Chapter 5
The moment Rupu stepped beyond the final security gate, she felt as though she had crossed into an entirely different world. The prison was not merely a building of concrete and iron; it seemed to possess a presence of its own. The air was thick and oppressive, carrying a stale mixture of sweat, rust, damp walls, disinfectant, and countless years of human misery. Every breath felt heavier than the last. The dim tube lights hanging from the ceilings cast a sickly glow over the corridors, illuminating cracked walls and rusted bars that appeared to stretch endlessly in every direction. Somewhere in the distance, metal clanged against metal. Somewhere else, a man laughed—a short, unpleasant sound that died almost as quickly as it had begun. The noise echoed strangely through the passageways, making the prison feel larger than it really was.
Rupu instinctively adjusted the pink pallu resting over her shoulder.
Only now did she realize how absurdly bright her saree appeared in this place. The soft pink fabric looked almost foreign amidst the shades of grey, brown, and faded green that dominated the prison. For a moment she felt foolish for wearing it. She had not chosen it for any particular reason. It had simply been the first saree her hand had reached for that morning. Yet standing here, surrounded by hardened faces and stained walls, she felt conspicuous in a way she had never expected. The pink seemed to attract attention.
She disliked that feeling.
But at the same time, something about the dim ambience was darkly arousing.
Trying to ignore her growing discomfort, she continued forward, her sandals producing soft sounds against the concrete floor. She was busy rehearsing questions she intended to ask her client when a large figure suddenly brushed past her shoulder with enough force to nearly knock her sideways.
The impact startled her.
Annoyance immediately replaced surprise.
"Hey... stop!"
The words escaped her before she could think.
The man stopped.
Slowly.
Too slowly.
Something about the deliberate manner in which he halted made her stomach tighten.
He turned around and looked at her.
Only then did she realize he was wearing a prison uniform.
The white fabric hung loosely from his broad frame. The outfit was stained and wrinkled, making it impossible to guess how long he had been wearing it. His face was rough and weathered. A thick beard covered most of his jaw, while his eyes possessed a strange stillness that unsettled her immediately. They were not the eyes of a man embarrassed at being confronted.
They were the eyes of a man evaluating a challenge.
For several seconds neither spoke.
The corridor around them seemed to fall silent.
The prisoner took a step toward her.
Then another.
Rupu remained where she was, refusing to move back despite the growing unease spreading through her chest. She was a lawyer. She dealt with criminals. She had spent years speaking confidently in courtrooms.
Yet something about this man felt different.
Dangerous.
Not because he was shouting.
Not because he was threatening.
Because he appeared completely comfortable.
The sort of comfort only possessed by men who had spent years doing whatever they wanted without caring about consequences.
The prisoner's gaze moved slowly across her face before descending lower. His eyes lingered openly, making no attempt whatsoever to hide their intentions. Rupu immediately felt exposed. A pulse of anger mixed with embarrassment shot through her. She folded her arms instinctively but stopped halfway, unwilling to reveal her discomfort.
The man seemed amused by her effort.
Then, without warning, his hand reached toward her.
His fingers caught the edge of her pink pallu.
Rupu froze.
The other firm hand touched the exposed portion of her belly and gave it a slight but shameless squeeze.
For a moment she could scarcely process what had happened.
The gesture was casual.
Almost insulting her dignity.
As though he considered touching her entirely normal.
Entirely acceptable.
She grabbed the fabric immediately, but the prisoner merely tightened his grip for a second before releasing it. The brief contact was enough to send a wave of humiliation through her body.
Her heart began beating harder.
She looked around.
What she saw disturbed her more than the prisoner's actions.
Nobody cared.
Two guards stood farther down the corridor.
Several prisoners lingered nearby.
A worker pushed a trolley loaded with supplies.
Yet not a single person reacted.
The indifference surrounding the incident was almost worse than the incident itself. It suggested that boundaries were fragile here. That visitors entered this place at their own risk. That dignity itself was negotiable within these walls.
The prisoner stepped closer.
Close enough for Rupu to smell sweat and tobacco on him.
Close enough for her to notice the old scars scattered across his face and neck.
Close enough to make her understand that if he chose to frighten her further, there would be little she could do.
For the first time since entering the prison, genuine fear touched her.
