27-01-2026, 02:31 AM
Govindan reached out suddenly, grabbed both my hands in his rough palms, and pulled my arms up and around his thick neck. He wrapped my arms tight around him, then hugged me completely into his embrace, crushing my boobs against his fat chest over my yellow blouse, the mangalsutra trapped between us. His arms locked around my waist, hands sliding down to grab my ass cheeks over the yellow saree, squeezing hard, his huge cock bulge in his white dhoti rubbing against my navel and lower belly through the yellow petticoat and yellow saree.
He turned his head toward Dhamu, still holding me tight in his embrace, voice low and bold. “Look at her, Dhamu. Such a perfect wife. If she lets me sleep with her, lets me fuck her pussy now, I will save Shiva. I will call the MLA right now, cancel the encounter, wipe every case clean. One fuck with this hot Tamil wife, and her rowdy husband lives.”
I struggled in his grip, arms still wrapped around his neck by force, boobs crushed against him, nipples poking hard over the yellow blouse from the unwanted contact. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I begged, voice breaking. “No, sir, please. Anything else. I will do anything else for you. Work for you, serve you, beg on my knees, but not that. Save my husband’s life. Save him from the cop encounter. Our sons need him. Please, sir, do not ask this. I am loyal to my husband. I love him.”
Govindan ignored my pleas completely. He lowered his head and began kissing my neck all over, wet sloppy kisses trailing from my earlobe down the side of my neck, tongue licking the sensitive skin, teeth grazing lightly, his breath hot and heavy. His hands squeezed my ass cheeks harder over the yellow saree, pulling me tighter so his cock bulge ground against my pussy area through all the layers.
Dhamu stepped closer, eyes still lusting at my boobs under the yellow blouse, his own cock bulge throbbing in his lungi. He spoke softly, voice thick with conflict but pushing. “Akka, please listen. Shiva anna will die if this does not happen. Govindan sir can save him with one call. One fuck, akka. Just now. Let him fuck you. Save anna’s life. The boys need their father. Think of them.”
I shook my head frantically, tears falling faster, body trembling in Govindan’s embrace as he kept kissing my neck, sucking lightly on the spot where my pulse raced. “No, Dhamu. I cannot. I love my husband. I am loyal to him. My pussy belongs only to him. Please, sir, anything else. Save him without this. I beg you.”
Govindan chuckled against my neck, tongue tracing a slow line up to my earlobe, one hand sliding up to grab my boob over the yellow blouse, squeezing roughly. “Keep begging, Meena. Your loyalty makes it sweeter. But your husband dies tomorrow unless you say yes. Decide fast.”
Dhamu pleaded again, voice cracking. “Akka, please. For Shiva anna. For the boys. Let him sleep with you. Let him fuck you now. It is only one time. Save him.”
I struggled harder, arms still forced around Govindan’s neck, pussy clenching in fear and unwanted heat under the maroon panties, yellow petticoat, and yellow saree, boobs crushed and groped, neck wet from his kisses, emotional fool heart tearing apart between loyalty to my husband and the desperate need to keep him alive for our sons. “No... please... save him... anything but this... I love him... I cannot...” My voice broke into sobs, body shaking, torn and desperate.
Govindan kept his arms locked around my waist, hands gripping my hips over the yellow saree, fingers digging into the soft flesh above the yellow petticoat knot. He pulled me even tighter against his body, his hard cock bulge in the white dhoti rubbing insistently against my lower belly through all the layers. He lowered his head again and began kissing my face all over: wet kisses on my forehead over the kumkum dot, on my kajal-lined eyelids, on my cheeks, on my red lips, tongue darting out to lick the corners of my mouth, breath hot and heavy with lust.
Between kisses he spoke boldly against my face. “I am giving you this chance only because you are so beautiful, Meena. So hot, so sexy. Look at you, dressed like this, jasmine in your hair, sindoor in your parting, gold on your body. A woman this hot should use her beauty wisely. Make full use of your beautiful face, your boobs, your ass cheeks, your pussy. Use them to save your husband. One fuck with me now, and he lives. Refuse, and he dies tomorrow.”
With one hand still gripping my waist, he used the other to tug the yellow saree pallu slowly away from where it covered my boobs. He dragged the pallu aside, letting it fall and rest between my boobs, the yellow saree material bunching in my deep cleavage, exposing my boobs fully under the tight yellow blouse. The mangalsutra now lay openly between my boobs, pendant resting on the yellow blouse fabric stretched taut over my mounds, nipples poking hard over the yellow blouse.
