and falling beneath her loose top.
? Padma: “I’m confused… about everything.”
Mohan looked at her for a long moment. Then, overcome by the emotion of the night, he gently pulled her closer.
While kissing him, the echo of Rajan’s crude words suddenly flashed through her mind like a sudden, sickening jolt.

The vivid imagery of those secret chats—the way Rajan had spoken about her body, her modesty, and the intimate details Mohan had shared like now she felt flooded her thoughts, completely shattering the quiet warmth of the moment.
The touch against her lips transformed in an instant. For one terrifying beat, the dark bedroom seemed to blur, and the hands resting at her waist no longer felt like her husband’s familiar, hesitant touch.

It felt as though Rajan ( Rajan touched her earlier there )likehimself were holding her, pinning her beneath his heavy, possessive gaze.
Padma gasped, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird.
Padma: “No! Get off me!”
Mohan : What happened?!!
[b]Padma: “For a moment… it felt like Rajan was the one kissing me. I don’t want to feel that way. Please… leave it.”
Suddenly Mohan slipped his hand inside her pyjama and inside her inner’s on her Loveline which was sharp trimmed … There he felt like someone rubbed  camel gum … she was putting her hand on his wrist and pushing back and she was wobbling , Then he goes little inside the orang fruit she give a gasp and finger went in it was very well lubricated… she closed her eyes and had her hand on his wrist .. he got to know how she was tempted by his confession over Rajan … she was embarrassed and she want to push but no energy no oppose .. Her breathing got rapid .. he was fingering her and started kissing her neck she slowly hugged him… after 5 minute he asked her [/b]
Mohan: Are you ok or shall I stop ? 
She has no words… she was continuously getting Rajan thoughts and she was feeling him in her mind 
Mohan asked repeatedly but there was no response from her… 
Bzzzzzz A msg beaped She got conscious she pushed him and lifer her pyjama as if she is opposing .. 
Mohan : What happened again..? 
Her hand went to phone .. he was observing 
(Rajan in text : How is going on..? 
She felt confused and is he reading my mind .. 
Mohan : what he texted ? 
She : he is asking how is going on .. is he watching us ? 
He : He is playing forget him … take him oustide your head
She got again on bed, after 30 seconds he again put his hand on her pyjama this looked at him and she lifted her ass to help him , he slipped his hand inside and started finger works and his kissing and she slowly started responding and she was feeling like Rajan holding her kissing her and fingering her … 
Mohan : Sorry dear .. It was me who hurted your feelings… 
She was listening and after few seconds he asked her on purpose 
Mohan : He put another hand on her stomach.. Am also not liking him dear … he said he want to put his hand on your buttery waist … Mohan started kneading her thin fat layered smooth stomach .. upon hearing the fantasy and talks she aroused even more and then … Mohan removed his hand she was displeased and looked at him like what happened? 
Mohan removed her pyjama and panty  completely in a one go .. her thighs knee shine everything was shining in light … then he widened her heavy legs she was submitted .. 
