28-01-2022, 10:22 PM
The mention of her family was very purposeful. He had gauged her well enough to know that if he just asked her for her number saying the two of them should meet, she might refuse. But putting that request in the context of her main passions - art and her family - would make it easier.
"Oh sure...it is..."
Mansi gave him her cellphone number. He then gave her a missed call and saved his.
And then thanking him once again for the ride, the chopsticks lesson, and the gift card, she stepped out of the car.
As the fancy limo drove away, she realized that she was now back in the tepid confines of her regular middle class life.
------
Two days later, Mansi took Pinky to the mall near their house that had a branch of Food Mart. They walked the two kilometers there to save money on rickshaws. It was nearing the end of the month and finances were low. So whatever couple of hundred rupees were on that gift card Dutt gave her would be helpful.
"Mamma look!!" Pinky said as a toy helicopter flew over their head.
The little girl struggled free of her grip and ran after the helicopter. It landed right in front of a makeshift stall in a corner. It was laden with many different types of toy helicopter and a few young sales people with remote controllers in their hands were flying them around, enticing kids. There was a small crowd of kids and parents around the stall.
"Hello there." a young woman walked up to Pinky. "Do you want to fly it?"
"Pinky, let's go." Mansi said, annoyed. This is why she hated going to the mall. There were temptations for her demanding daughter around every corner.
"Mamma please...just a few minutes."
"It's a lot of fun, ma'am. I love it even as an adult. You should try it too." the sales girl made her practiced pitch.
Mansi knew there was no point even putting up a fight. She had been through such situations so many times. And it unfolded exactly as she knew it would. Pinky flew the helicopter around for a few minutes. Fell in love with it. And who wouldn't? Mansi herself was very impressed by how cool and fun it was. She would have loved to buy it for her precious daughter if she could.
But she had also read the board they had on the side with the prices. The cheapest model was 1000 rupees. She had just a little over 1500 left for the rest of the month after accounting for what she owed the kirana store. Even with that gift certificate of a couple of hundred rupees, she simply could not afford it.
And what followed was also very much expected. After the trial demo, the salesgirl started talking about the prices. Pinky started yelling and crying about how she absolutely wanted it. A lot of parents around them, with more money, were buying them. Pinky threw a tantrum. Mansi said no, felt embarrassed. A scene was created. And finally she managed to drag her sobbing and sulking daughter away.
"Stay with me!!" Mansi sternly told Pinky as she took a big cart and walked into Food Mart.
She had heard about this place. Some neighbors had told her that although it was very big and posh and nice, its prices were same as or even lower than their neighborhood kirana store if you bought big quantities. But the problem was, unlike the kirana store, these people did not give credit. With the kirana guy, she could keep buying things, one or two at a time as she needed them, and then pay off the bill when Amar's salary came. With the Food Mart, even with the competitive prices, payment had to be instant. She had read that most people who shopped there were upper middle class people who came with their cars, bought stuff in bulk for the month, and that was it.
As Mansi walked through the store and filled the cart with the essentials like flour, dal, milk, etc, she realized that the prices were indeed competitive. Maybe it was worth it to always come here and shop. It might take some planning with the finances but why not?
"You never buy me anything nice." Pinky sulked, still by her side.
"Don't be a brat. I bought you those shoes."
"I don't like those shoes anymore."
Big surprise, thought Mansi. Is there a more fickle mind of the earth than her daughter's, she wondered.
"Papa is nice. You are not nice." Pinky said.
This made Mansi's temper flare. Amar barely spent any time with their daughter, and was always the nice guy. She was the one bringing her up, taking care of everything, and she was not nice? She knew that this was just the sulking comment of a 7 year old. But it still pissed her off. She didn't say anything of course. But anyone watching the mother and daughter would have seen that both were wearing identical surly expressions.
Mansi had initially planned to just buy a few things of immediate need. If she bought too much, it would be too heavy to carry back on foot for two kilometers. But the more she saw the products and their prices, she realized that she could afford to buy enough for a couple of weeks. And the savings compared to the kirana guy would be enough to take a rickshaw home with the heavy bags. So she started buying the bigger packs for better savings, even buying a few things not on her list.