Govindan ogled my boobs shamelessly, eyes dark with hunger, mouth watering again. “Look at these boobs, Meena. So full, so round, pushing against that yellow blouse like they want to be freed. Nipples hard over the yellow blouse, begging for attention. Perfect boobs for squeezing, sucking, fucking. Use them, Meena. Offer them to me now, and your husband walks free.”
Dhamu stood frozen to my right, eyes locked on my exposed boobs under the yellow blouse, nipples visible as hard points over the yellow blouse, his cock bulge throbbing painfully in his lungi. He swallowed hard, voice hoarse. “Akka... please... Shiva anna will die. Just let sir fuck you now. Save him. For the boys. For anna.”
I struggled weakly in Govindan’s embrace, arms still forced around his neck, boobs crushed against his chest, pussy clenching in fear and shame under the maroon panties, yellow petticoat, and yellow saree. Tears poured down my face as I begged again, voice breaking. “Sir, please. Save my husband. Save him from the cop encounter. I will do anything else. I will work for you, serve you, give you money, anything but this. I am loyal to my husband. I love him. Do not ask me to betray him. Please, sir, save his life.”
Govindan ignored my pleas, kissing my cheeks again, then my lips roughly, tongue pushing against my closed mouth while one hand slid up to grab my boob over the yellow blouse, squeezing hard. “Your loyalty is touching, Meena. But your husband dies unless you let me fuck you now. Decide. Your pussy or his grave.”
I sobbed harder, body shaking, emotional fool heart tearing apart, loyal to my husband yet trapped in this ugly man’s arms, boobs groped, pussy throbbing with fear, begging through tears. “No... please... save him... anything but my body... I love him... do not make me...” My voice dissolved into broken cries, torn between fidelity and the desperate need to keep my husband alive for our sons.
Govindan tightened his grip on my waist, pulling me harder against his body, his cock bulge in the white dhoti grinding roughly against my navel through the yellow saree and yellow petticoat. He leaned in suddenly, trying to kiss my lips, mouth open and wet, breath hot and sour. I turned my face away quickly, pushing against his chest over his white shirt with both hands, arms still forced around his neck but straining to break free.
He froze for a second, then anger flashed across his ugly face. He shoved me back slightly, not letting go completely, voice rising loud and furious. “How dare you insult me, you slum bitch? You come here begging, dressed like a whore with your boobs hanging out and your ass cheeks jiggling, and now you push me away? I was going to make one call and save your rowdy husband. Now I will make sure the cops encounter him today itself. He dies tonight. You hear me? Tonight!”
Terror exploded in my chest, knees buckling, tears flooding my eyes instantly. My pussy clenched in pure fear under the maroon panties, yellow petticoat, and yellow saree, boobs heaving wildly under the yellow blouse, nipples poking hard over the yellow blouse from panic and sobs. “No, sir, please! Do not do this! I am sorry! Save him! Please, sir, do not kill him! My sons... they need their father! Please, I beg you!”
Govindan stepped back fully now, face twisted with rage, pointing at the door. “Get out! Both of you! Get the fuck out of my office before I call security and have you thrown out like street dogs!”
I collapsed into helpless crying, body shaking, hands covering my face, mangalsutra swinging between my boobs as sobs wracked me. “Please... sir... save him... do not let them kill him... I am sorry...”
Dhamu rushed forward, voice desperate. “Sir, please calm down! Do not get angry! She is scared, sir. She did not mean to insult you. Shiva anna will die if you do this. Please, sir, think again.”
Govindan’s voice boomed louder, furious. “I said get out! Or I call security right now! Chase you both out like beggars! And you, Meena, you think you are special? I have fucked all the top heroines in Tamil cinema. Actresses with better boobs, tighter pussy, bigger names. I asked to fuck you just for a little fun, because you look hot in this yellow saree, but now you touched my ego. You insulted me! Your husband dies today because of your arrogance!”
Dhamu grabbed my arm gently but firmly, pulling me toward the door while I cried uncontrollably, boobs bouncing under the yellow blouse with each sob, pussy throbbing with terror under the layers. “Akka, come. We have to leave. Sir is angry. Come.”