Mohan become n..de and put his Pistol on the mouth I mean on loveline and she gasped and shivered and he slowly started roaming the gun … she was so anxious and his slowly and steadily pressurised the gun that went in easily she give a ahhh light moan … he placed his lip on her and started slow action… 
Mohan : That bastard wanted my pure beauty , my sacred wife 
Padma: Yea he s a bastard … a dirty man… bloody looser.
Mohan : Lov you.. 
Padma : Lov u so much 
Both enjoying 
Mohan : How bad and dirty… 
Padma: what ?
Mohan : How badly he wanted to … 
Padma : what ? 
Mohan : How badly he wanted to have you (he said it like descently ..)
Padma : Yes very dirty …but she is slowly getting Rajan thoughts 
Mohan : How badly he wanted put his big dick inside your pussy … 
Padma: She wanted open her eyes and wanted to stop but her mouth didn’t open … instead she slowly said Mohan… no.. 
Mohan : yes dear but he wanted to fuck you roughly … like hard shots… and started giving hard shots 
This time Padma aroused like anything she hugged him tightly and put her legs around his waist .. 
Padma : Haaammm…why do he want to do it .. 
Mohan : Bcs your a sacred beauty insulted him .. 
Padma: Am I that sacred?
Mohan: Yes dear my sacred beautiful wife …
He wanted to fuck you like this and like a pornstar and started ramming her with speed 
Padma started scratching his Back with her brown coloured long nails . And she started lifting her hips 
Padma: Pornstar..!! 
Mohan : Even he wanted to be a porn star Jony sins for you and changing the poses and he wanted you to lick his cum..
Padma: Chi chi I can’t do that that’s dirty ( she as if telling she can do rest all things other than licking the cum )
Mohan lifted her t shirt and br. and saw her bossom fruits and he started eating it and 
Mohan : He wanted to fuck you like bitch on heat and as a looser I have to shag …  
Upon hearing his humiliation she lost control and she cummed … her loveline become well I mean it got loose ..
Mohan never felt this loose in his marriage tenure.. she bucked her hips and put her hands on his bums and started pressing him and started asking harder… harder…Raj..  haaammmm and loosened her hold on him.. she was caught 
Later he also came both lying sidewise she was ashamed of herself… and turned other way . both never felt this feeling this much satisfaction.. 
Mohan also felt good for his fantasy but still shocked and confirmed that she was physically under me but mentally under Rajan… 
Phone bzzzz 
Rajan text : Did you enjoy .. ? 
She got frightened 
Rajan text: This bastard will even harder like real John Sin 
Padma : Shouted No…. He is somewhere here only 
Mohan : what happened? And watched the message he got frightened 
Mohan phone buzzzz 
Rajan text : So you are on the fantasy … tell her she will cumm multiple times … 
She what he texted you ..? 
He showed the msg .. she got to know something is fishy .. 
Padma held the phone tightly, her face drained of colour, while the same question kept circling through her mind: [b]How could Rajan know? Mohan read the message again and locked the phone. “We need to find out what is happening,” he said quietly. Padma nodded, but her eyes remained fixed on the screen. Somewhere beyond their closed bedroom door, the night was completely silent—yet for the first time, both of them felt as though someone else was watching.
[/b]