"That's 1226, ma'am." the guy at the counter said after scanning the last of her items while another guy put them in bags and in the cart.
As the register machine had kept racking up the prices, Mansi had gotten happier and happier. This was was least 10% cheaper than if she had bought all this at the kirana store.
"Okay. Here." she reached into her purse. "I have a gift card. Whatever is left, I will pay by cash."
"Sure, ma'am." the clerk took the card and swiped it as Mansi took cash out.
He looked at the screen for a few seconds. Then there was a whirring noise and a receipt was printed out.
"There you go, ma'am. Thank you for shopping at Food Mart." he held the card up to return it to her.
"Wait...don't I have to give you money?" she said, holding up the cash in her hand.
"No, ma'am. The gift card covered it all. It was worth 5,000 rupees. So here, it still has 3774 rupees on it."
Mansi took the card back and put it in her purse. Then with Pinky by her side, she started pushing the cart with all the bags. This had to be a mistake. Duttsahab had said just a couple of hundred rupees. Surely the Food Mart machine made a mistake. But who was she to complain? She quickly rushed out of the store holding Pinky's hand, fearing that any moment they might call her back.
She kept walking and looking back, wondering if someone was following them. But no one was. She stopped. That's when one of the toy helicopters flew past her again. Pinky looked at it sadly.
"So...I am not nice?" she asked her, staring at the helicopter.
"No." the girl sulked. Mansi smiled.
------
"See, what you don't realize about the Battle of the Bulge is, if only the American generals at that time had shown a little more initiative, and been more smart, then I tell you..." Amar was waxing eloquent on another of his favorite subject walking into the building compound when he was interrupted.
"Look at that!!" one of the three friends with him exclaimed.
Amar looked up. There was a small toy helicopter flying in front of him.
"Hands up, Papa!!" his daughter's voice said from some distance. He saw her standing with a crowd of the building kids. Smiling, he raised his hands. The helicopter flew away.
Along with the kids there were a few adults in that crowd watching his daughter maneuver the helicopter. Among them was Mansi. She saw him and smiled.
"What's all this?" he quietly asked her.
"Her newest toy." Mansi said happily and then looked at his friends. "You should all try it out. It is fun even for adults."
"Sure looks like it." one of them said staring at the helicopter.
They all stood around watching the helicopter fly all around. Finally Amar said,
"We will be upstairs. Can you make us some..."
"Yes sure." Mansi nodded and then said. "Pinky, just five more minutes. Time for homework."
"Okay, mamma." her daughter, for a change, did not argue with her. Just focused on her newest toy.
A while later, Pinky was in the bedroom, doing her homework. Amar and his friends had set up their intellectual conference as always. Mansi could hear that the topic for the night was the Battle of the Bulge. Same old facts, same old arguments that she had heard a dozen times. She was in the kitchen cooking.
Amar walked in alone with the empty tray. She put hot pakoras on the plate in it.
"Mansi...that helicopter...how much did it cost?" he asked after a few seconds.
"Nothing." she said.
"Nothing?" he said skeptically.
Mansi opened her mouth to tell him the whole story. About Reena aunty and the job offer and the kind old man Mr. Dutt and the gift certificate and everything. But it didn't seem like the right time. It would take too long. And knowing his weird sense of honor and pride, he might insist on returning it all. And it would make Pinky cry bloody murder. So she decided on a white lie.
"We were at the mall. They were displaying these toys and holding a lottery to give one away every hour. I just put Pinky's name in the lottery. And we won."
"Oh...ok." Amar believed it.
"Doesn't she look happy? And see how obediently she is doing her homework."
"Yes, of course. But it is materialistic behavior, Mansi." Amar's sanctimonious professorial tone came out.
"Why don't you try explaining your thoughts on materialism to Pinky?" she sarcastically said.
"I will. Some day." Amar said and walked away.
