10 hours ago
**Episode 2: The Wedding Knot**
The days following the proposal moved with the steady rhythm of village life, yet everything felt charged with a new energy. In Devgarh, word spread quickly that Ravina Sharma was to marry Arjun Rao, the only son of the Rao family from Delhi. The Sharma household buzzed with activity. Mrs. Sunita Sharma worked late into the nights on her Singer machine, stitching intricate blouses and lehengas for the trousseau. Mr. Mahesh Sharma handled the formalities with quiet pride, meeting elders and finalizing the muhurat for the last week of March 2014.
Ravina spent her days in a quiet daze. At twenty-four, she had completed her MBA in HR two years ago and had secretly hoped to try for a job before marriage. Now, the alliance had come faster than expected. She helped her mother with stitching, practiced Kathak steps in the courtyard to calm her nerves, and spoke softly with Ishika and Meghna during their evening talks.
One afternoon, two weeks before the wedding, Arjun arrived in Devgarh with his parents for the formal meeting. The Sharma courtyard had been swept clean and decorated with fresh marigolds. Ravina stood beside her parents, dressed in her favorite modest maroon cotton saree, pallu pinned high and tight across her chest, full sleeves covering her arms, the hem brushing her ankles. Her long jet-black hair was braided neatly with mogra flowers.
When Arjun stepped into the courtyard, Ravina saw him clearly for the first time. He was tall at 6'1", with a well-built gym physique — broad shoulders, defined chest, and strong arms that filled his cream kurta. His honey-toned skin, sharp jawline, and confident yet warm eyes reminded her of a young Shah Rukh Khan mixed with the rugged charm of Ranbir Kapoor. He carried himself with the quiet assurance of someone who had lived in the city for four years, yet he bowed respectfully to her parents.
Arjun’s gaze first fell on Ravina. She stood gracefully, her warm jaggery-glow skin radiant in the afternoon light. She had the elegant long neck and poised posture of Katrina Kaif, large expressive doe eyes and full naturally pink lips like Alia Bhatt, and a soft feminine face that made her look both beautiful and approachable. Her 36C-28-38 figure — full, firm breasts, narrow waist, and gracefully flared hips — was evident even under the modest saree, shaped beautifully by years of Kathak training. For a moment, Arjun felt a quiet admiration mixed with the same reluctance he had expressed to his mother on the phone. *She looks so rooted in this village life,* he thought. *Will she really adjust to Bangalore?*
His eyes then drifted briefly to the two younger girls standing slightly behind Ravina. Ishika, twenty years old, had the same glowing jaggery skin and a youthful heart-shaped face with the innocent sparkle of Shraddha Kapoor mixed with Kiara Advani’s fresh charm. A tiny beauty spot sat just above her left eyebrow. Her 34B-26-36 figure was pert and toned from Kathak, with high, firm breasts and gently widening hips. She kept her eyes lowered, two thick plaits hanging down her back. Beside her stood cousin Meghna, also twenty, with a lively face and similar glowing skin. Meghna had a slightly rounder, softer 34C-27-37 figure, warm and curvaceous, with expressive eyes and a bright smile that suggested her cheerful nature. Both girls wore simple pastel salwar kameez, dupattas pinned securely across their chests.
The formal meeting was brief and respectful. Arjun spoke politely with Ravina’s parents, answering questions about his job in Bangalore and his life there. When the elders allowed a few minutes for the young couple to speak alone under the neem tree, Ravina kept her gaze lowered, pallu dbangd modestly.
Arjun spoke first, his voice deep and gentle. “Ravina, I know this is all happening very fast. My mother was very impressed when she saw you dancing. I want you to know I respect your background. Tell me… what are your dreams? After your MBA, did you want to work?”
Ravina’s cheeks flushed slightly. She spoke softly but clearly. “Yes, Arjun ji. I completed my MBA in HR two years ago. I dreamed of working in a company, helping people with their careers. But I also know marriage brings responsibilities. I want a home where I can be useful, cook fresh meals, and still keep our traditions. Fashion for me has always been simple sarees and salwars. I cannot imagine changing that. What about you? How do you see life in Bangalore?”