[sharath841]

Wonderful update. Continue the story.

Hey.. I was trying to send messages you have made it unable so you only message me.

[sharath841]

After the frightening messages, they sat quietly for a few minutes.
? Mohan: “Let’s not think about this tonight. We’ll deal with it tomorrow.”
? Padma: “Hmm…”
Mohan checked his phone once more, closed his laptop, and kept it aside and thinking She took Rajan name at the end…
Neither of them said anything more.
Padma turned off the light, and they quietly went to bed.
The apartment slowly fell silent.
Within minutes, both were asleep.
The next morning…
Mohan got ready for the office, had breakfast, picked up his laptop bag, and left.
Padma watched him leave before returning inside.
Neither of them knew that the answer to Rajan’s disturbing knowledge was already sitting somewhere in their own home.
After Mohan left, Padma took a long shower, letting the warm water wash over her tired body.
She came out wrapped in a towel, her damp dark hair falling over her shoulders, and stood silently in front of the mirror, staring at her own reflection.
One question kept returning, heavier with every passing second: How did Rajan know?
The messages from the previous night wouldn’t leave her mind, nor could she shake the unsettling realization that things spoken in the absolute privacy of their bedroom were somehow known to him.
She lowered her eyes, a deeper, more personal memory surfacing—Mohan. His shaky confessions, the admission that he had discussed her with another man, and the intimate details he had allowed Rajan to weave into his fantasies. Her cheeks grew warm with shame.
? Padma: “How could he talk about me like that…?”
She covered her face for a moment. Then came the memory she found even harder to face—the previous night, the words Mohan had repeated, words she had first heard from Rajan. And worst of all, her own intense, confusing reaction.
She turned away from the mirror.
? Padma: “Chi… why did I become so confused?”
The most embarrassing part wasn’t simply what Mohan had confessed; it was that, for a few terrifying seconds, Rajan’s name had slipped from her own mouth.
Later that afternoon, after lunch, Padma walked slowly along the corridor outside their apartment. She returned home, closed the door behind her, and leaned against it in the quiet hall.
Her mind drifted back to those strange, forbidden descriptions. Why did Rajan want to imagine her that way? She remembered Mohan mentioning the word “pornstar.”
Padma frowned.
? Padma: “Pornstar… chi.”
Then she remembered another name Mohan had blurted out during his rambling.
“Johnny…”
She stood still, trying to remember. Johnny something… She couldn’t recall the full name, and the thought made her shake her head in sheer embarrassment.
? Padma: “Why am I even remembering this?”
And she started googling who is pornstar Johnny ?
There she finds a name Johnny sins ., Padma : Is he the one Johnny sins she utters slowly … checks his wiki there she confirms , then  starts watching his pic , His fair skin his bald head in blue T-shirt ..
Padma thinks what’s the deal in it .. then she closer the phone after that she goes to kitchen does some chores then her mind was ringing with last night episode Johnny sins does to pornstar.. then she thinks what he does to pornstar ..? And that a pornstar is that popular .. if these men talk so randomly about him he might have made lot of videos … wats so special about him .. she got curious and slowly she starts googling Johnny sins videos .. she finds a page opens it that shows lot of  videos  she started sweating .. she was confused which one to open she opens it … she got frightened not bcz of video!!! Sudden screaming of an woman  she was confused just closed it and then she got even curious she again googled Johnny sins popular video
She opens ;'., and clicking confirming that 18 years of old then a first video had a line : Deep pumped cooter of nasty ,
She opened it , showing big guy looking like him baldy drinking beer a big b_obed girl was talking then it goes to main thing Johnny came to action he started screwing and Padma got hot and closed and she felt what is there in it.. these are fictional clips why should I be curious..

[sharath841]

Padma stared at the search result for a few seconds.
? Padma: “Johnny Sins… Is this the name he meant?”
She opened the information page and looked at the photograph.
She studied his face for a moment—the bald head, the familiar appearance—and then quickly locked her phone.
? Padma: “Chi… why am I even doing this?”
She put the phone aside and went into the kitchen.
But the name wouldn’t leave her mind.
While doing the dishes, she found herself remembering Mohan’s words from the previous night.
Pornstar.
Johnny…
She frowned.
? Padma: “What is so special about this man?”
Her curiosity won.
She picked up her phone again and searched for more information. The results showed that he was a well-known adult-film performer with a huge amount of online material.
Padma’s eyes widened.
? Padma: “So many…?”
She immediately backed out.
For a moment she simply stood there, phone in hand, embarrassed by her own curiosity.
She wasn’t even sure what she had expected to find.
She had only wanted to understand the strange name Mohan had mentioned—and perhaps understand why Rajan had brought him into their conversation.
But now another uncomfortable thought entered her mind.
Was this what those two men had been talking about when they used that name?
She shook her head firmly.
? Padma: “Enough. I don’t need to know.”
She put the phone down.
Yet several minutes later, her eyes drifted toward it again.
The curiosity hadn’t disappeared.