Again, Mansi felt annoyed at her husband. He liked to talk the talk on materialism and idealism and everything. But she was the one who had to live it out. And deal with a very demanding little girl. But Mansi decided not to feel surly about it. It was a rare happy day. She could still remember how Pinky's expression had turned from a scowl to one of delight when she finally told her that she'd buy her the helicopter. It had to be the cheapest model, of course. But even then, the little girl had been over the moon. And she had felt even happier when, after stepping out of the mall, Mansi had decided to take an A/C taxi home instead of a rickshaw. With the savings from the gift card, she could afford it.
As usual, Amar's history session continued past just snacks and tea and it rolled over into dinner. Pinky finished her homework, and tired from running around after the helicopter, fell asleep on the bed. Amar's friends finally left after dinner and the two of them headed to the bedroom.
Exhausted, Mansi laid down on the bed next to Pinky just the way she was, in a comfortable simple sari.
"Can you take Pinky to the couch?" Amar asked as he headed to the bathroom. "And why don't you change into a gown instead?"
"Oh...okay." Mansi said and got off the bed.
She knew what that meant. She gently carried her daughter to the couch. Pinky was a heavy sleeper, so did not wake up at all. Mansi put her on the couch and covered her with a thin sheet. Living in a small one bedroom apartment, that's the only way the married couple could get some privacy. Wait until the daughter falls asleep and then put her in the living room. She then went back to the bedroom and took a gown out of the closet. It was a simple modest full body sleeping gown. She changed into it and got into bed waiting for Amar. But she was so tired that she fell asleep almost right away.
The room was dark when Mansi felt herself being pushed a little. She opened her eyes.
"Are you awake?" Amar whispered.
"Hmmm." she responded.
"Too tired for it?" he considerately asked.
"No, I am ready." she said. It had been a while since the last time.
In a flash, Amar got on top of her, sliding off his pyjama and underwear. His hands went to her ankle and started pushing the gown up. It was easier than pushing up her sari. Mansi hated those gowns. But she knew that whenever Amar suggested that she sleep in a gown, it was a signal that he wanted sex that night. It happened about once a fortnight.
Amar pushed the gown all the way up to her chest. He reached behind her and fumbled with her bra hooks. Even after eight years, it always took him a while to unhook her bra. Then he played with her boobs with one hand as his other hand slipped her panties down. There was some perfunctory kissing for a few seconds. Mansi could feel her husband's erect dick against her thighs.
It had been eight years so there were no surprises left as such. Mansi could predict Amar's moves and their sequence. After the few seconds of kissing, he took her right nipple in his teeth and gently bit it. Then his left hand moved to her right knee and pulled it, opening her thighs. He lowered his hips and the tip of his cock rubbed against the opening of her pussy. She reached down with her left hand and aligned it. And then he penetrated her.
And the bed started shaking and creaking. Mansi felt pleasant sensations emanating from her loins as her husband fucked her. She always liked this. She always wished he did it more often. But she was brought up in too demure and conservative a way to ever make the first move. So she always had to wait until he felt horny. And this was the night. Their thighs made a soft slapping sound as Amar banged his wife fast. She put one hand under his kurta and played with his chest hair. As the sex continued, she felt herself getting more relaxed and also more pleasured.
She looked at Amar's face on top of her. He was staring at her with a blank expression, occasionally kissing her. She closed her eyes. Suddenly an image flashed in her mind. The image of Duttsahab's face as it was right next to her in the car. Panicked, she opened her eyes.
"What...happened?" Amar asked her.
"Nothing." she whispered and kept her eyes open, focusing on her husband's inert face. She was disturbed by why that old man's face had suddenly flashed in front of her eyes. She did her best to not think about it, and kept looking at Amar, kissing him whenever he kissed her.
After a couple of minutes, Amar started humping her harder.
"Still on the pill?" he hoarsely whispered, on schedule.
"Yes." she said.
Whenever he asked this, she knew what was coming. And soon he was cumming, inside her. It had been another enjoyable sex session. Amar stayed on top of his wife for a few seconds. Then he got up. As always, he wrapped a towel around his waist and went to the bathroom first to clean his sticky cock. When he came back, Mansi lowered her gown and did the same. When she came back from the bathroom, Amar was fully dressed, and in bed snoring.
She put her panties back on, and went to the living room. She carried her sleeping daughter back to the bed. And then fell asleep next to her.
