21-12-2025, 07:46 PM
Geetha stood in front of the dresser, towel-drying her long hair after her bath, the steam from the bathroom still clinging to her skin.
The bedroom door opened quietly, and Gautham stepped in, crossing to the cupboard without a word. He pulled out a flat, glossy cover, unzipped it, and drew out a sleek black dress. He held it up for her inspection, the sticker on the plastic showing a model wearing it like a second skin.
![[Image: bElr8.jpg]](https://s12.gifyu.com/images/bElr8.jpg)
“How is it?” he asked.
Geetha glanced at the image, then back at him. “Do I have to wear it now?”
“No,” he said with a small smile. “I meant for the party tomorrow.”
She rose from the edge of the bed, took the dress from his hands, and laid it carefully beside her. “It’s nice,” she admitted, “but I don’t really like wearing things like this to parties.”
“What, you’re going to wear a saree?” Gautham teased. “This is Montreal, not Karimnagar or Mancherial.”
She stepped closer, sliding her hands around his waist. “Tell me,” she murmured, looking up at him. “Should I wear it now? I’ll wear whatever you ask me to.”
Gautham’s eyes darkened slightly. “For now,” he said, voice low, “don’t wear anything.”
A shy smile curved her lips. She loosened the knot of her towel and let it fall, standing naked before her husband. Her body—soft, fair, and curved like a sculpture molded from fresh cream—pressed against him as she rose on her toes to kiss the underside of his chin.
“Okay?” she whispered.
“Not okay,” he replied, though his hands were already on her hips. “Get ready. Let’s have dinner and then cut the cake.”
Geetha hummed thoughtfully. “Hmm… before coming here, Bharath bought a black dress too. He said if I wore it in front of you, you’d get into the mood.”
Gautham lifted an eyebrow. “Oh really? Show me.”
She turned, moving with unhurried grace, her nakedness on full display as she bent to retrieve another cover from her suitcase. The motion drew a playful slap from Gautham across her left buttock.
“Ouch!” She straightened quickly, rubbing the spot, the cover clutched to her chest. “That hard? It stings!”
He laughed. “Should I hit you again?”
“Uh-huh,” she shook her head, eyes dancing.
She unzipped the second cover and held up the dress Bharath had chosen—shorter, thinner, more daring than the first. Gautham’s gaze traveled slowly over her bare body.
“Put it on,” he said.
“Now?”
“Yes, right now. He bought it, didn’t he? Wear it just for him.”
Geetha hesitated, a flicker of uncertainty crossing her face. She had planned to save this intimacy for Gautham alone tomorrow night.
“But I wanted this to be just with you…”
He silenced her with a finger against her lips, took the dress from her hands, and moved behind her. She lifted her arms obediently as he slipped it over her head. For a moment she paused.
“Wait—shouldn’t I wear anything underneath?”
“No need.”
He smoothed the fabric down over her hips. The thin material clung to her like mist, concealing nothing and revealing everything—every curve, every soft line of her fair skin enhanced rather than hidden. He turned her to face him and kissed her deeply.
When he pulled back, his eyes were slightly dazed. “You look sexy,” he said.
Color flooded her cheeks. She buried her face against his chest. “I don’t like these kinds of clothes,” she mumbled. “I only got it for you.”
“So what?” He kissed her cheek. “You showed it to me. You’re a treasure.”
“Mmm…”
She stepped to the mirror, biting her lip as she studied her reflection, then carefully tucked her wedding chain inside the neckline of the dress.
“I brought a saree,” she said quietly. “I thought I’d wear that.”
Gautham came up behind her, arms circling her waist. “Only here,” he murmured against her ear. “Even I wouldn’t like you wearing something like this in India.”
“That’s what I thought.”
She reached for her bangles, but he caught her wrist gently. “None of those are needed.”
“Okay…”
In the mirror, her creamy thighs gleamed beneath the short hem. A wave of heat rose through her own body; instinctively she tugged the dress lower.