She opens a site.
ON SCREEN
A beautiful foreign model, completely nude. A large, bulky man, also nude. They are already pressed together, kissing wet and deep. Dirty talk between them — low, filthy, close to the mic.
PADMA
(whisper, staring)
…god.
ON SCREEN
He drops his head. His tongue finds her. Long, slow licks along her. The model’s back arches. She screams — high, broken, not acting.
PADMA’S FACE
Eyes wide. Lips parted. She swallows.
ON SCREEN
The model looks down at him. Sees the size of him, the chest, the thickness of his arms.
Padma : How bulky and massive he is .. how big his thing is.. Double the size of Mohan !! Does a real man possess this much size … Then how does it goes inside of any woman !! 
Screen : model 
Model started jumping on him putting the thing in !! Screaming 
Padma : What !!! How come that go such easily!!! 
Johny : Shouting like a beast come on !!
Model : she was moaning like she is singing 
NEW ANGLE

He has her on her back now. One of her legs hooked over his shoulder. He drives into her hard. The sound is wet and heavy — gach gach gach — slapping, skin, breath.

The model’s moans turn into that singing sound again. She is gone.

PADMA

(watching, voice small)

…it’s a new world.

Her hand slides down. Over her pants. She presses her crotch, rubbing slowly through the fabric. She is already wet. She keeps watching.

ON SCREEN

He pulls out at the last second. Thick ropes of cum hit the model’s face. She stays still, mouth open, taking it.

PADMA

freezes.

She puts the phone down on the bed. Raises her own hand to her face. Rubs her cheek and mouth slowly, as if wiping the same thing off herself. Eyes half-closed.

Then she picks the phone up again. Closes the site.

Opens another folder. Johny’s pictures.

Close-ups. His nude body. The lines of his chest and stomach. The bald head. Those blue eyes looking straight at the camera.

PADMA

(barely breathing)

…those eyes.

She stares. Chest rising faster. She can’t look away.

Finally she locks the phone. Places it face-down.
She gets off the bed and walks to the bathroom. Door closes. She standing in the bathroom .Padma stands in front of the mirror. Heavy breathing. Chest rising fast. She doesn’t know what to do with her hands.

She hooks her thumbs into the waistband. Drags her pants and panty down together — only to her knees. The fabric bunches there.

She turns, sits on the commode basin. Legs slightly open. She leans forward a little, looking down at herself. Peeping. Watching.

PADMA

(whisper)

…what am I doing…

Her right hand goes between her legs. One finger finds her. She is already wet. She starts moving it slowly.

She closes her eyes.

FLASH — MEMORY

Johnny’s nude body. Bald head. Those blue eyes looking at her.

PADMA

(breathing out)

Johnny…

The finger moves a little faster.

FLASH — RAJAN
Rajan’s face close. His hands on her. The same way the man in the video held the model. One of her legs over his shoulder. Hard. That gach gach sound in her head.
She suddenly got conscious and got up and washed her P and washed her face and went to bed for a Nap!!!
Johnny is on top of her. Bald head. Blue eyes locked on her face. One of her legs over his shoulder. He is inside her, driving hard. Wet slapping sound — gach gach gach.

PADMA

(moaning, almost singing)

Johnny pulls out at the last second. He strokes himself over her face.

JOHNNY

Open. Look at me. Take it on that pretty face.

PADMA

(moaning, eyes half-open)

He comes. Thick ropes hit her cheeks, mouth, forehead. She stays still, lips parted, taking it.
Padma’s eyes open suddenly.

She sits up fast. Frown on her face. Breathing sharp. Fear in her eyes — like she just came back from something she should not have seen, or should not have wanted.

She looks at her hand. It is on her cheek. She pulls it away as if it burned.

Looks at the phone on the bed. Does not touch it.

PADMA

(whisper, scared)

…what was that…

She wipes her face with her palm, hard. Then both hands. Like she is still trying to get something off her skin.

She sits on the edge of the bed. Pants still on. Head down. Shoulders tight.
Silence. She walks to bathroom with disbelief 

Padma stands under the shower. Water hot. She washes her face first, then her body, longer than usual between her legs. Eyes open. Still frowning a little.

She does not close her eyes. She does not let the dream come back.

She turns the water off. Dries quickly. Gets dressed.

INT. KITCHEN 

She makes coffee. One cup. Sits at the small table. Phone is in the other room. She left it there on purpose.

She drinks slowly. Hands around the mug. Staring at nothing.