Govindan yelled after us as Dhamu dragged me out of the office room. “Go! Let the cops shoot him! Tell your sons their mother was too proud to save their father!”
The door slammed behind us. I stumbled in the corridor, crying helplessly, knees weak, mangalsutra sticky with tears against my boobs, pussy aching with grief and fear, emotional fool heart shattered, knowing my refusal might have just signed my husband’s death warrant. Dhamu held my arm, guiding me out of the building, his own face pale, cock bulge gone now, replaced by worry and guilt as we left the office behind, my desperate plea turned into a nightmare.
I stumbled out of the office building, tears blinding me, body shaking with sobs. My boobs heaved under the yellow blouse, nipples poking hard over the yellow blouse from the cold shock and grief, mangalsutra swinging wildly between my boobs with every broken step. The yellow saree pallu slipped lower, exposing more of my cleavage and navel, but I did not care. My pussy clenched in despair under the maroon panties, yellow petticoat, and yellow saree, legs weak as I walked toward the auto parked at the gate.
Dhamu followed close behind, face dark with anger. He grabbed my arm gently but firmly, pulling me to a stop. “Akka, what have you done? You screwed up the only chance we had! Shiva anna is as good as dead now! You pushed him away! You insulted Govindan sir! He was ready to save anna with one phone call, and you ruined it!”
His voice rose, polite but yelling in frustration, eyes flashing. “Akka, why? Why could you not just agree? One time with him, and anna lives! The boys get their father back! But you had to be loyal, had to be proud. Now what? Cops will shoot him today or tomorrow. You killed him, akka!”
I cried harder, collapsing against the auto side, boobs pressing against the metal edge through the yellow blouse, tears soaking the yellow saree pallu. “I could not, Dhamu... I love him... I cannot give myself to another man... I am loyal to my husband... please... there must be another way...”
Dhamu sighed heavily, anger mixing with pity. “Get in the auto, akka. We cannot stand here crying.”
I climbed into the back seat, yellow saree and yellow petticoat bunching around my thighs, maroon panties damp from fear and tears. I sat hunched, boobs still heaving with sobs, mangalsutra sticky against my wet cleavage. Dhamu sat in the driver’s seat, turned back to look at me through the small mirror, voice softer now but still edged with frustration.
“Akka, listen to me. Govindan sir was our last hope. You saw his anger. He will make sure the encounter happens fast now. Shiva anna... he trusted me to protect you, but I failed. You failed him too. What do we do now? Tell me. The boys are waiting at home. How will you face them without their father?”
I covered my face with both hands, sobbing uncontrollably, boobs bouncing with each cry under the yellow blouse, pussy aching with guilt and terror under the layers. “I do not know... I love him so much... I could not let that man touch me... but now... now he will die... because of me... please, Dhamu... help me... find another way... save my husband...”
Dhamu stared at me in the mirror, eyes conflicted, voice low. “Akka, there is no other way. You saw him. His ego is hurt. He will not help now. Unless... unless you go back and apologize, do what he wants. Let him have you now. It is the only way left.”
I shook my head violently, tears flying. “No... I cannot... I love my husband... I belong only to him... please... find another way...”
The auto sat silent except for my broken sobs, Dhamu turned back facing the road now, hands gripping the handlebars tight, both of us lost in fear and regret, my loyal heart shattered, knowing my refusal might have doomed the rowdy husband I loved more than life itself.
Dhamu started the auto engine, the vehicle jerking forward slowly through the narrow Chennai lanes. He drove in silence for a minute, then turned his head back again, eyes meeting mine in the small mirror. His voice came low, careful but firm, carrying the weight of reality.
“Akka, look at yourself. You are hot. You are sexy. Every man who sees you wants to fuck you. Your boobs so full and heavy under that yellow blouse, nipples always poking hard over the yellow blouse when you breathe fast. Your ass cheeks round and jiggling under the yellow saree, panty line visible over your ass cheeks over the saree every time you walk. Your navel deep and exposed, hips wide and swaying. Even the boys from Shiva anna’s own gang lust after you. They stare at your boobs when you pass, whisper about how they would love to grab your ass cheeks, spread your thighs, shove their cock into your pussy. They respect anna, so they never act, but they want you badly. You know it. Every rowdy in the slum wants to fuck you.”
I cried harder, hands covering my face, boobs shaking with sobs under the yellow blouse, mangalsutra sticky against my wet cleavage. “Dhamu... stop... I love my husband... I cannot think like that...”
