Adultery The Forbidden Relief – My Wife's Secret

[doodhwale_bhaiya]

 
Girls Talk….a lot
 
The moment Ravi disappeared into the crowd, Simran leaned across the table toward Preeti, eyes bright with curiosity and a hint of mischief. 
 
“Preeti,” she said, voice low but urgent, “Shikha tells me you guys have planned for Arjun to be the donor.”
 
Preeti’s eyes widened, then narrowed playfully as she caught on. She set her vodka soda down with a soft clink. 
 
“So that’s why you forced that innocent man on a goose chase? Is there even Shahid Kapoor here?” she asked, half-shocked, half-amused, a wide smile breaking across her face.
 
Simran bit her lip, trying (and failing) to look innocent. “Of course… not. We wanted to discuss before we tell Ravi. You know, with the men around.”
 
Shikha laughed softly, leaning back in her seat, crimson dress shifting over her hips. “Exactly. Some conversations need girl time first.”
 
Preeti shook her head, still grinning. “You two are evil. I just told Ravi we were planning for a baby, and he was probably about to ask ‘how’ when you both sent him on a celebrity hunt. Poor man’s out there looking for hoodies and dimples.”
 
Simran giggled, then sobered slightly, leaning in closer. “Preeti… now tell me what you’ve thought. Arjun, huh?”
 
Preeti exhaled, glancing between the two women before settling her gaze on Simran. She took a small sip of her drink, buying a second to organize her thoughts, then spoke quietly but clearly, voice cutting through the club’s background hum.
 
“Okay. Look… we didn’t decide this overnight. It’s been months of talking, crying, laughing, everything. Shikha wants to carry—she’s always been clear about that. And I support her completely. We looked at anonymous donors first—profiles, health records, the whole medical checklist. But the more we read, the more it felt… cold. Like picking a stranger’s DNA from a catalogue.”
 
She paused, letting that sink in.
 
“Then Arjun came up. Not randomly—he’s been in our orbit for years. Shikha’s old colleague, remember? We’ve known him socially, professionally. He’s from Ludhiana originally, good Punjabi family, clean background. No red flags in his health history—tested clean for everything, genetic screening perfect, sperm count and motility excellent. Physically? He’s tall, strong, good bone structure, sharp features. No major illnesses in the family line. And emotionally… he’s steady. Kind. The kind of man who remembers birthdays and helps without being asked.”
 
Preeti’s voice softened, but her eyes stayed steady.
 
“We talked to him—openly. Told him exactly what we wanted: donor sperm, no strings, no involvement beyond that. He thought about it for weeks, asked questions, got his own tests done again just to be sure. He agreed because he wants to help friends start a family. Nothing more. No rights, no contact, no drama. It’s all legal paperwork, signed and sealed.”
 
Shikha nodded, adding quietly, “We trust him. That matters more than any anonymous profile.”
 
Simran listened, fingers tracing the rim of her glass. “And you’re okay with it, Preeti? Knowing the baby will have… him in the genes?”
 
Preeti smiled, small and sure. “More than okay. It feels right. Safer. And honestly? If our kid gets even half of his height and half of Shikha’s smile, we’re winning.”
 
The three women sat in a pocket of quiet amid the club’s chaos, the weight of the conversation settling comfortably between them.
 
Simran exhaled, a soft smile curving her lips. “You two… you’re really doing this.”
 
Preeti raised her glass. “We are.”
 
Shikha clinked hers against it. “And when Ravi gets back, we’ll tell him properly. Together.”

Simran leaned even closer across the table, her emerald dress shifting slightly, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. 
“Preeti… how is it going to happen? Like… practically?”
 
Preeti’s eyes sparkled with wicked amusement. She took a slow sip of her vodka soda, letting the question hang for a dramatic second before answering. 
“Simmu, you horny little slut. You want to know every dirty detail, don’t you?” 
 
Simran’s cheeks flushed instantly, but she didn’t back down, biting her lip with a shy grin. 
 
Preeti laughed softly, then tilted her head toward Shikha. “Ask her. She’ll explain. It’s her body, her choice.”
 
Shikha smiled, calm and confident, leaning back so her crimson dress pulled tight across her lush hips. She spoke in a low, steady voice, eyes locked on Simran’s. 
 
“It’s simple, really. Arjun will come to our house one evening. Preeti will be there too—of course. We’ll keep it clinical, comfortable. No drama, no romance. Just… the act. He’ll provide the sample in the usual way, we’ll use a syringe or turkey baster for insemination. Timing it with my ovulation window. That’s it. Clean, quick, done.”
 
Simran’s breath caught. Her eyes widened, a mix of shock and fascination flickering across her face. 
“Can I… also see?” 
 
Preeti and Shikha answered in perfect unison, voices overlapping with mock sternness: 
“No.” 
 
The word came out so fast and firm that all three women burst into laughter—bright, unrestrained, heads thrown back. Simran covered her mouth, giggling helplessly, the tension breaking like a wave.