Arjun smiled, choosing his words carefully. “Bangalore is fast, but I have been there four years now. I work as a software engineer. I want a partner who is kind and respectful, someone who can make a house feel like home. Your dreams of working… we can talk about that later if you wish. For now, I just want you to feel comfortable with this decision.”
Their conversation was short and polite, ending with Ravina nodding shyly. Arjun felt a quiet pull toward her grace but also the same concern — how would this modest village girl adjust to his modern city life?
The wedding took place on 28th March 2014, an auspicious date. The entire village gathered for the grand ceremonies. The pandal was erected in the large courtyard near the temple, decorated with marigold garlands and colorful cloth canopies. The air smelled of jasmine, incense, and fresh sweets.
Ravina was dressed by her mother and aunts in the bride’s room. She wore a heavy red Banarasi silk saree with thick gold zari borders, the pallu pinned high and tight across her 36C breasts, the blouse full-sleeved with a high neckline, leaving no skin exposed except her face and hands. The saree was wrapped in traditional style, pleats tucked securely, the hem falling to her ankles. Her long hair was styled in an elaborate bun adorned with fresh jasmine strings that reached her waist. Gold jewelry — thick bangles, a mangalsutra ready to be tied, and a small nose ring — gleamed against her jaggery skin. She looked every inch the traditional Rajasthani bride: serene, covered, and pure.
Ishika, as the younger sister, wore a simple yet elegant pastel pink cotton saree, pallu dbangd modestly high, full-sleeved blouse, and hem to her ankles. Meghna wore a similar green salwar kameez, both girls standing supportively beside Ravina.
The rituals began at the exact muhurat. Arjun, dressed in a cream silk sherwani that stretched across his broad shoulders, sat waiting under the mandap. When Ravina was led forward by her father, Arjun’s eyes met hers respectfully. The sacred fire crackled as they circled it seven times, hands tied together with a sacred thread. Mantras filled the air. When the moment came for Arjun to tie the mangalsutra around Ravina’s neck, he leaned close and whispered softly, “You look beautiful, Ravina. I promise to take care of you.”
The feast followed on banana leaves — rice, dal, fresh vegetables, and sweet payasam. Ravina and Arjun sat together for a short while. Ravina spoke little, but when Arjun asked about her college days, she replied quietly about her MBA and her love for Kathak. Arjun listened attentively, sharing small stories about his work in Bangalore without overwhelming her.
As evening fell, the send-off began. Tears flowed freely. Ravina clung to Ishika for a long moment, their modest sarees rustling together.
“Ravi Didi,” Ishika whispered, voice breaking, “I will miss our evening talks. Promise you will call me every week.”
Ravina’s eyes filled with tears. “I promise, Ishi. Stay strong. Study well. Keep practicing Kathak with Meghna. I will miss you terribly.”
Meghna hugged her tightly. “We will wait for your calls, Ravi Didi. Come back to visit soon.”
Arjun’s parents stood nearby, smiling warmly. Mrs. Meena Rao hugged Ravina. “You are now our daughter. Take care.”
The newlyweds were taken to a beautifully decorated old haveli rented by Arjun’s family for the wedding night. The master bedroom was spacious, with traditional wooden furniture, fresh flowers, and soft lighting from lanterns.
After the door closed and they were finally alone, the air grew thick with anticipation. Ravina stood near the bed, still in her heavy red wedding saree, heart pounding. Arjun approached slowly, his voice low and reassuring.
“Ravina… Baby,” he said gently, using the pet name for the first time, “we have our whole life ahead. Tonight, we go only as far as you feel comfortable. There is no rush.”
Ravina looked up at him, cheeks flushed. “Arju… I am nervous. I have never… been with anyone. I don’t know what to do.”
He smiled softly and took her hands. “Then let me show you. You are beautiful, and I want to make you feel good. Trust me?”
She nodded shyly. Arjun began unwrapping the heavy saree with patient fingers, layer by layer, until it pooled at her feet. He unbuttoned her blouse slowly, revealing her full, firm 36C breasts. Her dark nipples were already tight from nervousness and the cool air.