He kept talking, voice steady, turning back every few seconds to look at me. “Akka, sex is nothing. It is just exchange of pleasure. Bodies meeting for a few minutes. A cock going in and out of a pussy. Moans, sweat, release. Nothing more. It does not take your love for anna. It does not change who you belong to in your heart. It is just flesh doing what flesh does. One time, akka. One short exchange of pleasure with Govindan sir, and Shiva anna lives. You keep your husband. The boys keep their father. That is all.”
I shook my head, tears falling onto my boobs over the yellow blouse, voice choked. “But... it feels like betrayal... I promised him... only him...”
Dhamu slowed the auto at a signal, turned fully to face me, eyes serious. “Akka, listen. Fifteen minutes. That is all. Fifteen minutes of giving pleasure to Govindan sir. Let him touch your boobs, squeeze them, kiss your neck, put his cock in your pussy. Let him cum inside you. Fifteen minutes, and Shiva anna comes home safe. No more hiding. No more fear of encounter. He will hold you again, fuck you again, be father to the boys. Do this for him. Do this for your sons. They are waiting at home, asking when appa will come back. Do you want to tell them their father is dead because you said no to fifteen minutes? Think of their faces, akka. Think of them growing up without him. Fifteen minutes, akka. That is all it takes to save him.”
My sobs quieted slowly, chest aching, pussy clenching under the maroon panties, yellow petticoat, and yellow saree from the weight of his words. I thought of my three sons, their small faces, their questions about appa. I thought of my husband hiding in that hut, waiting for death. Loyalty warred with love for my children, with fear of losing everything. Tears kept falling, but my voice came out small, broken.
“Fifteen minutes... only that... for him... for the boys...”
Dhamu nodded, voice gentle now. “Yes, akka. Just fifteen minutes. Let Govindan sir have you now. Save Shiva anna. Save your family.”
I stared out the auto window, boobs still heaving under the yellow blouse, mangalsutra heavy between them, emotional fool heart cracking open. After a long silence, I whispered through tears. “Okay... take me back... I will do it... for my husband... for my sons...”
Dhamu exhaled in relief, turned the auto around sharply, engine roaring as we headed back toward Govindan’s office, my decision made in despair and love, ready to give my body for fifteen minutes to save the rowdy husband I adored, the father of my children, the only man whose cock I ever wanted inside my pussy until this moment.
He turned his head toward Dhamu, still holding me tight in his embrace, voice low and bold. “Look at her, Dhamu. Such a perfect wife. If she lets me sleep with her, lets me fuck her pussy now, I will save Shiva. I will call the MLA right now, cancel the encounter, wipe every case clean. One fuck with this hot Tamil wife, and her rowdy husband lives.”
I struggled in his grip, arms still wrapped around his neck by force, boobs crushed against him, nipples poking hard over the yellow blouse from the unwanted contact. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I begged, voice breaking. “No, sir, please. Anything else. I will do anything else for you. Work for you, serve you, beg on my knees, but not that. Save my husband’s life. Save him from the cop encounter. Our sons need him. Please, sir, do not ask this. I am loyal to my husband. I love him.”
Govindan ignored my pleas completely. He lowered his head and began kissing my neck all over, wet sloppy kisses trailing from my earlobe down the side of my neck, tongue licking the sensitive skin, teeth grazing lightly, his breath hot and heavy. His hands squeezed my ass cheeks harder over the yellow saree, pulling me tighter so his cock bulge ground against my pussy area through all the layers.
Dhamu stepped closer, eyes still lusting at my boobs under the yellow blouse, his own cock bulge throbbing in his lungi. He spoke softly, voice thick with conflict but pushing. “Akka, please listen. Shiva anna will die if this does not happen. Govindan sir can save him with one call. One fuck, akka. Just now. Let him fuck you. Save anna’s life. The boys need their father. Think of them.”
I shook my head frantically, tears falling faster, body trembling in Govindan’s embrace as he kept kissing my neck, sucking lightly on the spot where my pulse raced. “No, Dhamu. I cannot. I love my husband. I am loyal to him. My pussy belongs only to him. Please, sir, anything else. Save him without this. I beg you.”