Gautham’s hands settled on her hips. “Why are you still shy?”
“I don’t know…” She lowered her eyes. “He—Bharath—stares so intensely.”
“Don’t you feel that way when I look?”
His fingers gathered the front of the dress, lifting it slowly. In the mirror their reflections showed her intimate beauty, perfectly groomed and bare beneath the fabric. He bent and bit her neck with deliberate passion.
“Ouch!” She jolted, a soft cry escaping.
“You little devil,” he growled against her skin. “So you’re doing all this for him tonight?”
“This is the first time.”
He spun her around, gripped her waist, and lifted her effortlessly onto the bed. Pushing the dress up to her waist, he lowered his head between her thighs and kissed her tenderly.
“Ah… no!” She startled, trying to shift away.
“Not right now.”
“I’m not doing anything,” he murmured. “Can’t I just kiss you?”
“Mmm…”
He exhaled and stood. “Fine. I’ll go take a shower. Get dinner ready… and ask Bharath if he’s finished with his.”
“Okay,” she whispered, smoothing the dress back down as he left the room.
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Bharath trudged down the stairs, his hair tousled from sleep, clad in a rumpled sweatshirt and pajamas. Geetha and Gautham were already waiting for him in the living room.
The instant his eyes landed on Geetha, perched gracefully on the east-side sofa, his gaze sharpened, pupils dilating as if camera lens zooming in on a captivating subject. She looked effortlessly alluring in her black dress, the fabric clinging just enough to hint at the curves beneath.
![[Image: bTaRx.jpg]](https://s14.gifyu.com/images/bTaRx.jpg)
Gautham turned his neck, glancing at him with mild impatience. "What took you so long up there?"
Bharath said nothing, merely raising two fingers in a silent gesture—perhaps indicating he'd been caught up in something mundane, or maybe something more private.
Geetha broke the moment with a soft smile. "Okay, let's go have dinner."
The three of them rose and settled at the dining table, the aroma of home-cooked food filling the air.
"I didn't expect you to cook," Bharath remarked, his tone carrying a hint of surprise.
Geetha shrugged lightly. "We ate out this morning, so I just whipped up some dal and tomato charu. It was quick."
"Hmm..." Bharath murmured, his eyes lingering on her a fraction longer than necessary.
She served portions for each of them, then uncovered the bowl of steaming charu. As Bharath mixed his rice with dal, he stole a furtive glance at Geetha. Beneath the neckline of her black dress, the outline of her nipple pressed visibly against the thin fabric—no bra to conceal it. The realization hit him like a spark: she was wearing nothing underneath.
A heavy silence descended over the table as they began to eat. Beneath it, hidden from view, Bharath felt a growing discomfort in his pajamas, a stirring he tried to ignore.
Each time Geetha leaned forward to scoop a bite of rice, the shadows along her neckline teased deeper glimpses of her hidden beauty, fueling a hunger in Bharath that had little to do with the meal.
![[Image: bEuOa.jpg]](https://s12.gifyu.com/images/bEuOa.jpg)
When her eyes lifted and met his, he quickly averted his gaze. Geetha noticed the quiet among them and smiled inwardly, continuing to eat with composed grace.
Gautham sensed it too but chose to stay silent.
As his plate neared empty, Gautham spoke up. "Pass me some curd."
Geetha obliged, serving him a generous portion. He sprinkled a pinch of salt, mixed in a splash of water, and stirred.
Assuming Bharath was finishing as well, Gautham teased lightly, "Have some more—there's plenty of curd left."
Geetha interjected smoothly, "He doesn't eat curd."
"Oh... there's always one in every house," Gautham chuckled. "Our Ammu doesn't eat it either, right?"
"Hmm, yes," Geetha agreed, her voice warm with familial affection.
Curiosity sparked in Bharath. "Who is Ammu?"
"Your teacher's younger sister," Gautham explained.