The house is quiet.

She keeps looking toward the door.

PADMA

(soft, to herself)

Mohan will be home soon…

She takes another sip. Waits.

She does not check the phone. She does not go back to the bedroom.
She just sits there with the coffee, waiting for her husband.

[sharath841]

Mohan stepped inside, placing his laptop bag near the sofa.
? Mohan: “Hey… you seem unusually quiet.”
Padma offered a faint smile, trying to hide the tangled thoughts that had occupied her all afternoon.
? Padma: “Nothing. Just a bit tired.”
He stepped closer, studying her face.
? Mohan: “Did you get any sleep?”
She hesitated for a split second.
? Padma: “A little.”
She turned toward the kitchen before he could notice the warm flush rising on her cheeks. Mohan followed her with a curious smile.
? Mohan: “You look like you’ve been thinking about something all day.”
Padma glanced back over her shoulder.
? Padma: “Maybe I have.”
There was a subtle, unexpected softness in her voice that hadn’t been there that morning. Mohan noticed the shift, but chose not to push.
They settled into their usual evening routine, talking about ordinary things—his workday, dinner, and routine household chores. Yet, every so often, Padma caught herself stealing glances at him. The unsettling afternoon dream, fused with the remnants of last night's confessions, lingered heavily at the back of her mind.
After changing into comfortable clothes, Mohan came into the living room where Padma had prepared two cups of tea.
? Mohan: “So, how was your afternoon really?”
Padma handed him his cup.
? Padma: “Quiet. I rested for a while.”
He smiled, taking a warm sip.
? Mohan: “You really needed it.”
She sat beside him on the sofa, trying to keep her posture casual. But the memory of her afternoon dream kept her unusually self-conscious.
Mohan caught her staring off into space.
? Mohan: “There’s definitely something on your mind.”
Padma looked at him, then let out a faint, embarrassed laugh.
? Padma: “Nothing important. Just a strange dream.”
? Mohan: “A strange dream? About what?”
She immediately looked away, her eyes fixing on her teacup.
? Padma: “Forget it, Mohan.”
Mohan laughed softly, leaning in a little closer.
? Mohan: “Now you’ve made me curious.”
Padma shook her head firmly.
? Padma: “No. I’m definitely not telling you.”
She stood up quickly and took her cup toward the kitchen counter, pretending to focus on dinner prep. Inside, her thoughts were spinning: Why is that foolish dream still affecting me like this? She took a slow, deep breath, forcing herself to push the lingering images away. Tonight, she resolved, she would simply be Mohan’s wife. Nothing more.

The rest of the evening passed quietly. They ate dinner together, and for a short while, the suffocating tension of the past few days seemed to fade.
While clearing the table, Mohan looked at her teasingly.
? Mohan: “You’ve still barely said ten words tonight.”
? Padma: “I told you, I’m just tired.”
? Mohan: “Or maybe that mysterious dream was far more interesting than you’re letting on.”
Padma shot him an embarrassed, mock-stern look.
? Padma: “Mohan! I already told you—it was nothing!”
He chuckled and held up his hands in surrender.
? Mohan: “Okay, okay. I won’t ask.”
Padma smiled despite herself, feeling a brief, comforting flicker of normalcy return between them.
Then, her phone vibrated sharply on the wooden dining table.
Her smile vanished.
Padma glanced down at the screen.
? Rajan: “Hope you had an interesting afternoon.”
Padma stared at the text, a cold knot tightening in her stomach. She didn't understand what he meant—was he referencing her dream, or was he just playing another psychological mind game?
She quickly locked the screen and turned the phone face down.
Mohan saw the color drain from her face.
? Mohan: “Was that Rajan?”
Padma nodded slowly.
? Padma: “Yes.”
A heavy, suffocating silence fell over the room once again. The fragile peace was instantly shattered, replaced by the same dread that had haunted them the night before. But this time, beneath the fear, a new and sharper question began to form in Padma’s mind: How much of this is Rajan watching us... and how much of it is my own mind giving him power?