Govindan chuckled against my neck, tongue tracing a slow line up to my earlobe, one hand sliding up to grab my boob over the yellow blouse, squeezing roughly. “Keep begging, Meena. Your loyalty makes it sweeter. But your husband dies tomorrow unless you say yes. Decide fast.”
Dhamu pleaded again, voice cracking. “Akka, please. For Shiva anna. For the boys. Let him sleep with you. Let him fuck you now. It is only one time. Save him.”
I struggled harder, arms still forced around Govindan’s neck, pussy clenching in fear and unwanted heat under the maroon panties, yellow petticoat, and yellow saree, boobs crushed and groped, neck wet from his kisses, emotional fool heart tearing apart between loyalty to my husband and the desperate need to keep him alive for our sons. “No... please... save him... anything but this... I love him... I cannot...” My voice broke into sobs, body shaking, torn and desperate.
Govindan kept his arms locked around my waist, hands gripping my hips over the yellow saree, fingers digging into the soft flesh above the yellow petticoat knot. He pulled me even tighter against his body, his hard cock bulge in the white dhoti rubbing insistently against my lower belly through all the layers. He lowered his head again and began kissing my face all over: wet kisses on my forehead over the kumkum dot, on my kajal-lined eyelids, on my cheeks, on my red lips, tongue darting out to lick the corners of my mouth, breath hot and heavy with lust.
Between kisses he spoke boldly against my face. “I am giving you this chance only because you are so beautiful, Meena. So hot, so sexy. Look at you, dressed like this, jasmine in your hair, sindoor in your parting, gold on your body. A woman this hot should use her beauty wisely. Make full use of your beautiful face, your boobs, your ass cheeks, your pussy. Use them to save your husband. One fuck with me now, and he lives. Refuse, and he dies tomorrow.”
With one hand still gripping my waist, he used the other to tug the yellow saree pallu slowly away from where it covered my boobs. He dragged the pallu aside, letting it fall and rest between my boobs, the yellow saree material bunching in my deep cleavage, exposing my boobs fully under the tight yellow blouse. The mangalsutra now lay openly between my boobs, pendant resting on the yellow blouse fabric stretched taut over my mounds, nipples poking hard over the yellow blouse.
Govindan ogled my boobs shamelessly, eyes dark with hunger, mouth watering again. “Look at these boobs, Meena. So full, so round, pushing against that yellow blouse like they want to be freed. Nipples hard over the yellow blouse, begging for attention. Perfect boobs for squeezing, sucking, fucking. Use them, Meena. Offer them to me now, and your husband walks free.”
Dhamu stood frozen to my right, eyes locked on my exposed boobs under the yellow blouse, nipples visible as hard points over the yellow blouse, his cock bulge throbbing painfully in his lungi. He swallowed hard, voice hoarse. “Akka... please... Shiva anna will die. Just let sir fuck you now. Save him. For the boys. For anna.”
I struggled weakly in Govindan’s embrace, arms still forced around his neck, boobs crushed against his chest, pussy clenching in fear and shame under the maroon panties, yellow petticoat, and yellow saree. Tears poured down my face as I begged again, voice breaking. “Sir, please. Save my husband. Save him from the cop encounter. I will do anything else. I will work for you, serve you, give you money, anything but this. I am loyal to my husband. I love him. Do not ask me to betray him. Please, sir, save his life.”
Govindan ignored my pleas, kissing my cheeks again, then my lips roughly, tongue pushing against my closed mouth while one hand slid up to grab my boob over the yellow blouse, squeezing hard. “Your loyalty is touching, Meena. But your husband dies unless you let me fuck you now. Decide. Your pussy or his grave.”
I sobbed harder, body shaking, emotional fool heart tearing apart, loyal to my husband yet trapped in this ugly man’s arms, boobs groped, pussy throbbing with fear, begging through tears. “No... please... save him... anything but my body... I love him... do not make me...” My voice dissolved into broken cries, torn between fidelity and the desperate need to keep my husband alive for our sons.
Govindan tightened his grip on my waist, pulling me harder against his body, his cock bulge in the white dhoti grinding roughly against my navel through the yellow saree and yellow petticoat. He leaned in suddenly, trying to kiss my lips, mouth open and wet, breath hot and sour. I turned my face away quickly, pushing against his chest over his white shirt with both hands, arms still forced around his neck but straining to break free.