“You are perfect,” he murmured, lowering his head to kiss her neck, then her collarbone. When his mouth closed over one nipple, sucking gently, Ravina gasped sharply, her hands coming up to clutch his shoulders.
“Arju… that feels…” Her voice trailed off into a soft moan as he switched to the other breast, tongue circling.
He guided her to lie back on the bed and removed the rest of her clothes until she was completely naked. Ravina instinctively tried to cover herself, but Arjun gently moved her hands away.
“Don’t hide from me, Baby,” he whispered. “Let me taste you.”
He kissed down her stomach and parted her thighs. When his tongue first touched her folds, Ravina jolted. “Arju! What are you— oh!” The sensation was overwhelming — warm, wet, and intensely pleasurable. He licked slowly along her slit, then focused on her clit, sucking lightly while one finger gently entered her. Ravina’s hips moved on their own as pleasure built rapidly.
“I… I can’t… it’s too much,” she whimpered, but her body betrayed her, thighs trembling as she reached her first climax with a surprised cry, waves of pleasure crashing through her.
Arjun gave her a moment to breathe, kissing her softly. “Did that feel good?”
Ravina nodded, breathless. “Yes… very good. I didn’t know it could feel like that.”
He took her hand and guided it to his hard cock. “Touch me, Baby. Like this.” She stroked him tentatively at first, then with growing confidence as he groaned in approval. He showed her how to use her mouth — lips stretching around the head, tongue swirling. Ravina gagged a little but continued, eager and curious.
When he finally positioned himself between her thighs, he looked into her eyes. “It may hurt a little at first. Tell me if it’s too much.”
He entered her slowly, inch by inch. Ravina winced at the sharp pain as he broke her hymen, gripping his arms tightly. “Arju… it hurts…”
“Shh, I’m here,” he whispered, staying still and kissing her deeply until the pain eased. Then he began to move — slow, deep thrusts that gradually turned into powerful, rhythmic strokes. The bed creaked steadily. Ravina’s moans grew louder as discomfort gave way to pleasure.
“Harder… please,” she whispered shyly after some time, surprising even herself.
Arjun obliged, taking her with increasing intensity — first missionary, then turning her onto her hands and knees, gripping her flared hips as he thrust deeper. Ravina came again, crying out his name. They made love two more times before dawn — once slower and more tender, once with growing urgency as Ravina grew bolder, riding him with hesitant but eager movements, her full breasts bouncing as she found her rhythm. By morning, Ravina lay curled against his chest, her body marked with love bites and a new, glowing soreness between her thighs. The conservative village girl had experienced her first night of intense, passionate sex, and a quiet door had opened inside her.
The next morning, Arjun gifted Ravina a simple smartphone as her wedding present. “So you can call your sister easily,” he said with a warm smile.
They traveled to Delhi the same day to stay at Arjun’s parents’ residence for a few days. The Rao home was comfortable and traditional. Ravina felt shy but was welcomed warmly. That evening, sitting in the guest room, she used her new phone to call Ishika on the village landline. The connection was clear.
“Ishi? It is me… Ravina.”
“Didi!” Ishika’s voice burst with joy and tears. “How are you? How was the night? Are you okay?”
Ravina’s voice was soft, still carrying the glow of the previous night. “I am fine, Ishi. The wedding was beautiful. Arjun is kind. Last night… it was more intense than I expected. But he was gentle with me at first. He gifted me this phone so I can call you. I miss you already. How is Amma? Tell Meghna I said hello.”
Ishika listened, asking quiet questions about Delhi and the journey. Ravina shared small, innocent details, keeping her voice modest. They spoke for nearly ten minutes before the call ended with promises to talk again soon.
The next day, Ravina and Arjun left for their honeymoon in Bali. At the airport, Ravina’s eyes widened with excitement. It was her first international trip. As the plane took off, she held Arjun’s hand tightly, looking out the window.
“Arju, I never imagined I would fly like this,” she whispered. “The village feels so far already. I am nervous… but excited too. Thank you for this.”
Arjun smiled, squeezing her hand. “This is just the beginning, Baby. You will see new things, but I will be with you every step.”
As the plane soared toward Bali, Ravina leaned her head on his shoulder, her heart full of a mix of shyness, anticipation, and the first quiet stirrings of a new life.