Not panic nor helplessness.
Just a cold realization that she was standing in a place where the normal rules of society felt disturbingly distant.
Then a thunderous voice shattered the moment.
"RAGHAV SINGH! STOP IT!"
The man stopped and shifted his hand from the pink pallu and snaps an angry finger towards Rupu and she already felt a bit weak. There were blood stains on the white prison outfit of the big man as he walked off, giving an impression of a long time criminal and a butcher combined. Rupu was glad he left as she felt small stirs looking at those red stains and realised the violence the man was probably used to causing and ignoring the fact as to why a prisoner like him roamed around as if it was his house, she finally met the source of that loud voice.
Ganpat Gawande.
His demeanour was even more annoying. Around three buttons remained loosened on his shirt. A clear expensive golden chain shimmered in contrast to his brown tone and rubbing his bald scalp, he went near and stared at the curvy lawyer and his gaze alone stripped away half of Rupu's dignity as she silently made sure her pallu was dbangd with balance on her creamy shoulder.
Walking closer, the man asked almost impatiently....."yes madam?"
"I have come to see Mr Probal Chatterjee. I am his advocate!"
"Lovely saree vakil sahiba...." Ganpat walked around her. His mannerism very chauvenistic already as he seemed to even smell her too and just then something unexpected happened. Two havaldars caught hold of a prisoner and dragged him to one of the cells, quite against his useless pleadings and Ganpat shouted at the man....
"Aayeee shut up re! Take him inside the cell and strip him and thrash every part of his body till he speaks up!!"
Sheer potential violent tone from an already intimidating looking man as Rupu shivered deep within and fell a twitch in her nipples within the blouse and she felt so embarrassed. One more small tremor passed her as she felt him smack his bals head once more and take a deep sigh before saying...."oh that gold biscuit smuggler!"
"He isn't a criminal! He is falsely accused....." Rupu maintained her professional demenour as she gazed at the aggresive aura of the officer and wondered why was she so warmed up by such a presence. The next big surprise came when Ganpat laughed and placing hands on his hips, he clearly said....
"I don't think he can be considered innocent!"
"Why not?"
"Because I am saying so! The evidences are against him!"
Saying so Gangat eyed her from top to bottom once again and with an even more wolf like gaze. On the other hand Rupu with her glossy pink nails held on the papers firm and trembled under the attention, but the trembling was highly ambiguous as it was a combination of tension and a dark arousal beaming together at the same time.
Just then, the other recently dragged criminal kept making soft pleading murmurs as he was getting whacked hard by belts and rods.
THWAKKK
THWAKKKKKKKK
The sounds never ceased as the man helplessly squirmed and Ganpat just casually allowed her to resume her duty "go on....the cell in the exact middle!" and then himself went ahead and entered the cell and took off his belt. Strangely Rupu didn't move. Her sadomasochism fetish slowly crept up and surrounded her rational mindset as her shaking fingers caught the hem of her pink saree with low sexual moans from her parted glossy lips as Ganpat thrashed and almost made the criminal bleed with the thwack of his belt alone.
The sight was awfully brutal as it blended the jungle with the city in a way Rupu couldn't ignore and she went to a corner and covered her groin area with the papers and slowly rubbed the area around her navel slowly and circled the same navel hole with the random criminal pleading for release but when the thrashing expanded with the obscene violent sounds being emitted out due to Ganpat's aggressive belt. That is when Rupu scratched the pink material below her navel and arround the throbbing area that clearly had very puffed up labia by now.
"Such violence.....blood stains......gosh the man's strong dominant beastly aura....look at him moan and groan....helpless beta animal....."
Words such as these lingered through Rupu in and out and before she could go beyond decency and rub her itches even more, a havaldar came upto her and made her shake off her hand from her groin zone and stand straight as the man pointed towards Probal's cell and spoke in an emotional cold voice almost.....
"Madamji....he is asking for you!"
Rupu gained her senses back and looked towards the shown direction.
She walked slowly as the sound of Ganpat's thrashing eventually faded off and to her relief she reached a silent corner with nothing but a dim lit corridor and her cousin's innocent husband holding the bars and looking at her silently. His eyes having some amount of hope as she walked closer.
"Rupu....." Probal barely had the voice to speak but his darkened tunnels seemed to lit up a bit on seing her.