He froze for a second, then anger flashed across his ugly face. He shoved me back slightly, not letting go completely, voice rising loud and furious. “How dare you insult me, you slum bitch? You come here begging, dressed like a whore with your boobs hanging out and your ass cheeks jiggling, and now you push me away? I was going to make one call and save your rowdy husband. Now I will make sure the cops encounter him today itself. He dies tonight. You hear me? Tonight!”
Terror exploded in my chest, knees buckling, tears flooding my eyes instantly. My pussy clenched in pure fear under the maroon panties, yellow petticoat, and yellow saree, boobs heaving wildly under the yellow blouse, nipples poking hard over the yellow blouse from panic and sobs. “No, sir, please! Do not do this! I am sorry! Save him! Please, sir, do not kill him! My sons... they need their father! Please, I beg you!”
Govindan stepped back fully now, face twisted with rage, pointing at the door. “Get out! Both of you! Get the fuck out of my office before I call security and have you thrown out like street dogs!”
I collapsed into helpless crying, body shaking, hands covering my face, mangalsutra swinging between my boobs as sobs wracked me. “Please... sir... save him... do not let them kill him... I am sorry...”
Dhamu rushed forward, voice desperate. “Sir, please calm down! Do not get angry! She is scared, sir. She did not mean to insult you. Shiva anna will die if you do this. Please, sir, think again.”
Govindan’s voice boomed louder, furious. “I said get out! Or I call security right now! Chase you both out like beggars! And you, Meena, you think you are special? I have fucked all the top heroines in Tamil cinema. Actresses with better boobs, tighter pussy, bigger names. I asked to fuck you just for a little fun, because you look hot in this yellow saree, but now you touched my ego. You insulted me! Your husband dies today because of your arrogance!”
Dhamu grabbed my arm gently but firmly, pulling me toward the door while I cried uncontrollably, boobs bouncing under the yellow blouse with each sob, pussy throbbing with terror under the layers. “Akka, come. We have to leave. Sir is angry. Come.”
Govindan yelled after us as Dhamu dragged me out of the office room. “Go! Let the cops shoot him! Tell your sons their mother was too proud to save their father!”
The door slammed behind us. I stumbled in the corridor, crying helplessly, knees weak, mangalsutra sticky with tears against my boobs, pussy aching with grief and fear, emotional fool heart shattered, knowing my refusal might have just signed my husband’s death warrant. Dhamu held my arm, guiding me out of the building, his own face pale, cock bulge gone now, replaced by worry and guilt as we left the office behind, my desperate plea turned into a nightmare.
I stumbled out of the office building, tears blinding me, body shaking with sobs. My boobs heaved under the yellow blouse, nipples poking hard over the yellow blouse from the cold shock and grief, mangalsutra swinging wildly between my boobs with every broken step. The yellow saree pallu slipped lower, exposing more of my cleavage and navel, but I did not care. My pussy clenched in despair under the maroon panties, yellow petticoat, and yellow saree, legs weak as I walked toward the auto parked at the gate.
Dhamu followed close behind, face dark with anger. He grabbed my arm gently but firmly, pulling me to a stop. “Akka, what have you done? You screwed up the only chance we had! Shiva anna is as good as dead now! You pushed him away! You insulted Govindan sir! He was ready to save anna with one phone call, and you ruined it!”
His voice rose, polite but yelling in frustration, eyes flashing. “Akka, why? Why could you not just agree? One time with him, and anna lives! The boys get their father back! But you had to be loyal, had to be proud. Now what? Cops will shoot him today or tomorrow. You killed him, akka!”
I cried harder, collapsing against the auto side, boobs pressing against the metal edge through the yellow blouse, tears soaking the yellow saree pallu. “I could not, Dhamu... I love him... I cannot give myself to another man... I am loyal to my husband... please... there must be another way...”
Dhamu sighed heavily, anger mixing with pity. “Get in the auto, akka. We cannot stand here crying.”
I climbed into the back seat, yellow saree and yellow petticoat bunching around my thighs, maroon panties damp from fear and tears. I sat hunched, boobs still heaving with sobs, mangalsutra sticky against my wet cleavage. Dhamu sat in the driver’s seat, turned back to look at me through the small mirror, voice softer now but still edged with frustration.
“Akka, listen to me. Govindan sir was our last hope. You saw his anger. He will make sure the encounter happens fast now. Shiva anna... he trusted me to protect you, but I failed. You failed him too. What do we do now? Tell me. The boys are waiting at home. How will you face them without their father?”
