Adultery Mere papa ke boss ko meri mummy ki badi gaand pasand hai.

[Deepak_bull]

CHAPTER 10

"Meri maa ke ajeeb pal mere papa ke boss ke saath."

Lekin main Mom pe bhi gussa tha, haan thoda chhota, tez, zyada confusing. Kyun usne paani dene ke baad bhi ek second ke liye bhi uske room mein rukna tha? Kyun usne uske jhukte hi thappad nahi maara?


Woh strong thi—end mein push kiya tha—lekin woh hesitation, woh moment jahan usne kiss hone diya, mujhe kha raha tha. Mujhe pata tha yeh uski galti nahi, sach mein nahi, lekin gussa phir bhi flicker kar raha tha.


Aur phir Dad the, hall ke end mein peacefully kharrate lete, oblivious. Main unpe furious tha jaanne na paane ke liye, kuch wrong sense na karne ke liye. Woh Davendra ko idolize karte the, “sir” kehte stars eyes mein, unke jokes pe hanste, har chhoti cheez ke liye thank karte.


Kaise itne blind ho sakte the? Kaise so sakte the jab unka boss unki wife ko 10 meter door grope kar raha tha? Yeh betrayal feel karta, bhale hi Dad ne kuch wrong nahi kiya. Main unhe hilana chahta tha, chillana, Tera hero creep hai!
Lekin nahi kar sakta. Unka dil tod bina nahi.


Aakhir mein main apne room wapas khinch gaya, door intended se zyada hard slam. Bed too big, too soft feel. Maine pillow punch kiya, toss, turn. Neend nahi aayi. 


Har baar eyes close, Davendra ke haath, Mom ki wide eyes, open door dikhta.
Mera mind what-ifs se spin: Agar main jaldi andar jaata? Agar woh nahi bhagti? Agar woh phir try kare? Resort, perfect beaches aur golden lights ke saath, ab trap feel karta. Main ise jala dena chahta tha.


Subah jaldi aa gayi. Balcony se sunlight pour, cheer se mock. Maine barely soya, eyes gritty, head throb. Nightmares fog jaise cling—Davendra ki voice head mein, low coaxing, Mom ka tremble “We shouldn’t.”


Main bed se utra, shorts aur T-shirt pehna, sitting room ki taraf shuffle, phone charger phir bhool. Sirf soch: Ghar jaana chahta hoon. Resort ne sab barbaad kar diya.


Private jet, dolphins, fancy dinners—ab sab poisoned. Har palm tree, har sparkling pool Davendra ke game ka part feel.
Sitting room mein Dad aur Davendra already up, coffee pe laugh.


Dad usual cheerful mood mein, hair shower se damp, bright blue polo. “Wahan mera ladka!” unhone call, mujhe wave. “Davendra abhi Goa mein monsoon outrun ki story bata rahe the—paddy field mein slip!”


Davendra chuckle, chair pe lean back, linen shirt aur khakis mein casual. “Mud knees tak, Kishore. Socha rice planting karunga zindagi bhar.”
Dad table slap, roar. “Jai, photo mein uska face dekhna chahiye—pure panic!”


Maine forced smile, jaw tight. “Morning Dad. Morning sir.” Sir shabd ash taste.
Main Davendra ka coffee uske lap pe dump karna chahta, chillana last night Mom ke saath kya kiya ya Dad ko bata dena. Lekin swallow kiya, nod jaise Dad baat karte rahe.


“Soya okay, beta?” Dad ne poocha, mujhe orange juice daalte. “Thoda tired lag raha.”
“Fine,” mutter, unke across baith. “Bas… long night.”


Davendra ki eyes mujhpe flick, second ke liye sharp, phir easy grin. “Big day ahead, Jai. Waterfall hike, phir jet-skiing. In?”
“Haan sure,” flat voice. Glass grip, knuckles white. Sochta normal act kar sakta last night ke baad?
Dad notice nahi, abhi chuckle.


“Yeh aadmi stories for days. Yaad hai ’98 dock strike, sir? Tumne workers ko—”
“Oh Kishore, mat shuru karo,” Davendra wave, lekin smile, praise love.


Maine pee ke liye excuse, unki laughter se break. Bathroom mein cold water face pe, reflection stare. Get it together. Bahar nikla, Mom kitchen mein fruit chop.

Woh dark blue blouse aur white saree mein, hair tied back, usual grace lekin slower, careful. Uski badi gaand sway mango reach karte, robe familiar roundness outline.






Ek split second socha mom—Kyun jaldi nahi bhagi? Kyun room mein ruki?—phir yaad aaya push, panicked sprint hall down.
Usne fight back kiya. Hum choose kiya. Chest thoda loose. Phir good feel, proud even.