Padma kept the phone face down on the wooden table, her knuckles white against the dark glass.
Mohan’s eyes narrowed as he leaned across the sofa, his voice dropping into a tense, hushed murmur.
? Mohan: “Wait. Why would he say afternoon?”
Padma avoided his gaze, her chest rising and falling beneath her loose cotton top as her skin flushed with a sudden, restless warmth.
? Padma: “I don’t know, Mohan. Maybe he’s just throwing out words to scare us.”
? Mohan: “Padma… did you talk to him today while I was at the office?”
? Padma: “No!”
? Mohan: “Did you text him? Did he call you?”
She shook her head, her long dark hair swaying loose against her shoulders.
? Padma: “No, Mohan! I didn’t touch my phone all afternoon. Nothing happened!”
Mohan’s gaze lingered on her, tracing the sudden, flustered tightness in her posture. He wasn't convinced. The faint softness she had shown earlier—the quiet, self-conscious smile she had worn when talking about her "strange dream"—suddenly took on a far darker, more provocative weight in his mind.
? Mohan: “Then why that specific word, Padma? Why afternoon?”
Padma turned her face away, a sharp edge of defensiveness rising in her voice to mask the heat burning in her cheeks.
? Padma: “I don’t know! He’s playing mind games! Don’t turn every single word into some dirty mystery!”
Mohan fell silent, the tension between them growing thick, electric, and heavy with unspoken suspicion.
Bzzzz.
The sudden vibration of the phone on the table felt like a physical shock. Both of them froze, their eyes locking onto the glowing screen.
Slowly, with a trembling hand, Padma picked it up.
? Rajan: “You don’t have to tell Mohan everything, Padma. Some thoughts and dreams are better kept with you only like Sati Savitri .”
The breath caught in Padma’s throat. A wave of cold prickles washed over her skin, immediately followed by an intense, humiliating heat that pooled deep in her chest.
Mohan leaned over her shoulder, his eyes scanning the glowing text. His jaw tightened as he looked directly into her wide, panicked eyes.
? Mohan: “What thoughts, Padma? What is he talking about?”
Padma couldn't speak. In that suffocating second, the vivid, forbidden images of her afternoon dream—the lingering echoes of Rajan’s voice, the crude fantasies Mohan had confessed, and the shameful way her own body had responded—flooded her mind all at once.
She slammed the phone face down, clutching it tight against her chest as if trying to physically lock her secrets inside.
? Padma: “I… I don’t know what he’s talking about, Mohan. He’s lying!”
Mohan stared at her, his expression a turbulent mix of hurt, jealousy, and burning curiosity. For the first time, he didn't believe her denial. He could see the guilt written in the curve of her throat, the rapid pulse at her collarbone, and the undeniable flush of a woman caught in a secret thought.
And as the quiet of the room settled over them, a far more terrifying, intoxicating question took root in the dark:

How could Rajan possibly know what Padma had been thinking about that afternoon?

Mohan: “Padma… think carefully. Did anything happen this afternoon that you haven’t told me?”
Padma’s face became tense.
? Padma: “No. I was at home. I had lunch, did some work, and took a nap. That’s all.”
She deliberately left out the dream and her private curiosity, not because she wanted to deceive him, but because she felt too embarrassed to explain it.
Mohan noticed her hesitation.
? Mohan: “You’re hiding something.”
? Padma: “I’m not hiding anything important.”
Before he could respond, his own phone vibrated.
He picked it up.
A message from Rajan.
? Rajan: “Mohan, don’t ask her questions she isn’t ready to answer.”
Mohan’s expression hardened.
He immediately looked at Padma.
? Mohan: “He’s doing this deliberately.”
Padma swallowed.
? Padma: “Maybe he just wants us to fight.”