---
Mansi got back to her regular life after her short introduction to high class living with Reena aunty and Duttsahab. She considered calling aunty to meet up again and talk about the job. But then she decided to give it a few days. She worried that if she contacted her again so soon, it might seem like she was again trying to mooch off a free expensive meal. Besides, thanks to that gift card, she was okay with finances for a while. There was enough money left on it to buy groceries and other supplies for almost two months if she stretched it. Which meant that the money from Amar's salary could be used for other purposes.
The next few weeks were great for Pinky. Whenever she went out with her mother and made a random demand, most of the times, it was fulfilled. Be it ice cream or pastries or even small toys being sold here or there. She just had to ask and she would receive, as long as it was within reason.
"Pinky is getting more and more toys these days." Amar noted one morning as he saw his daughter playing with a few doll.
"It makes her happy." Mansi shrugged.
"But...can we afford all this?"
"Do you want me to give you a full accounting of all the money?" Mansi said in a miffed voice.
"Of course not. Why are you getting upset?"
"I have been running the household for eight years now. I know better than you what we can and cannot afford."
"It's not just about being able to afford it." Amar changed the topic. "I have said before that I don't want to instill materialistic values in our child."
Mansi seethed in silence as she did her work. It was so easy for him to be so high and mighty from his ivory tower while leaving her to face the practical implications of his supposed values.
"So...how is your job search going?" Amar asked. She noted a hint of sarcasm in his voice.
"I haven't gotten around to it yet." she said. She considered telling him about Reena aunty but then decided to wait until the job was confirmed.
"Hmmm." he said and smiled. She could sense that to him it was a big joke. He did not think his homely barely qualified wife could ever get a job.
This made her even more resolved to call Reena aunty soon. She knew that Amar didn't take the idea seriously. But it was important to her. Making some money wouldn't just make her household life easier, it would be useful for Pinky's future too. She had been thinking about it since Dutt spoke about his kids. To give Pinky a bright future, they would need a decent amount of money. A few years ago they had started a dedicated savings account for her college fund. But given how tight money was, it did not have more than a couple of thousand. If she got even a moderately paying job, they could save at least a couple of lakhs until Pinky grew up.
As it happened, Reena was the one who called her the next morning.
"Mansi, you have become a stranger. Too busy for your old friend?" she mock scolded.
"No aunty, I just didn't want to disturb you."
"You can never disturb me, sweetheart. Listen, are you free today?"
"Yes." Mansi eagerly said.
"I have a surprise for you."
"A surprise? What surprise?"
"If I tell you that, it won't be a surprise now, will it? Be ready in an hour. I will pick you up from that main road near your house. The corner with the ATM. And dress nicely."
Mansi hung up and wondered if she had ever given aunty her address. How did she know about the main road and the ATM? She guessed she must have and just forgotten about it. Mansi picked out another of her nice saris and got ready. She wondered what the surprise was.
And hour later she was waiting in the heat where Reena had told her to when a gleaming limousine pulled up to her. She wondered if it was Duttsahab again, but it was different from the one she had been in last time.
The chauffer, smartly dressed, got out and stylishly opened the back door.
"Mansi! Hi!!" Reena aunty squealed from inside and waved.
Mansi saw her and got into the air conditioned limousine. And right next to her, she found Dutt, again dressed in a stylish suit.
"How are you, Mansi?"
"Namaste, Duttsahab. Namaste, aunty." Mansi said as her shapely butt sank into the soft seat of the car. She was a little confused to see the old man here again. But she did not mind much. She had taken quite a liking to him. She tried not to think about how his face had flashed in front of her eyes during sex, and blushed a little.
"Mansi, you seem confused. Let me explain your surprise. Or rather, let Duttsahab explain." Reena said, holding a champagne flute in her hand and sipping from it. There was a champagne bottle in an ice bucket on a shelf next to her.
"It's nothing, really." Dutt said, also with champagne in his hand. "I told you my son is a sculptor. When I told him I was coming to Bombay again, he told me about this exhibition at a great art gallery in Bandra. And I remembered your interest in art. So I thought you might enjoy coming to it with Reena and me."