"Probal...." Rupu passed a soft sigh and continued...."tell me what exactly happened!"
.......................
Meanwhile inside Duronto Express -
By the time evening settled comfortably over the train, the compartment had acquired the strange familiarity that often developed among long-distance passengers. The initial awkwardness had faded. People had discovered where their bags belonged, where they preferred to sit, and how much conversation they wished to engage in. The steady hum of the air-conditioning now provided welcome relief from the oppressive heat they had endured earlier. Outside the window, fields and small towns drifted past in an endless procession while inside the coach everyone slowly adapted to the rhythm of the journey.
Komolini still unaware of what her son went through that day, was more focused in her own thoughts that kept lingering on Probal and only Probal. Although her subconscious attention still kept moving towards the unknown stranger besides her and suddenly he gets up and rushes for a washroom break. The lurking stare finally faded for a moment as Komolini still looked at her pallu and made sure it was well placed on her shoulder edge, although the stare from this non Bengali burly man had sent some jolts inside her and to which she felt even more embarrassed due to her son being right on the top berth and the shiver was wicked to say the least.
Unknown to Hiyan, she even takes out the small mirror and somehow smacks her lips twice, making them have this natural wet gloss for some reason and she assured herself....
"Certainly not for that man.....but I need to be presentable...."
But she didn't ask further and just then the man's phone buzzed. Komolini kept her small mirror back into her bag and watched the phone screen just randomly and was surprised to the point that her eyes just widened on their own. The name on the screen was "Baiko". What did it mean? wondered Komolini as she ignored and gazed outside and again with further buzzing, she looked into the screen once more. Hiyan played his video games in absolute oblivion while Komolini kept herself engaged back in thoughts regarding how her husband was in the awful jail.
Just as her curiosity took a leap, the man returned with a smile and she stepped back into her normal pose and just pretended to browse her phone. However once the man engaged in a purely marathi conversation with an apparently flirtatious tone with chuckles, whispers and even some wet kisses on the screen with a kinky 'pccch pcchh' sound. The sounds weakened Komolini as ahs felt small shivers pass through her ample breasts that heaved up and down and she almost had glassy eyes. Her long nails touching the thick rim of the table slab in between, firmly....to resist the small memories Probal gave her...
Be it, the light touches during kitchen as she cooked.
Or the feathery soothing rubs on her blouse clad back right when Hiyan would be in the house.
But it had been ages since that happened and her insides had dried out and she couldn't ignore much on the fact that she was very very desperate for a male touch on her mature curves that blossomed each year as her son grew up. She sighed and felt bothered on how much the man talked and the dry kisses continued. Just randomly Komolini seemed to make an eye contact for a fraction of second and with the same pouty lips gesture, the man also eyed her at that precise moment and she shifted her eyes back on her phone screen and breathed in sheer disappointment...."When was the last time I had such a conversation with Probal..."
After some more flirtatious conversation, the man disconnected and his attention got back to Komolini who now tried for Rupu once more, but the phone was switched off as the prison didn't allow calls for outsiders, but unaware of that Komolini felt more and more restless to reach Pune and free her husband with the help of her cousin and get back to her normal life in Kolkata and just then....the chirpy marathi tone....
"Vahini ji!"
Komolini looked confused and that is when the man chuckled and smacked his head....."Oh sorry....I mean "Bhabhiji... anything you need, just tell me!"
Komolini's mind created a strange visual quite to her shock at that very moment....
The imaginary visual -
A thin mist occurred inside the entire compartment from somewhere unknown as Komolini felt the ambience darken a little. She got up in a panic "H...hiyann..." but noticed her son disappearing magically in the mist and the same stranger had got up and slowly unbuttoned his shirt. The Ac also increased its temperature, making his musky aroma hit her nose and she looked to the other side in shame but didn't move one bit as the man conversed with her very very sensually....
"I know bhabhiji.....you are very alone...."
Komolini stepped back but the seat was the limit as the stranger man eventually unbuttoned the last one as well and his chest hair extended further to tickle the exposed belly just above the hidden navel of her curvy body as she shivered and felt her labia throbb. Just then her phone screen buzzed where an imaginary video call of Rupu took place who smiled and strangely encouraged the kinky atmosphere to resume. She gazed at her cousin and the man outside her phone screen and used a frisky tone...