Padma’s phone vibrated again, the sharp buzz slicing through the heavy air of the living room.
She looked down at the screen.
? Rajan: “Don’t worry, Padma. I won’t tell Mohan what you were curious about today.”
The color drained from her face instantly. Her heart leaped into her throat, sending a sudden, prickling wave of heat straight to her cheeks.
Before she could press the power button to lock the screen, Mohan’s hand reached out, swift and firm, pulling the phone right out of her trembling fingers.
? Padma: “Mohan… wait—”
He ignored her plea, his eyes scanning the new message. His jaw tightened as he looked up, his gaze locking onto her flushed face.
? Mohan: “What was he talking about, Padma? What were you curious about?”
Padma lowered her eyes, unable to meet the burning intensity in his gaze. Her silence was a quiet confession in itself.
Without a word, Mohan tapped the browser icon on her phone and pulled up the recent search history. His thumb scrolled slowly down the screen.
Suddenly, his thumb froze.
The silence between them stretched paper-thin, heavy with an electric, suffocating tension. The color shifted in Mohan’s face as he stared at the exact words listed in her private search logs—the explicit adult search terms, the names of famous porn stars, and the crude, forbidden phrases he had confessed to her the night before.
He slowly looked up at his wife. The traditional, shy, soft-spoken woman sitting beside him was sitting with her shoulders curled inward, her hands tucked tightly in her lap, her whole body radiating a deep, helpless embarrassment.
? Mohan: “Padma… you searched for all this?”
Her chest rose and fell in a fast, shallow rhythm beneath her cotton top. She gave a single, tiny nod.
? Padma: “Yes…”
There was no anger or defiance in her voice—only the quiet, burning shame of being exposed.
Mohan sat completely still for a moment, his mind churning as he tried to reconcile the modest woman he knew with the forbidden curiosity now sitting open on the screen between them.
? Mohan: “Why didn’t you just tell me?”
Padma finally raised her eyes, her dark gaze wide and glossy with unshed tears.
? Padma: “Because I was embarrassed, Mohan… I’ve never looked up things like that in my life.”
She looked down again, her fingers twisting the fabric of her casual trousers.
Padma remained silent for a long beat, her breath coming in soft, uneven hitches. Then, she hesitantly looked back at him, her voice barely above a whisper.
? Padma: “There was… something else.”
? Mohan: “What else?”
She tucked a strand of dark hair behind her ear, her neck flushed dark with warmth.
? Padma: “I had a dream this afternoon.”
Mohan stared at her, slightly puzzled.
? Mohan: “A dream?”
She nodded, her voice tight with humiliation.
? Padma: “After I searched those things… I fell asleep. I dreamed about… about him. Not really him, maybe. My mind was just mixing up everything you told me, everything I read, and… him.”
Mohan listened, but he didn't take the dream seriously. To him, dreams were just random firings of a tired brain.
? Mohan: “Padma, a dream isn’t something Rajan could possibly know. You didn’t tell anyone about it.”
? Padma: “I know,” she whispered, her hands trembling slightly. “That’s why I’m frightened. How did he send that message right after I woke up?”
Mohan sat back on the sofa, his brow furrowed deeply as a cold realization began to take shape in his head.
? Mohan: “Maybe he isn't reading your mind, Padma. Maybe he’s getting information from somewhere else.”
? Padma: “What do you mean?”
? Mohan: “I don’t know yet… I’m just thinking of the possibilities.”
Eventually, unable to find an answer in the dark, they switched off the living room lights and went to bed.
While Padma lay under the sheet, turning restlessly and wondering how Rajan could somehow sense her innermost thoughts, Mohan lay awake beside her in the dark. He stared up at the shadowy ceiling, his mind locked on one terrifying, undeniable possibility:
What if Rajan hadn't read her mind at all... but had full, real-time access to her phone's search logs, browser data, and screen history?

[couples2k9]

Pls update really eager to waiting...whar a narration superb ...

[sharath841]

Thank you