The days following the proposal moved with the steady rhythm of village life, yet everything felt charged with a new energy. In Devgarh, word spread quickly that Ravina Sharma was to marry Arjun Rao, the only son of the Rao family from Delhi. The Sharma household buzzed with activity. Mrs. Sunita Sharma worked late into the nights on her Singer machine, stitching intricate blouses and lehengas for the trousseau. Mr. Mahesh Sharma handled the formalities with quiet pride, meeting elders and finalizing the muhurat for the last week of March 2014.
Ravina spent her days in a quiet daze. At twenty-four, she had completed her MBA in HR two years ago and had secretly hoped to try for a job before marriage. Now, the alliance had come faster than expected. She helped her mother with stitching, practiced Kathak steps in the courtyard to calm her nerves, and spoke softly with Ishika and Meghna during their evening talks.
One afternoon, two weeks before the wedding, Arjun arrived in Devgarh with his parents for the formal meeting. The Sharma courtyard had been swept clean and decorated with fresh marigolds. Ravina stood beside her parents, dressed in her favorite modest maroon cotton saree, pallu pinned high and tight across her chest, full sleeves covering her arms, the hem brushing her ankles. Her long jet-black hair was braided neatly with mogra flowers.
When Arjun stepped into the courtyard, Ravina saw him clearly for the first time. He was tall at 6'1", with a well-built gym physique — broad shoulders, defined chest, and strong arms that filled his cream kurta. His honey-toned skin, sharp jawline, and confident yet warm eyes reminded her of a young Shah Rukh Khan mixed with the rugged charm of Ranbir Kapoor. He carried himself with the quiet assurance of someone who had lived in the city for four years, yet he bowed respectfully to her parents.
Arjun’s gaze first fell on Ravina. She stood gracefully, her warm jaggery-glow skin radiant in the afternoon light. She had the elegant long neck and poised posture of Katrina Kaif, large expressive doe eyes and full naturally pink lips like Alia Bhatt, and a soft feminine face that made her look both beautiful and approachable. Her 36C-28-38 figure — full, firm breasts, narrow waist, and gracefully flared hips — was evident even under the modest saree, shaped beautifully by years of Kathak training. For a moment, Arjun felt a quiet admiration mixed with the same reluctance he had expressed to his mother on the phone. *She looks so rooted in this village life,* he thought. *Will she really adjust to Bangalore?*
His eyes then drifted briefly to the two younger girls standing slightly behind Ravina. Ishika, twenty years old, had the same glowing jaggery skin and a youthful heart-shaped face with the innocent sparkle of Shraddha Kapoor mixed with Kiara Advani’s fresh charm. A tiny beauty spot sat just above her left eyebrow. Her 34B-26-36 figure was pert and toned from Kathak, with high, firm breasts and gently widening hips. She kept her eyes lowered, two thick plaits hanging down her back. Beside her stood cousin Meghna, also twenty, with a lively face and similar glowing skin. Meghna had a slightly rounder, softer 34C-27-37 figure, warm and curvaceous, with expressive eyes and a bright smile that suggested her cheerful nature. Both girls wore simple pastel salwar kameez, dupattas pinned securely across their chests.
The formal meeting was brief and respectful. Arjun spoke politely with Ravina’s parents, answering questions about his job in Bangalore and his life there. When the elders allowed a few minutes for the young couple to speak alone under the neem tree, Ravina kept her gaze lowered, pallu dbangd modestly.
Arjun spoke first, his voice deep and gentle. “Ravina, I know this is all happening very fast. My mother was very impressed when she saw you dancing. I want you to know I respect your background. Tell me… what are your dreams? After your MBA, did you want to work?”
Ravina’s cheeks flushed slightly. She spoke softly but clearly. “Yes, Arjun ji. I completed my MBA in HR two years ago. I dreamed of working in a company, helping people with their careers. But I also know marriage brings responsibilities. I want a home where I can be useful, cook fresh meals, and still keep our traditions. Fashion for me has always been simple sarees and salwars. I cannot imagine changing that. What about you? How do you see life in Bangalore?”