"Oh, right. She mentioned it once—I forgot," Bharath said, nodding.
Gautham continued, "She's in tenth grade too. A class topper."
"O..."
Geetha cut in, a touch of protectiveness in her tone. "Is it really necessary to mention she's a topper? Are you mocking him to make him study harder?"
"I just said it casually—that wasn't my intention," Gautham defended with a grin.
"Fine... but why always these topics at the dinner table? Studies, career, business..." Geetha sighed, exasperation creeping in.
Bharath nodded in agreement. "Exactly, Miss. My dad is the same. The moment we sit down to eat, he launches into a lecture about studying and not wandering around like a vagabond."
Gautham laughed. "What is this? Are you angry because I praised your sister, or because you find my advice nagging?"
Geetha shot back playfully, "Of course. You praise your sister-in-law plenty, but that 'ghost' of a girl didn't even wish her own sister a happy birthday. When Mom and Dad called, they said she was still asleep. The whole day has passed back home!"
She made a face, clearly irked with her younger sister.
Bharath couldn't help but laugh. "Is there a fight between the sisters?"
Gautham shook his head. "No, nothing like that. Let's call her right now."
"No need. I'll deal with her when I get home," Geetha protested.
But Gautham dialed anyway, putting the phone on speaker as Ammu answered promptly.
"Brother-in-law, give the phone to sister," Ammu's voice chirped through the speaker.
"Your sister is fuming here," Gautham teased.
Geetha rose to take her plate to the washbasin, but Gautham caught her hand gently, pulling her back down. "Talk to her first," he insisted.
She sat with a stubborn pout, arms crossed.
"Happy Birthday, Akka..." Ammu said sweetly.
Geetha softened, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Thank you."
"I forgot—please forgive me."
"Your brother-in-law is here calling you a topper. Did you forget that too, you ghost?"
"Sorry, Akka."
"Hmm, okay."
"Actually, I should be the one who's angry," Ammu countered. "How could you leave me and go off to Canada? You didn't even think about your sister having holidays and being bored at home."
Gautham jumped in: "Exactly, Ammu."
"I'm not talking to sister—I'm cutting ties with you, Brother-in-law!"
Bharath covered his mouth, chuckling quietly at the banter.
"Why?" Gautham feigned hurt.
"If you don't take me along, I’ll finish off all your property!"
"Hey girl, you're talking too much," Geetha warned.
"It's fine. Don't come between a brother-in-law and his sister-in-law."
Gautham pleaded dramatically, "Forgive me, Ammu. We'll go on a different trip later—after your results come out, okay? What's even there in Canada anyway?"
"Sure, now that my sister is there, you’ll say anything."
"Hey, do you realize you're wishing me a day late? Mom and Dad called this morning."
"No, Akka! I told Dad specifically that I wanted to wish you according to Canada time."
"Yeah, but you forgot to wish me then too, didn't you? Shameless."
Ammu laughed. "Hahaha..."
"What is Mom doing?"
"I don't know, Akka. I just woke up."
"No college? Sleeping until the sun is high?"
"Yeah, I'm sleeping. What's it to you?"
"Just wait. Once the results are out, I'll get you married off, girl."
"Oh? As if you're the one to decide my marriage!"
"Aha... that’s enough now."
As the playful exchange unfolded, a shadow crossed Bharath's face. The lighthearted family teasing stirred something deeper in him—a pang of longing, perhaps, for the closeness they shared. He stood abruptly, heading to the washbasin to rinse his hands. There, under the running water, he wiped his face and hands with a towel, subtly brushing away the moisture gathering in his eyes.
Geetha approached with her plate and caught the gesture—Bharath wiping his eyes.
"We thought about bringing her because you were coming too, but..." she began softly, trailing off.
"Hmm..." Bharath murmured, turning to leave.
She reached out, stopping him gently. "What happened, Bharath?"
"Nothing, Miss," he replied, his voice steady but distant, as he walked away to sink into the sofa.