"Oh, thank you. That was very thoughtful of you." Mansi beamed. A high end art exhibition in posh Bandra did sound like something she would enjoy.
Contd....
"Oh sure...it is..."
Mansi gave him her cellphone number. He then gave her a missed call and saved his.
And then thanking him once again for the ride, the chopsticks lesson, and the gift card, she stepped out of the car.
As the fancy limo drove away, she realized that she was now back in the tepid confines of her regular middle class life.
------
Two days later, Mansi took Pinky to the mall near their house that had a branch of Food Mart. They walked the two kilometers there to save money on rickshaws. It was nearing the end of the month and finances were low. So whatever couple of hundred rupees were on that gift card Dutt gave her would be helpful.
"Mamma look!!" Pinky said as a toy helicopter flew over their head.
The little girl struggled free of her grip and ran after the helicopter. It landed right in front of a makeshift stall in a corner. It was laden with many different types of toy helicopter and a few young sales people with remote controllers in their hands were flying them around, enticing kids. There was a small crowd of kids and parents around the stall.
"Hello there." a young woman walked up to Pinky. "Do you want to fly it?"
"Pinky, let's go." Mansi said, annoyed. This is why she hated going to the mall. There were temptations for her demanding daughter around every corner.
"Mamma please...just a few minutes."
"It's a lot of fun, ma'am. I love it even as an adult. You should try it too." the sales girl made her practiced pitch.
Mansi knew there was no point even putting up a fight. She had been through such situations so many times. And it unfolded exactly as she knew it would. Pinky flew the helicopter around for a few minutes. Fell in love with it. And who wouldn't? Mansi herself was very impressed by how cool and fun it was. She would have loved to buy it for her precious daughter if she could.
But she had also read the board they had on the side with the prices. The cheapest model was 1000 rupees. She had just a little over 1500 left for the rest of the month after accounting for what she owed the kirana store. Even with that gift certificate of a couple of hundred rupees, she simply could not afford it.
And what followed was also very much expected. After the trial demo, the salesgirl started talking about the prices. Pinky started yelling and crying about how she absolutely wanted it. A lot of parents around them, with more money, were buying them. Pinky threw a tantrum. Mansi said no, felt embarrassed. A scene was created. And finally she managed to drag her sobbing and sulking daughter away.
"Stay with me!!" Mansi sternly told Pinky as she took a big cart and walked into Food Mart.
She had heard about this place. Some neighbors had told her that although it was very big and posh and nice, its prices were same as or even lower than their neighborhood kirana store if you bought big quantities. But the problem was, unlike the kirana store, these people did not give credit. With the kirana guy, she could keep buying things, one or two at a time as she needed them, and then pay off the bill when Amar's salary came. With the Food Mart, even with the competitive prices, payment had to be instant. She had read that most people who shopped there were upper middle class people who came with their cars, bought stuff in bulk for the month, and that was it.
As Mansi walked through the store and filled the cart with the essentials like flour, dal, milk, etc, she realized that the prices were indeed competitive. Maybe it was worth it to always come here and shop. It might take some planning with the finances but why not?
"You never buy me anything nice." Pinky sulked, still by her side.
"Don't be a brat. I bought you those shoes."
"I don't like those shoes anymore."
Big surprise, thought Mansi. Is there a more fickle mind of the earth than her daughter's, she wondered.
"Papa is nice. You are not nice." Pinky said.
This made Mansi's temper flare. Amar barely spent any time with their daughter, and was always the nice guy. She was the one bringing her up, taking care of everything, and she was not nice? She knew that this was just the sulking comment of a 7 year old. But it still pissed her off. She didn't say anything of course. But anyone watching the mother and daughter would have seen that both were wearing identical surly expressions.
Mansi had initially planned to just buy a few things of immediate need. If she bought too much, it would be too heavy to carry back on foot for two kilometers. But the more she saw the products and their prices, she realized that she could afford to buy enough for a couple of weeks. And the savings compared to the kirana guy would be enough to take a rickshaw home with the heavy bags. So she started buying the bigger packs for better savings, even buying a few things not on her list.
"That's 1226, ma'am." the guy at the counter said after scanning the last of her items while another guy put them in bags and in the cart.