Arjun smiled, choosing his words carefully. “Bangalore is fast, but I have been there four years now. I work as a software engineer. I want a partner who is kind and respectful, someone who can make a house feel like home. Your dreams of working… we can talk about that later if you wish. For now, I just want you to feel comfortable with this decision.”
Their conversation was short and polite, ending with Ravina nodding shyly. Arjun felt a quiet pull toward her grace but also the same concern — how would this modest village girl adjust to his modern city life?
The wedding took place on 28th March 2014, an auspicious date. The entire village gathered for the grand ceremonies. The pandal was erected in the large courtyard near the temple, decorated with marigold garlands and colorful cloth canopies. The air smelled of jasmine, incense, and fresh sweets.
Ravina was dressed by her mother and aunts in the bride’s room. She wore a heavy red Banarasi silk saree with thick gold zari borders, the pallu pinned high and tight across her 36C breasts, the blouse full-sleeved with a high neckline, leaving no skin exposed except her face and hands. The saree was wrapped in traditional style, pleats tucked securely, the hem falling to her ankles. Her long hair was styled in an elaborate bun adorned with fresh jasmine strings that reached her waist. Gold jewelry — thick bangles, a mangalsutra ready to be tied, and a small nose ring — gleamed against her jaggery skin. She looked every inch the traditional Rajasthani bride: serene, covered, and pure.
Ishika, as the younger sister, wore a simple yet elegant pastel pink cotton saree, pallu dbangd modestly high, full-sleeved blouse, and hem to her ankles. Meghna wore a similar green salwar kameez, both girls standing supportively beside Ravina.
The rituals began at the exact muhurat. Arjun, dressed in a cream silk sherwani that stretched across his broad shoulders, sat waiting under the mandap. When Ravina was led forward by her father, Arjun’s eyes met hers respectfully. The sacred fire crackled as they circled it seven times, hands tied together with a sacred thread. Mantras filled the air. When the moment came for Arjun to tie the mangalsutra around Ravina’s neck, he leaned close and whispered softly, “You look beautiful, Ravina. I promise to take care of you.”
The feast followed on banana leaves — rice, dal, fresh vegetables, and sweet payasam. Ravina and Arjun sat together for a short while. Ravina spoke little, but when Arjun asked about her college days, she replied quietly about her MBA and her love for Kathak. Arjun listened attentively, sharing small stories about his work in Bangalore without overwhelming her.
As evening fell, the send-off began. Tears flowed freely. Ravina clung to Ishika for a long moment, their modest sarees rustling together.
“Ravi Didi,” Ishika whispered, voice breaking, “I will miss our evening talks. Promise you will call me every week.”
Ravina’s eyes filled with tears. “I promise, Ishi. Stay strong. Study well. Keep practicing Kathak with Meghna. I will miss you terribly.”
Meghna hugged her tightly. “We will wait for your calls, Ravi Didi. Come back to visit soon.”
Arjun’s parents stood nearby, smiling warmly. Mrs. Meena Rao hugged Ravina. “You are now our daughter. Take care.”
The newlyweds were taken to a beautifully decorated old haveli rented by Arjun’s family for the wedding night. The master bedroom was spacious, with traditional wooden furniture, fresh flowers, and soft lighting from lanterns.
After the door closed and they were finally alone, the air grew thick with anticipation. Ravina stood near the bed, still in her heavy red wedding saree, heart pounding. Arjun approached slowly, his voice low and reassuring.
“Ravina… Baby,” he said gently, using the pet name for the first time, “we have our whole life ahead. Tonight, we go only as far as you feel comfortable. There is no rush.”
Ravina looked up at him, cheeks flushed. “Arju… I am nervous. I have never… been with anyone. I don’t know what to do.”
He smiled softly and took her hands. “Then let me show you. You are beautiful, and I want to make you feel good. Trust me?”
She nodded shyly. Arjun began unwrapping the heavy saree with patient fingers, layer by layer, until it pooled at her feet. He unbuttoned her blouse slowly, revealing her full, firm 36C breasts. Her dark nipples were already tight from nervousness and the cool air.
“You are perfect,” he murmured, lowering his head to kiss her neck, then her collarbone. When his mouth closed over one nipple, sucking gently, Ravina gasped sharply, her hands coming up to clutch his shoulders.