Geetha watched him go, her expression softening with understanding. She knew exactly why the melancholy had settled over him so suddenly—the warmth of their family bond had brushed against a tender, unspoken ache in his own heart.
.
.
.
.
.
The bedroom door opened quietly, and Gautham stepped in, crossing to the cupboard without a word. He pulled out a flat, glossy cover, unzipped it, and drew out a sleek black dress. He held it up for her inspection, the sticker on the plastic showing a model wearing it like a second skin.
“How is it?” he asked.
Geetha glanced at the image, then back at him. “Do I have to wear it now?”
“No,” he said with a small smile. “I meant for the party tomorrow.”
She rose from the edge of the bed, took the dress from his hands, and laid it carefully beside her. “It’s nice,” she admitted, “but I don’t really like wearing things like this to parties.”
“What, you’re going to wear a saree?” Gautham teased. “This is Montreal, not Karimnagar or Mancherial.”
She stepped closer, sliding her hands around his waist. “Tell me,” she murmured, looking up at him. “Should I wear it now? I’ll wear whatever you ask me to.”
Gautham’s eyes darkened slightly. “For now,” he said, voice low, “don’t wear anything.”
A shy smile curved her lips. She loosened the knot of her towel and let it fall, standing naked before her husband. Her body—soft, fair, and curved like a sculpture molded from fresh cream—pressed against him as she rose on her toes to kiss the underside of his chin.
“Okay?” she whispered.
“Not okay,” he replied, though his hands were already on her hips. “Get ready. Let’s have dinner and then cut the cake.”
Geetha hummed thoughtfully. “Hmm… before coming here, Bharath bought a black dress too. He said if I wore it in front of you, you’d get into the mood.”
Gautham lifted an eyebrow. “Oh really? Show me.”
She turned, moving with unhurried grace, her nakedness on full display as she bent to retrieve another cover from her suitcase. The motion drew a playful slap from Gautham across her left buttock.
“Ouch!” She straightened quickly, rubbing the spot, the cover clutched to her chest. “That hard? It stings!”
He laughed. “Should I hit you again?”
“Uh-huh,” she shook her head, eyes dancing.
She unzipped the second cover and held up the dress Bharath had chosen—shorter, thinner, more daring than the first. Gautham’s gaze traveled slowly over her bare body.
“Put it on,” he said.
“Now?”
“Yes, right now. He bought it, didn’t he? Wear it just for him.”
Geetha hesitated, a flicker of uncertainty crossing her face. She had planned to save this intimacy for Gautham alone tomorrow night.
“But I wanted this to be just with you…”
He silenced her with a finger against her lips, took the dress from her hands, and moved behind her. She lifted her arms obediently as he slipped it over her head. For a moment she paused.
“Wait—shouldn’t I wear anything underneath?”
“No need.”
He smoothed the fabric down over her hips. The thin material clung to her like mist, concealing nothing and revealing everything—every curve, every soft line of her fair skin enhanced rather than hidden. He turned her to face him and kissed her deeply.
When he pulled back, his eyes were slightly dazed. “You look sexy,” he said.
Color flooded her cheeks. She buried her face against his chest. “I don’t like these kinds of clothes,” she mumbled. “I only got it for you.”
“So what?” He kissed her cheek. “You showed it to me. You’re a treasure.”
“Mmm…”
She stepped to the mirror, biting her lip as she studied her reflection, then carefully tucked her wedding chain inside the neckline of the dress.
“I brought a saree,” she said quietly. “I thought I’d wear that.”
Gautham came up behind her, arms circling her waist. “Only here,” he murmured against her ear. “Even I wouldn’t like you wearing something like this in India.”
“That’s what I thought.”
She reached for her bangles, but he caught her wrist gently. “None of those are needed.”
“Okay…”
In the mirror, her creamy thighs gleamed beneath the short hem. A wave of heat rose through her own body; instinctively she tugged the dress lower.