"Go ahead Komo, I am taking care of Probal here. Get some griopes and kisses from this man....so what if he is marathi hmmmm? Your body needs attention!"
The shocking lines from Rupu made Komolini feel small tremors as the bare bodied marathi man now softly caught hold of her pallu and sniffed her face with his lips closer to her's. Each juice droplet on her lips seemed to shiver as the man smelled her sweet scent and complimented..."Sweet bong aroma hmmmmmmm".
"I....I will free my husband soon....."
"I know bhabhiji...."
"But..... my body...."
"doesn't listen right? I know..."
The man shifted aside Komolini's pallu and the moment it fell, she stood still....eyes closed and that is when she noticed her breasts shiver....they were heaving up and down within her blouse....perhaps sensing an aching anticipation of a firm potential grope on them.
"Plll...eaaasee....I...I am married..." but the bigger man hugged her firm till his digits dug onto her creamy back. Sssssssshhmmmmmmmmmmm......small low moans could be heard from the Bengali wife's soft glossy lips as the man groped her wide motherly hips and began kneading them with small flirty whispers into her ear...
"Nobody will know bhabhiji..........nobody...."
But the grope was wicked and the her blouse clad breasts were already rubbing against his chest. Her labia slowly turned into a faucet as it leaked and kept leaking juices that dribbled down the berth floor and made it shiny till the drops touched both their feet but the man didn't mind.
However the moment his hand came close to her mangalsutra...
Komolini burst into a loud groan......"NNN..NOOOOO !!!"
....
She opens her eyes to see the unknown man seated and looking at her in absolute shock, while she realises that it was just a weird awful hallucination and nothing else.
"Bhabhiji.....are you okay?"
Komolini covers her mouth for a while and then takes a deep breath...."I...I am sorry and she looks up to see Hiyan deep asleep. Sitting down, she looks outside to see the train slow down.
"Here we are atlast!" The man smiled and looked out to point at the station board drawing Komolini's attention equally as she gazed to see the destination board painted in yellow and black bold text...
Welcome to Pune Station
The moment Rupu stepped beyond the final security gate, she felt as though she had crossed into an entirely different world. The prison was not merely a building of concrete and iron; it seemed to possess a presence of its own. The air was thick and oppressive, carrying a stale mixture of sweat, rust, damp walls, disinfectant, and countless years of human misery. Every breath felt heavier than the last. The dim tube lights hanging from the ceilings cast a sickly glow over the corridors, illuminating cracked walls and rusted bars that appeared to stretch endlessly in every direction. Somewhere in the distance, metal clanged against metal. Somewhere else, a man laughed—a short, unpleasant sound that died almost as quickly as it had begun. The noise echoed strangely through the passageways, making the prison feel larger than it really was.
Rupu instinctively adjusted the pink pallu resting over her shoulder.
Only now did she realize how absurdly bright her saree appeared in this place. The soft pink fabric looked almost foreign amidst the shades of grey, brown, and faded green that dominated the prison. For a moment she felt foolish for wearing it. She had not chosen it for any particular reason. It had simply been the first saree her hand had reached for that morning. Yet standing here, surrounded by hardened faces and stained walls, she felt conspicuous in a way she had never expected. The pink seemed to attract attention.
She disliked that feeling.
But at the same time, something about the dim ambience was darkly arousing.
Trying to ignore her growing discomfort, she continued forward, her sandals producing soft sounds against the concrete floor. She was busy rehearsing questions she intended to ask her client when a large figure suddenly brushed past her shoulder with enough force to nearly knock her sideways.
The impact startled her.
Annoyance immediately replaced surprise.
"Hey... stop!"
The words escaped her before she could think.
The man stopped.
Slowly.
Too slowly.
Something about the deliberate manner in which he halted made her stomach tighten.
He turned around and looked at her.
Only then did she realize he was wearing a prison uniform.
The white fabric hung loosely from his broad frame. The outfit was stained and wrinkled, making it impossible to guess how long he had been wearing it. His face was rough and weathered. A thick beard covered most of his jaw, while his eyes possessed a strange stillness that unsettled her immediately. They were not the eyes of a man embarrassed at being confronted.