I covered my face with both hands, sobbing uncontrollably, boobs bouncing with each cry under the yellow blouse, pussy aching with guilt and terror under the layers. “I do not know... I love him so much... I could not let that man touch me... but now... now he will die... because of me... please, Dhamu... help me... find another way... save my husband...”
Dhamu stared at me in the mirror, eyes conflicted, voice low. “Akka, there is no other way. You saw him. His ego is hurt. He will not help now. Unless... unless you go back and apologize, do what he wants. Let him have you now. It is the only way left.”
I shook my head violently, tears flying. “No... I cannot... I love my husband... I belong only to him... please... find another way...”
The auto sat silent except for my broken sobs, Dhamu turned back facing the road now, hands gripping the handlebars tight, both of us lost in fear and regret, my loyal heart shattered, knowing my refusal might have doomed the rowdy husband I loved more than life itself.
Dhamu started the auto engine, the vehicle jerking forward slowly through the narrow Chennai lanes. He drove in silence for a minute, then turned his head back again, eyes meeting mine in the small mirror. His voice came low, careful but firm, carrying the weight of reality.
“Akka, look at yourself. You are hot. You are sexy. Every man who sees you wants to fuck you. Your boobs so full and heavy under that yellow blouse, nipples always poking hard over the yellow blouse when you breathe fast. Your ass cheeks round and jiggling under the yellow saree, panty line visible over your ass cheeks over the saree every time you walk. Your navel deep and exposed, hips wide and swaying. Even the boys from Shiva anna’s own gang lust after you. They stare at your boobs when you pass, whisper about how they would love to grab your ass cheeks, spread your thighs, shove their cock into your pussy. They respect anna, so they never act, but they want you badly. You know it. Every rowdy in the slum wants to fuck you.”
I cried harder, hands covering my face, boobs shaking with sobs under the yellow blouse, mangalsutra sticky against my wet cleavage. “Dhamu... stop... I love my husband... I cannot think like that...”
He kept talking, voice steady, turning back every few seconds to look at me. “Akka, sex is nothing. It is just exchange of pleasure. Bodies meeting for a few minutes. A cock going in and out of a pussy. Moans, sweat, release. Nothing more. It does not take your love for anna. It does not change who you belong to in your heart. It is just flesh doing what flesh does. One time, akka. One short exchange of pleasure with Govindan sir, and Shiva anna lives. You keep your husband. The boys keep their father. That is all.”
I shook my head, tears falling onto my boobs over the yellow blouse, voice choked. “But... it feels like betrayal... I promised him... only him...”
Dhamu slowed the auto at a signal, turned fully to face me, eyes serious. “Akka, listen. Fifteen minutes. That is all. Fifteen minutes of giving pleasure to Govindan sir. Let him touch your boobs, squeeze them, kiss your neck, put his cock in your pussy. Let him cum inside you. Fifteen minutes, and Shiva anna comes home safe. No more hiding. No more fear of encounter. He will hold you again, fuck you again, be father to the boys. Do this for him. Do this for your sons. They are waiting at home, asking when appa will come back. Do you want to tell them their father is dead because you said no to fifteen minutes? Think of their faces, akka. Think of them growing up without him. Fifteen minutes, akka. That is all it takes to save him.”
My sobs quieted slowly, chest aching, pussy clenching under the maroon panties, yellow petticoat, and yellow saree from the weight of his words. I thought of my three sons, their small faces, their questions about appa. I thought of my husband hiding in that hut, waiting for death. Loyalty warred with love for my children, with fear of losing everything. Tears kept falling, but my voice came out small, broken.
“Fifteen minutes... only that... for him... for the boys...”
Dhamu nodded, voice gentle now. “Yes, akka. Just fifteen minutes. Let Govindan sir have you now. Save Shiva anna. Save your family.”
I stared out the auto window, boobs still heaving under the yellow blouse, mangalsutra heavy between them, emotional fool heart cracking open. After a long silence, I whispered through tears. “Okay... take me back... I will do it... for my husband... for my sons...”
Dhamu exhaled in relief, turned the auto around sharply, engine roaring as we headed back toward Govindan’s office, my decision made in despair and love, ready to give my body for fifteen minutes to save the rowdy husband I adored, the father of my children, the only man whose cock I ever wanted inside my pussy until this moment.
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