Gautham’s hands settled on her hips. “Why are you still shy?”
“I don’t know…” She lowered her eyes. “He—Bharath—stares so intensely.”
“Don’t you feel that way when I look?”
His fingers gathered the front of the dress, lifting it slowly. In the mirror their reflections showed her intimate beauty, perfectly groomed and bare beneath the fabric. He bent and bit her neck with deliberate passion.
“Ouch!” She jolted, a soft cry escaping.
“You little devil,” he growled against her skin. “So you’re doing all this for him tonight?”
“This is the first time.”
He spun her around, gripped her waist, and lifted her effortlessly onto the bed. Pushing the dress up to her waist, he lowered his head between her thighs and kissed her tenderly.
“Ah… no!” She startled, trying to shift away.
“Not right now.”
“I’m not doing anything,” he murmured. “Can’t I just kiss you?”
“Mmm…”
He exhaled and stood. “Fine. I’ll go take a shower. Get dinner ready… and ask Bharath if he’s finished with his.”
“Okay,” she whispered, smoothing the dress back down as he left the room.
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Bharath trudged down the stairs, his hair tousled from sleep, clad in a rumpled sweatshirt and pajamas. Geetha and Gautham were already waiting for him in the living room.
The instant his eyes landed on Geetha, perched gracefully on the east-side sofa, his gaze sharpened, pupils dilating as if camera lens zooming in on a captivating subject. She looked effortlessly alluring in her black dress, the fabric clinging just enough to hint at the curves beneath.
Gautham turned his neck, glancing at him with mild impatience. "What took you so long up there?"
Bharath said nothing, merely raising two fingers in a silent gesture—perhaps indicating he'd been caught up in something mundane, or maybe something more private.
Geetha broke the moment with a soft smile. "Okay, let's go have dinner."
The three of them rose and settled at the dining table, the aroma of home-cooked food filling the air.
"I didn't expect you to cook," Bharath remarked, his tone carrying a hint of surprise.
Geetha shrugged lightly. "We ate out this morning, so I just whipped up some dal and tomato charu. It was quick."
"Hmm..." Bharath murmured, his eyes lingering on her a fraction longer than necessary.
She served portions for each of them, then uncovered the bowl of steaming charu. As Bharath mixed his rice with dal, he stole a furtive glance at Geetha. Beneath the neckline of her black dress, the outline of her nipple pressed visibly against the thin fabric—no bra to conceal it. The realization hit him like a spark: she was wearing nothing underneath.
A heavy silence descended over the table as they began to eat. Beneath it, hidden from view, Bharath felt a growing discomfort in his pajamas, a stirring he tried to ignore.
Each time Geetha leaned forward to scoop a bite of rice, the shadows along her neckline teased deeper glimpses of her hidden beauty, fueling a hunger in Bharath that had little to do with the meal.
When her eyes lifted and met his, he quickly averted his gaze. Geetha noticed the quiet among them and smiled inwardly, continuing to eat with composed grace.
Gautham sensed it too but chose to stay silent.
As his plate neared empty, Gautham spoke up. "Pass me some curd."
Geetha obliged, serving him a generous portion. He sprinkled a pinch of salt, mixed in a splash of water, and stirred.
Assuming Bharath was finishing as well, Gautham teased lightly, "Have some more—there's plenty of curd left."
Geetha interjected smoothly, "He doesn't eat curd."
"Oh... there's always one in every house," Gautham chuckled. "Our Ammu doesn't eat it either, right?"
"Hmm, yes," Geetha agreed, her voice warm with familial affection.
Curiosity sparked in Bharath. "Who is Ammu?"
"Your teacher's younger sister," Gautham explained.
"Oh, right. She mentioned it once—I forgot," Bharath said, nodding.
Gautham continued, "She's in tenth grade too. A class topper."
"O..."
Geetha cut in, a touch of protectiveness in her tone. "Is it really necessary to mention she's a topper? Are you mocking him to make him study harder?"