As the register machine had kept racking up the prices, Mansi had gotten happier and happier. This was was least 10% cheaper than if she had bought all this at the kirana store.
"Okay. Here." she reached into her purse. "I have a gift card. Whatever is left, I will pay by cash."
"Sure, ma'am." the clerk took the card and swiped it as Mansi took cash out.
He looked at the screen for a few seconds. Then there was a whirring noise and a receipt was printed out.
"There you go, ma'am. Thank you for shopping at Food Mart." he held the card up to return it to her.
"Wait...don't I have to give you money?" she said, holding up the cash in her hand.
"No, ma'am. The gift card covered it all. It was worth 5,000 rupees. So here, it still has 3774 rupees on it."
Mansi took the card back and put it in her purse. Then with Pinky by her side, she started pushing the cart with all the bags. This had to be a mistake. Duttsahab had said just a couple of hundred rupees. Surely the Food Mart machine made a mistake. But who was she to complain? She quickly rushed out of the store holding Pinky's hand, fearing that any moment they might call her back.
She kept walking and looking back, wondering if someone was following them. But no one was. She stopped. That's when one of the toy helicopters flew past her again. Pinky looked at it sadly.
"So...I am not nice?" she asked her, staring at the helicopter.
"No." the girl sulked. Mansi smiled.
------
"See, what you don't realize about the Battle of the Bulge is, if only the American generals at that time had shown a little more initiative, and been more smart, then I tell you..." Amar was waxing eloquent on another of his favorite subject walking into the building compound when he was interrupted.
"Look at that!!" one of the three friends with him exclaimed.
Amar looked up. There was a small toy helicopter flying in front of him.
"Hands up, Papa!!" his daughter's voice said from some distance. He saw her standing with a crowd of the building kids. Smiling, he raised his hands. The helicopter flew away.
Along with the kids there were a few adults in that crowd watching his daughter maneuver the helicopter. Among them was Mansi. She saw him and smiled.
"What's all this?" he quietly asked her.
"Her newest toy." Mansi said happily and then looked at his friends. "You should all try it out. It is fun even for adults."
"Sure looks like it." one of them said staring at the helicopter.
They all stood around watching the helicopter fly all around. Finally Amar said,
"We will be upstairs. Can you make us some..."
"Yes sure." Mansi nodded and then said. "Pinky, just five more minutes. Time for homework."
"Okay, mamma." her daughter, for a change, did not argue with her. Just focused on her newest toy.
A while later, Pinky was in the bedroom, doing her homework. Amar and his friends had set up their intellectual conference as always. Mansi could hear that the topic for the night was the Battle of the Bulge. Same old facts, same old arguments that she had heard a dozen times. She was in the kitchen cooking.
Amar walked in alone with the empty tray. She put hot pakoras on the plate in it.
"Mansi...that helicopter...how much did it cost?" he asked after a few seconds.
"Nothing." she said.
"Nothing?" he said skeptically.
Mansi opened her mouth to tell him the whole story. About Reena aunty and the job offer and the kind old man Mr. Dutt and the gift certificate and everything. But it didn't seem like the right time. It would take too long. And knowing his weird sense of honor and pride, he might insist on returning it all. And it would make Pinky cry bloody murder. So she decided on a white lie.
"We were at the mall. They were displaying these toys and holding a lottery to give one away every hour. I just put Pinky's name in the lottery. And we won."
"Oh...ok." Amar believed it.
"Doesn't she look happy? And see how obediently she is doing her homework."
"Yes, of course. But it is materialistic behavior, Mansi." Amar's sanctimonious professorial tone came out.
"Why don't you try explaining your thoughts on materialism to Pinky?" she sarcastically said.
"I will. Some day." Amar said and walked away.
Again, Mansi felt annoyed at her husband. He liked to talk the talk on materialism and idealism and everything. But she was the one who had to live it out. And deal with a very demanding little girl. But Mansi decided not to feel surly about it. It was a rare happy day. She could still remember how Pinky's expression had turned from a scowl to one of delight when she finally told her that she'd buy her the helicopter. It had to be the cheapest model, of course. But even then, the little girl had been over the moon. And she had felt even happier when, after stepping out of the mall, Mansi had decided to take an A/C taxi home instead of a rickshaw. With the savings from the gift card, she could afford it.