They were the eyes of a man evaluating a challenge.
For several seconds neither spoke.
The corridor around them seemed to fall silent.
The prisoner took a step toward her.
Then another.
Rupu remained where she was, refusing to move back despite the growing unease spreading through her chest. She was a lawyer. She dealt with criminals. She had spent years speaking confidently in courtrooms.
Yet something about this man felt different.
Dangerous.
Not because he was shouting.
Not because he was threatening.
Because he appeared completely comfortable.
The sort of comfort only possessed by men who had spent years doing whatever they wanted without caring about consequences.
The prisoner's gaze moved slowly across her face before descending lower. His eyes lingered openly, making no attempt whatsoever to hide their intentions. Rupu immediately felt exposed. A pulse of anger mixed with embarrassment shot through her. She folded her arms instinctively but stopped halfway, unwilling to reveal her discomfort.
The man seemed amused by her effort.
Then, without warning, his hand reached toward her.
His fingers caught the edge of her pink pallu.
Rupu froze.
The other firm hand touched the exposed portion of her belly and gave it a slight but shameless squeeze.
For a moment she could scarcely process what had happened.
The gesture was casual.
Almost insulting her dignity.
As though he considered touching her entirely normal.
Entirely acceptable.
She grabbed the fabric immediately, but the prisoner merely tightened his grip for a second before releasing it. The brief contact was enough to send a wave of humiliation through her body.
Her heart began beating harder.
She looked around.
What she saw disturbed her more than the prisoner's actions.
Nobody cared.
Two guards stood farther down the corridor.
Several prisoners lingered nearby.
A worker pushed a trolley loaded with supplies.
Yet not a single person reacted.
The indifference surrounding the incident was almost worse than the incident itself. It suggested that boundaries were fragile here. That visitors entered this place at their own risk. That dignity itself was negotiable within these walls.
The prisoner stepped closer.
Close enough for Rupu to smell sweat and tobacco on him.
Close enough for her to notice the old scars scattered across his face and neck.
Close enough to make her understand that if he chose to frighten her further, there would be little she could do.
For the first time since entering the prison, genuine fear touched her.
Not panic nor helplessness.
Just a cold realization that she was standing in a place where the normal rules of society felt disturbingly distant.
Then a thunderous voice shattered the moment.
"RAGHAV SINGH! STOP IT!"
The man stopped and shifted his hand from the pink pallu and snaps an angry finger towards Rupu and she already felt a bit weak. There were blood stains on the white prison outfit of the big man as he walked off, giving an impression of a long time criminal and a butcher combined. Rupu was glad he left as she felt small stirs looking at those red stains and realised the violence the man was probably used to causing and ignoring the fact as to why a prisoner like him roamed around as if it was his house, she finally met the source of that loud voice.
Ganpat Gawande.
His demeanour was even more annoying. Around three buttons remained loosened on his shirt. A clear expensive golden chain shimmered in contrast to his brown tone and rubbing his bald scalp, he went near and stared at the curvy lawyer and his gaze alone stripped away half of Rupu's dignity as she silently made sure her pallu was dbangd with balance on her creamy shoulder.
Walking closer, the man asked almost impatiently....."yes madam?"
"I have come to see Mr Probal Chatterjee. I am his advocate!"
"Lovely saree vakil sahiba...." Ganpat walked around her. His mannerism very chauvenistic already as he seemed to even smell her too and just then something unexpected happened. Two havaldars caught hold of a prisoner and dragged him to one of the cells, quite against his useless pleadings and Ganpat shouted at the man....
"Aayeee shut up re! Take him inside the cell and strip him and thrash every part of his body till he speaks up!!"
Sheer potential violent tone from an already intimidating looking man as Rupu shivered deep within and fell a twitch in her nipples within the blouse and she felt so embarrassed. One more small tremor passed her as she felt him smack his bals head once more and take a deep sigh before saying...."oh that gold biscuit smuggler!"
"He isn't a criminal! He is falsely accused....." Rupu maintained her professional demenour as she gazed at the aggresive aura of the officer and wondered why was she so warmed up by such a presence. The next big surprise came when Ganpat laughed and placing hands on his hips, he clearly said....
"I don't think he can be considered innocent!"
"Why not?"
"Because I am saying so! The evidences are against him!"