“Arju… that feels…” Her voice trailed off into a soft moan as he switched to the other breast, tongue circling.
He guided her to lie back on the bed and removed the rest of her clothes until she was completely naked. Ravina instinctively tried to cover herself, but Arjun gently moved her hands away.
“Don’t hide from me, Baby,” he whispered. “Let me taste you.”
He kissed down her stomach and parted her thighs. When his tongue first touched her folds, Ravina jolted. “Arju! What are you— oh!” The sensation was overwhelming — warm, wet, and intensely pleasurable. He licked slowly along her slit, then focused on her clit, sucking lightly while one finger gently entered her. Ravina’s hips moved on their own as pleasure built rapidly.
“I… I can’t… it’s too much,” she whimpered, but her body betrayed her, thighs trembling as she reached her first climax with a surprised cry, waves of pleasure crashing through her.
Arjun gave her a moment to breathe, kissing her softly. “Did that feel good?”
Ravina nodded, breathless. “Yes… very good. I didn’t know it could feel like that.”
He took her hand and guided it to his hard cock. “Touch me, Baby. Like this.” She stroked him tentatively at first, then with growing confidence as he groaned in approval. He showed her how to use her mouth — lips stretching around the head, tongue swirling. Ravina gagged a little but continued, eager and curious.
When he finally positioned himself between her thighs, he looked into her eyes. “It may hurt a little at first. Tell me if it’s too much.”
He entered her slowly, inch by inch. Ravina winced at the sharp pain as he broke her hymen, gripping his arms tightly. “Arju… it hurts…”
“Shh, I’m here,” he whispered, staying still and kissing her deeply until the pain eased. Then he began to move — slow, deep thrusts that gradually turned into powerful, rhythmic strokes. The bed creaked steadily. Ravina’s moans grew louder as discomfort gave way to pleasure.
“Harder… please,” she whispered shyly after some time, surprising even herself.
Arjun obliged, taking her with increasing intensity — first missionary, then turning her onto her hands and knees, gripping her flared hips as he thrust deeper. Ravina came again, crying out his name. They made love two more times before dawn — once slower and more tender, once with growing urgency as Ravina grew bolder, riding him with hesitant but eager movements, her full breasts bouncing as she found her rhythm. By morning, Ravina lay curled against his chest, her body marked with love bites and a new, glowing soreness between her thighs. The conservative village girl had experienced her first night of intense, passionate sex, and a quiet door had opened inside her.
The next morning, Arjun gifted Ravina a simple smartphone as her wedding present. “So you can call your sister easily,” he said with a warm smile.
They traveled to Delhi the same day to stay at Arjun’s parents’ residence for a few days. The Rao home was comfortable and traditional. Ravina felt shy but was welcomed warmly. That evening, sitting in the guest room, she used her new phone to call Ishika on the village landline. The connection was clear.
“Ishi? It is me… Ravina.”
“Didi!” Ishika’s voice burst with joy and tears. “How are you? How was the night? Are you okay?”
Ravina’s voice was soft, still carrying the glow of the previous night. “I am fine, Ishi. The wedding was beautiful. Arjun is kind. Last night… it was more intense than I expected. But he was gentle with me at first. He gifted me this phone so I can call you. I miss you already. How is Amma? Tell Meghna I said hello.”
Ishika listened, asking quiet questions about Delhi and the journey. Ravina shared small, innocent details, keeping her voice modest. They spoke for nearly ten minutes before the call ended with promises to talk again soon.
The next day, Ravina and Arjun left for their honeymoon in Bali. At the airport, Ravina’s eyes widened with excitement. It was her first international trip. As the plane took off, she held Arjun’s hand tightly, looking out the window.
“Arju, I never imagined I would fly like this,” she whispered. “The village feels so far already. I am nervous… but excited too. Thank you for this.”
Arjun smiled, squeezing her hand. “This is just the beginning, Baby. You will see new things, but I will be with you every step.”
As the plane soared toward Bali, Ravina leaned her head on his shoulder, her heart full of a mix of shyness, anticipation, and the first quiet stirrings of a new life.
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