"I just said it casually—that wasn't my intention," Gautham defended with a grin.
"Fine... but why always these topics at the dinner table? Studies, career, business..." Geetha sighed, exasperation creeping in.
Bharath nodded in agreement. "Exactly, Miss. My dad is the same. The moment we sit down to eat, he launches into a lecture about studying and not wandering around like a vagabond."
Gautham laughed. "What is this? Are you angry because I praised your sister, or because you find my advice nagging?"
Geetha shot back playfully, "Of course. You praise your sister-in-law plenty, but that 'ghost' of a girl didn't even wish her own sister a happy birthday. When Mom and Dad called, they said she was still asleep. The whole day has passed back home!"
She made a face, clearly irked with her younger sister.
Bharath couldn't help but laugh. "Is there a fight between the sisters?"
Gautham shook his head. "No, nothing like that. Let's call her right now."
"No need. I'll deal with her when I get home," Geetha protested.
But Gautham dialed anyway, putting the phone on speaker as Ammu answered promptly.
"Brother-in-law, give the phone to sister," Ammu's voice chirped through the speaker.
"Your sister is fuming here," Gautham teased.
Geetha rose to take her plate to the washbasin, but Gautham caught her hand gently, pulling her back down. "Talk to her first," he insisted.
She sat with a stubborn pout, arms crossed.
"Happy Birthday, Akka..." Ammu said sweetly.
Geetha softened, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Thank you."
"I forgot—please forgive me."
"Your brother-in-law is here calling you a topper. Did you forget that too, you ghost?"
"Sorry, Akka."
"Hmm, okay."
"Actually, I should be the one who's angry," Ammu countered. "How could you leave me and go off to Canada? You didn't even think about your sister having holidays and being bored at home."
Gautham jumped in: "Exactly, Ammu."
"I'm not talking to sister—I'm cutting ties with you, Brother-in-law!"
Bharath covered his mouth, chuckling quietly at the banter.
"Why?" Gautham feigned hurt.
"If you don't take me along, I’ll finish off all your property!"
"Hey girl, you're talking too much," Geetha warned.
"It's fine. Don't come between a brother-in-law and his sister-in-law."
Gautham pleaded dramatically, "Forgive me, Ammu. We'll go on a different trip later—after your results come out, okay? What's even there in Canada anyway?"
"Sure, now that my sister is there, you’ll say anything."
"Hey, do you realize you're wishing me a day late? Mom and Dad called this morning."
"No, Akka! I told Dad specifically that I wanted to wish you according to Canada time."
"Yeah, but you forgot to wish me then too, didn't you? Shameless."
Ammu laughed. "Hahaha..."
"What is Mom doing?"
"I don't know, Akka. I just woke up."
"No college? Sleeping until the sun is high?"
"Yeah, I'm sleeping. What's it to you?"
"Just wait. Once the results are out, I'll get you married off, girl."
"Oh? As if you're the one to decide my marriage!"
"Aha... that’s enough now."
As the playful exchange unfolded, a shadow crossed Bharath's face. The lighthearted family teasing stirred something deeper in him—a pang of longing, perhaps, for the closeness they shared. He stood abruptly, heading to the washbasin to rinse his hands. There, under the running water, he wiped his face and hands with a towel, subtly brushing away the moisture gathering in his eyes.
Geetha approached with her plate and caught the gesture—Bharath wiping his eyes.
"We thought about bringing her because you were coming too, but..." she began softly, trailing off.
"Hmm..." Bharath murmured, turning to leave.
She reached out, stopping him gently. "What happened, Bharath?"
"Nothing, Miss," he replied, his voice steady but distant, as he walked away to sink into the sofa.
Geetha watched him go, her expression softening with understanding. She knew exactly why the melancholy had settled over him so suddenly—the warmth of their family bond had brushed against a tender, unspoken ache in his own heart.
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