Saying so Gangat eyed her from top to bottom once again and with an even more wolf like gaze. On the other hand Rupu with her glossy pink nails held on the papers firm and trembled under the attention, but the trembling was highly ambiguous as it was a combination of tension and a dark arousal beaming together at the same time.
Just then, the other recently dragged criminal kept making soft pleading murmurs as he was getting whacked hard by belts and rods.
THWAKKK
THWAKKKKKKKK
The sounds never ceased as the man helplessly squirmed and Ganpat just casually allowed her to resume her duty "go on....the cell in the exact middle!" and then himself went ahead and entered the cell and took off his belt. Strangely Rupu didn't move. Her sadomasochism fetish slowly crept up and surrounded her rational mindset as her shaking fingers caught the hem of her pink saree with low sexual moans from her parted glossy lips as Ganpat thrashed and almost made the criminal bleed with the thwack of his belt alone.
The sight was awfully brutal as it blended the jungle with the city in a way Rupu couldn't ignore and she went to a corner and covered her groin area with the papers and slowly rubbed the area around her navel slowly and circled the same navel hole with the random criminal pleading for release but when the thrashing expanded with the obscene violent sounds being emitted out due to Ganpat's aggressive belt. That is when Rupu scratched the pink material below her navel and arround the throbbing area that clearly had very puffed up labia by now.
"Such violence.....blood stains......gosh the man's strong dominant beastly aura....look at him moan and groan....helpless beta animal....."
Words such as these lingered through Rupu in and out and before she could go beyond decency and rub her itches even more, a havaldar came upto her and made her shake off her hand from her groin zone and stand straight as the man pointed towards Probal's cell and spoke in an emotional cold voice almost.....
"Madamji....he is asking for you!"
Rupu gained her senses back and looked towards the shown direction.
She walked slowly as the sound of Ganpat's thrashing eventually faded off and to her relief she reached a silent corner with nothing but a dim lit corridor and her cousin's innocent husband holding the bars and looking at her silently. His eyes having some amount of hope as she walked closer.
"Rupu....." Probal barely had the voice to speak but his darkened tunnels seemed to lit up a bit on seing her.
"Probal...." Rupu passed a soft sigh and continued...."tell me what exactly happened!"
.......................
Meanwhile inside Duronto Express -
By the time evening settled comfortably over the train, the compartment had acquired the strange familiarity that often developed among long-distance passengers. The initial awkwardness had faded. People had discovered where their bags belonged, where they preferred to sit, and how much conversation they wished to engage in. The steady hum of the air-conditioning now provided welcome relief from the oppressive heat they had endured earlier. Outside the window, fields and small towns drifted past in an endless procession while inside the coach everyone slowly adapted to the rhythm of the journey.
Komolini still unaware of what her son went through that day, was more focused in her own thoughts that kept lingering on Probal and only Probal. Although her subconscious attention still kept moving towards the unknown stranger besides her and suddenly he gets up and rushes for a washroom break. The lurking stare finally faded for a moment as Komolini still looked at her pallu and made sure it was well placed on her shoulder edge, although the stare from this non Bengali burly man had sent some jolts inside her and to which she felt even more embarrassed due to her son being right on the top berth and the shiver was wicked to say the least.
Unknown to Hiyan, she even takes out the small mirror and somehow smacks her lips twice, making them have this natural wet gloss for some reason and she assured herself....
"Certainly not for that man.....but I need to be presentable...."
But she didn't ask further and just then the man's phone buzzed. Komolini kept her small mirror back into her bag and watched the phone screen just randomly and was surprised to the point that her eyes just widened on their own. The name on the screen was "Baiko". What did it mean? wondered Komolini as she ignored and gazed outside and again with further buzzing, she looked into the screen once more. Hiyan played his video games in absolute oblivion while Komolini kept herself engaged back in thoughts regarding how her husband was in the awful jail.
Just as her curiosity took a leap, the man returned with a smile and she stepped back into her normal pose and just pretended to browse her phone. However once the man engaged in a purely marathi conversation with an apparently flirtatious tone with chuckles, whispers and even some wet kisses on the screen with a kinky 'pccch pcchh' sound. The sounds weakened Komolini as ahs felt small shivers pass through her ample breasts that heaved up and down and she almost had glassy eyes. Her long nails touching the thick rim of the table slab in between, firmly....to resist the small memories Probal gave her...