Paas gaya, counter lean. “Morning Mom.”


Woh startled upar dekhi, phir smile—too quick, too bright. “Morning beta. Bhookh? Fruit salad bana rahi, stove pe paratha.”
“Sounds good,” light rakh. “Tum okay?”


Uski eyes flick away, mango focus. “Fine, bas… early. Coffee brew ho rahi agar chahiye.”


Uski badi gaand wahan thi stove turn karte, robe tight pull, full heavy curves show.
Kabhi drawer mein kuch pick karne thoda bend.










Maine fast away dekha, floor stare. Uski badi gaand nahi dekhna—not last night ke baad, not Davendra ke haath memory mein burned.


Wrong feel notice karna, jaise betray by glance. Decide: Eyes anywhere else. Usse aur staring nahi chahiye, not even me.
Mom apne mein nahi thi, hundred ways show. Smile eyes tak nahi, laugh forced Dad call se. Move jaise brace, shoulders tense, haath bangles fidget.


Usually hum cook karte, sweets tease, head mein song pe dance. Aaj quiet, mechanical. Fruit chop too focus, counter twice wipe already clean.


Eyes sitting room dart, phir away, Davendra voice track. Kyun pata—last night shaken. Scared try again, ya find out. Lekin nahi poocha.


Nahi sakta. Abhi nahi.
“Last night tea thanks,” banana grab haath busy.


Woh nod, mujhe na dekh. “Anytime beta. Sleep help?”
“Thoda,” lie. “Tum okay soyi?”


Knife pause.
“Oh jaante ho. Resort beds adjust. Forced chuckle, hollow.


Hug karna chahta, bataun dekha, proud run. Words stuck. Instead, “Breakfast help chahiye batao.”
“Sweet ho,” arm pat. “Baith. Main kar lungi.”


Baad mein dining table, Mom breakfast serve—fluffy parathas, fruit salad, scrambled eggs, masala chai pot.
Humare around move, plates refill, lekin eyes Davendra pe nahi. Dish pass, table, wall, anywhere. Tea daalte haath shake, spout wobble.


Dad oblivious, eggs pile. “Prisha, restaurant-level swear. Sir, uska aloo paratha try—mouth melt.”
Davendra smile, lean back. “Divine hoga Kishore. Prisha, spoil kar rahi.”


Mom mumble, “Just breakfast,” fast turn. Eye contact avoid.
Phir hua—Davendra ko tea daalte, pot zyada tip. Hot chai thighs pe splash, khakis soak. Woh yelp, jump. “Whoa—hot!”
Mom gasp, pot clatter drop. “Oh no! Sorry!” Napkin grab, frantic, thighs wipe, quick panicked strokes.


Tea seep, boxers outline. Penis shape clear—thick, long, cloth press. Mom eyes flick down wipe karte, freeze second, realize.
Face red flush.
Davendra stare notice, slow knowing smile, touch mein lean. “Careful Prisha. Tum bhi burn.”


Woh smile nahi. Lips thin, haath yank, napkin crumple. “I—I towel laati,” stammer, kitchen bolt.
Main Davendra pe livid. Smug smile, lean enjoy panic—table flip chahta. Play kar raha, last night taunt.


Dad clueless, chair wipe socha. “Prisha upholstery worry mat,” call, paratha munch. “Thodi chai hurt nahi!”
Maine sab notice—Mom frozen stare, retreat, Davendra grin. Towel leke wapas, word bina de, phir wipe nahi. Counter busy, back hume, shoulders rigid.


Din waterfall hike drag—stunning, barely dekha. Mind elsewhere, Davendra watch, Mom. Woh Dad close stick, jokes loud laugh, Davendra eyes avoid.


Us raat Davendra lavish seaside restaurant—open-air, fairy lights palms, live band soft jazz. Tables white linen, crystal glasses, grilled prawns, lobster thermidor, saffron rice platters.


Mom Dad arm-in-arm whole time, steps quick keep, shield jaise. Davendra behind lag, slow only Dad ke saath, never alone.
Davendra notice—eyes narrow Mom Dad story dock mishap laugh, ya dessert shoulder lean.


Pata tha plan kuch. Watch tarika, smile eyes tak nahi Dad praise. Patient, calculating, moment wait. Nahi hone dunga. Mom glue stick, nothing happen. Phir near nahi.


Mom dress pleased nahi. Full yellow saree, lekin traditional nahi—usual modest nahi. Blouse sleeveless, low-cut, tight, boobs spill, heavy round, har step jiggle.