As usual, Amar's history session continued past just snacks and tea and it rolled over into dinner. Pinky finished her homework, and tired from running around after the helicopter, fell asleep on the bed. Amar's friends finally left after dinner and the two of them headed to the bedroom.
Exhausted, Mansi laid down on the bed next to Pinky just the way she was, in a comfortable simple sari.
"Can you take Pinky to the couch?" Amar asked as he headed to the bathroom. "And why don't you change into a gown instead?"
"Oh...okay." Mansi said and got off the bed.
She knew what that meant. She gently carried her daughter to the couch. Pinky was a heavy sleeper, so did not wake up at all. Mansi put her on the couch and covered her with a thin sheet. Living in a small one bedroom apartment, that's the only way the married couple could get some privacy. Wait until the daughter falls asleep and then put her in the living room. She then went back to the bedroom and took a gown out of the closet. It was a simple modest full body sleeping gown. She changed into it and got into bed waiting for Amar. But she was so tired that she fell asleep almost right away.
The room was dark when Mansi felt herself being pushed a little. She opened her eyes.
"Are you awake?" Amar whispered.
"Hmmm." she responded.
"Too tired for it?" he considerately asked.
"No, I am ready." she said. It had been a while since the last time.
In a flash, Amar got on top of her, sliding off his pyjama and underwear. His hands went to her ankle and started pushing the gown up. It was easier than pushing up her sari. Mansi hated those gowns. But she knew that whenever Amar suggested that she sleep in a gown, it was a signal that he wanted sex that night. It happened about once a fortnight.
Amar pushed the gown all the way up to her chest. He reached behind her and fumbled with her bra hooks. Even after eight years, it always took him a while to unhook her bra. Then he played with her boobs with one hand as his other hand slipped her panties down. There was some perfunctory kissing for a few seconds. Mansi could feel her husband's erect dick against her thighs.
It had been eight years so there were no surprises left as such. Mansi could predict Amar's moves and their sequence. After the few seconds of kissing, he took her right nipple in his teeth and gently bit it. Then his left hand moved to her right knee and pulled it, opening her thighs. He lowered his hips and the tip of his cock rubbed against the opening of her pussy. She reached down with her left hand and aligned it. And then he penetrated her.
And the bed started shaking and creaking. Mansi felt pleasant sensations emanating from her loins as her husband fucked her. She always liked this. She always wished he did it more often. But she was brought up in too demure and conservative a way to ever make the first move. So she always had to wait until he felt horny. And this was the night. Their thighs made a soft slapping sound as Amar banged his wife fast. She put one hand under his kurta and played with his chest hair. As the sex continued, she felt herself getting more relaxed and also more pleasured.
She looked at Amar's face on top of her. He was staring at her with a blank expression, occasionally kissing her. She closed her eyes. Suddenly an image flashed in her mind. The image of Duttsahab's face as it was right next to her in the car. Panicked, she opened her eyes.
"What...happened?" Amar asked her.
"Nothing." she whispered and kept her eyes open, focusing on her husband's inert face. She was disturbed by why that old man's face had suddenly flashed in front of her eyes. She did her best to not think about it, and kept looking at Amar, kissing him whenever he kissed her.
After a couple of minutes, Amar started humping her harder.
"Still on the pill?" he hoarsely whispered, on schedule.
"Yes." she said.
Whenever he asked this, she knew what was coming. And soon he was cumming, inside her. It had been another enjoyable sex session. Amar stayed on top of his wife for a few seconds. Then he got up. As always, he wrapped a towel around his waist and went to the bathroom first to clean his sticky cock. When he came back, Mansi lowered her gown and did the same. When she came back from the bathroom, Amar was fully dressed, and in bed snoring.
She put her panties back on, and went to the living room. She carried her sleeping daughter back to the bed. And then fell asleep next to her.