Be it, the light touches during kitchen as she cooked.
Or the feathery soothing rubs on her blouse clad back right when Hiyan would be in the house.
But it had been ages since that happened and her insides had dried out and she couldn't ignore much on the fact that she was very very desperate for a male touch on her mature curves that blossomed each year as her son grew up. She sighed and felt bothered on how much the man talked and the dry kisses continued. Just randomly Komolini seemed to make an eye contact for a fraction of second and with the same pouty lips gesture, the man also eyed her at that precise moment and she shifted her eyes back on her phone screen and breathed in sheer disappointment...."When was the last time I had such a conversation with Probal..."
After some more flirtatious conversation, the man disconnected and his attention got back to Komolini who now tried for Rupu once more, but the phone was switched off as the prison didn't allow calls for outsiders, but unaware of that Komolini felt more and more restless to reach Pune and free her husband with the help of her cousin and get back to her normal life in Kolkata and just then....the chirpy marathi tone....
"Vahini ji!"
Komolini looked confused and that is when the man chuckled and smacked his head....."Oh sorry....I mean "Bhabhiji... anything you need, just tell me!"
Komolini's mind created a strange visual quite to her shock at that very moment....
The imaginary visual -
A thin mist occurred inside the entire compartment from somewhere unknown as Komolini felt the ambience darken a little. She got up in a panic "H...hiyann..." but noticed her son disappearing magically in the mist and the same stranger had got up and slowly unbuttoned his shirt. The Ac also increased its temperature, making his musky aroma hit her nose and she looked to the other side in shame but didn't move one bit as the man conversed with her very very sensually....
"I know bhabhiji.....you are very alone...."
Komolini stepped back but the seat was the limit as the stranger man eventually unbuttoned the last one as well and his chest hair extended further to tickle the exposed belly just above the hidden navel of her curvy body as she shivered and felt her labia throbb. Just then her phone screen buzzed where an imaginary video call of Rupu took place who smiled and strangely encouraged the kinky atmosphere to resume. She gazed at her cousin and the man outside her phone screen and used a frisky tone...
"Go ahead Komo, I am taking care of Probal here. Get some griopes and kisses from this man....so what if he is marathi hmmmm? Your body needs attention!"
The shocking lines from Rupu made Komolini feel small tremors as the bare bodied marathi man now softly caught hold of her pallu and sniffed her face with his lips closer to her's. Each juice droplet on her lips seemed to shiver as the man smelled her sweet scent and complimented..."Sweet bong aroma hmmmmmmm".
"I....I will free my husband soon....."
"I know bhabhiji...."
"But..... my body...."
"doesn't listen right? I know..."
The man shifted aside Komolini's pallu and the moment it fell, she stood still....eyes closed and that is when she noticed her breasts shiver....they were heaving up and down within her blouse....perhaps sensing an aching anticipation of a firm potential grope on them.
"Plll...eaaasee....I...I am married..." but the bigger man hugged her firm till his digits dug onto her creamy back. Sssssssshhmmmmmmmmmmm......small low moans could be heard from the Bengali wife's soft glossy lips as the man groped her wide motherly hips and began kneading them with small flirty whispers into her ear...
"Nobody will know bhabhiji..........nobody...."
But the grope was wicked and the her blouse clad breasts were already rubbing against his chest. Her labia slowly turned into a faucet as it leaked and kept leaking juices that dribbled down the berth floor and made it shiny till the drops touched both their feet but the man didn't mind.
However the moment his hand came close to her mangalsutra...
Komolini burst into a loud groan......"NNN..NOOOOO !!!"
....
She opens her eyes to see the unknown man seated and looking at her in absolute shock, while she realises that it was just a weird awful hallucination and nothing else.
"Bhabhiji.....are you okay?"
Komolini covers her mouth for a while and then takes a deep breath...."I...I am sorry and she looks up to see Hiyan deep asleep. Sitting down, she looks outside to see the train slow down.
"Here we are atlast!" The man smiled and looked out to point at the station board drawing Komolini's attention equally as she gazed to see the destination board painted in yellow and black bold text...
Welcome to Pune Station
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