Me(Sonalika) - How I love my Father in law(3 Videos) - Scene 9 - Gold*

[ashuezy2]

Scene 3 - Gold

The next day – lunch time
I had been trembling since morning.
Vimla Devi maa-ji had called me to her room at sunrise, her voice weak from pain:
“Sonalika, from today you will feed Babuji at lunch. I can’t even stand. Don’t let him miss a single bite.”

I had only nodded, my throat dry.
All morning my mind screamed:

What will he say today?
Will he touch me higher than yesterday?
What if he pulls my pallu?
What if he tries to kiss me?
What if I can’t stop him… or don’t want to stop him?

I kept busy in the kitchen so the thoughts wouldn’t swallow me.
Finally I prepared the silver thaali: soft rice, thick dal, two pieces of ghee-soaked roti, a bowl of curd, and a little mango pickle. My hands shook while arranging everything perfectly.

As soon as my payal jingled in the corridor, his voice floated out, low and hungry.

Come, bahu… come. I was waiting only for you. I’m very hungry today… very, very hungry.

I pushed the door open.

Babuji was sitting up properly today, back against the wall, pillows fluffed behind him. He had bathed. His grey hair was neatly combed, beard trimmed short, and he wore a fresh kurta-pajama that made his thin body look almost strong. A faint smile played on his lips, but his eyes—dark, shining, fixed on me—told the truth. That same raw hunger from yesterday, only sharper now.

I walked in slowly and sat on the edge of the bed, closer than yesterday because he patted the mattress right next to his thigh.

Sit close, my jaan. Why so far? Today you have to feed Babuji properly.

I obeyed. My hip touched his leg. The heat from his body seeped through my saree instantly.
He looked at the thaali, then at me, and licked his lower lip slowly.

He placed his hand flat on his chest, then slid it down to his stomach, then lower, letting it rest on his crotch for a second.
(…and lower too.)

My breath caught. I mixed rice and dal quickly and raised the first bite to his mouth.
He opened wide, took it in, but his tongue deliberately curled around my fingers, sucking them clean with a soft wet sound.

Mmm… now I understand… the taste of your fingers is different. Like sucking a rasgulla.
I tried to pull back. He caught my wrist gently but firmly.

Hey… where so fast? Today Babuji wants a reward after every bite.

He guided my hand to his lips again, took the second bite, and this time let his teeth graze my fingertips.
“Reward number one,” he whispered, and leaned in.

His free hand slid under my pallu, cupped my left breast over the blouse, and squeezed once—slow, possessive.
I gasped. My nipple hardened instantly against his palm.

Shhh… quiet. Let me finish food first. Then we’ll see how much milk is in these.

His thumb circled my nipple through the cloth while I kept feeding him, bite after bite. Every time I brought the spoon near, he sucked my fingers longer, louder, eyes locked on mine.

Half the thaali was gone. He shifted, pulled me even closer so my breast pressed fully into his hand.

Blouse is tight today… you can’t breathe properly. Shall I open the hooks?

Before I could answer, his fingers slipped to my back, found the top hook, and flicked it open. Then the second. Then the third.

My blouse parted. Cool air hit my skin. My bra was plain white cotton, but my nipples poked shamelessly through it.
He groaned softly.

Wow… such big rasgullas. Babuji will die today.

I was shaking now, but I didn’t stop feeding. The last bite went in. He chewed slowly, swallowed, then dropped all pretence.
He set the thaali aside, both hands free now.

Food is done. Now the real hunger.

In one smooth move he cupped my face with surprising strength, pulled me forward, and crushed his mouth to mine.
His lips were dry at first, then wet and hungry. His tongue pushed in, tasting of dal and ghee and pure man. He kissed like he was starving—sucking my lower lip, biting gently, licking into my mouth while his hands roamed everywhere: squeezing my breasts, pinching my nipples through the bra, sliding down to grip my waist and pull me onto his lap.
I melted. Every wall I had built crumbled in that kiss. I kissed him back, moaning into his mouth, my arms going around his neck on their own.



He broke the kiss only to breathe against my lips.

From today you are mine, Sonalika. You’ll come every day. Feed me every day. Give reward every day. Understood?
I could only nod, breathless, lips swollen, body on fire.

He smiled, wicked and victorious, and kissed me once more—slow, deep, claiming.
Outside, Meerut carried on with its noisy afternoon.

Inside the room, the silver thaali lay forgotten on the floor, and I belonged to Babuji completely.