---
Mansi got back to her regular life after her short introduction to high class living with Reena aunty and Duttsahab. She considered calling aunty to meet up again and talk about the job. But then she decided to give it a few days. She worried that if she contacted her again so soon, it might seem like she was again trying to mooch off a free expensive meal. Besides, thanks to that gift card, she was okay with finances for a while. There was enough money left on it to buy groceries and other supplies for almost two months if she stretched it. Which meant that the money from Amar's salary could be used for other purposes.
The next few weeks were great for Pinky. Whenever she went out with her mother and made a random demand, most of the times, it was fulfilled. Be it ice cream or pastries or even small toys being sold here or there. She just had to ask and she would receive, as long as it was within reason.
"Pinky is getting more and more toys these days." Amar noted one morning as he saw his daughter playing with a few doll.
"It makes her happy." Mansi shrugged.
"But...can we afford all this?"
"Do you want me to give you a full accounting of all the money?" Mansi said in a miffed voice.
"Of course not. Why are you getting upset?"
"I have been running the household for eight years now. I know better than you what we can and cannot afford."
"It's not just about being able to afford it." Amar changed the topic. "I have said before that I don't want to instill materialistic values in our child."
Mansi seethed in silence as she did her work. It was so easy for him to be so high and mighty from his ivory tower while leaving her to face the practical implications of his supposed values.
"So...how is your job search going?" Amar asked. She noted a hint of sarcasm in his voice.
"I haven't gotten around to it yet." she said. She considered telling him about Reena aunty but then decided to wait until the job was confirmed.
"Hmmm." he said and smiled. She could sense that to him it was a big joke. He did not think his homely barely qualified wife could ever get a job.
This made her even more resolved to call Reena aunty soon. She knew that Amar didn't take the idea seriously. But it was important to her. Making some money wouldn't just make her household life easier, it would be useful for Pinky's future too. She had been thinking about it since Dutt spoke about his kids. To give Pinky a bright future, they would need a decent amount of money. A few years ago they had started a dedicated savings account for her college fund. But given how tight money was, it did not have more than a couple of thousand. If she got even a moderately paying job, they could save at least a couple of lakhs until Pinky grew up.
As it happened, Reena was the one who called her the next morning.
"Mansi, you have become a stranger. Too busy for your old friend?" she mock scolded.
"No aunty, I just didn't want to disturb you."
"You can never disturb me, sweetheart. Listen, are you free today?"
"Yes." Mansi eagerly said.
"I have a surprise for you."
"A surprise? What surprise?"
"If I tell you that, it won't be a surprise now, will it? Be ready in an hour. I will pick you up from that main road near your house. The corner with the ATM. And dress nicely."
Mansi hung up and wondered if she had ever given aunty her address. How did she know about the main road and the ATM? She guessed she must have and just forgotten about it. Mansi picked out another of her nice saris and got ready. She wondered what the surprise was.
And hour later she was waiting in the heat where Reena had told her to when a gleaming limousine pulled up to her. She wondered if it was Duttsahab again, but it was different from the one she had been in last time.
The chauffer, smartly dressed, got out and stylishly opened the back door.
"Mansi! Hi!!" Reena aunty squealed from inside and waved.
Mansi saw her and got into the air conditioned limousine. And right next to her, she found Dutt, again dressed in a stylish suit.
"How are you, Mansi?"
"Namaste, Duttsahab. Namaste, aunty." Mansi said as her shapely butt sank into the soft seat of the car. She was a little confused to see the old man here again. But she did not mind much. She had taken quite a liking to him. She tried not to think about how his face had flashed in front of her eyes during sex, and blushed a little.
"Mansi, you seem confused. Let me explain your surprise. Or rather, let Duttsahab explain." Reena said, holding a champagne flute in her hand and sipping from it. There was a champagne bottle in an ice bucket on a shelf next to her.
"It's nothing, really." Dutt said, also with champagne in his hand. "I told you my son is a sculptor. When I told him I was coming to Bombay again, he told me about this exhibition at a great art gallery in Bandra. And I remembered your interest in art. So I thought you might enjoy coming to it with Reena and me."
"Oh, thank you. That was very thoughtful of you." Mansi beamed. A high end art exhibition in posh Bandra did sound like something she would enjoy.
Contd....
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