27-06-2026, 08:07 PM
The Jinx
“Mama…” Meera leaned closer in the passenger seat, her voice turning into pure mischief. “Do you want me to bring out the secret weapons again?”
Madan’s fingers flexed on the steering wheel, a low sound escaping him. “I would love nothing more, Cheeks.”
She shifted toward him, eyes sparkling with playful challenge. “Then you must promise me one thing first.”
“Anything at all,” he answered quickly.
Her fingertips drew lazy patterns along his thigh, venturing higher. “If I slip back into those scandalous little dresses… I’m doing it only for you. No sneaky thoughts from that naughty puppy about me flirting with anyone else. Not a single one.”
“Absolutely,” he breathed, already stirring. “I promise to keep my kutti in check.”
“Good boy,” she said, her tone light and wicked. “Because if that greedy little thing plants even one silly idea about other boys…”
She reached into her handbag and produced the shiny kitchen scissors, holding them up between them. With a slow, deliberate motion she snipped them once in the air.
Madan’s cock twitched visibly against his pants. “You’re actually carrying those around now?”
“What choice do I have, Mama?” She twirled the scissors with a grin before letting the cool tip rest playfully against his inner thigh. “I have one very naughty puppy who needs proper training. Sometimes he earns sweet carrots… sometimes he needs a little reminder with the stick.”
Madan gave a shaky chuckle, the sound edged with helpless delight. “Message received loud and clear. This puppy will behave and enjoy only the carrots.”
“Speaking of carrots,” she teased, tucking the scissors away with a satisfied little hum, “let’s swing by the storage unit first and grab my suitcase before we reach college. I want to start slipping into those weapons for you right away… and I want you nice and leaking by the time the first one hugs my body.”
Madan’s reply came rough with anticipation. “Yes, boss.”
Next day Meera stepped into the classroom. Anjali and Priya slid in from either side until three of them shared the two-seater bench.
“Cheeks, sudden engagement,” Priya said, elbow brushing hers. “What delicious secret are you hiding?”
Anjali leaned closer, shoulder pressing warm. “Who is the lucky man? What does he do that has you glowing like this?”
Before Meera could answer Priya reached for her hand and lifted it.
“Show us the ring.”
Anjali’s eyes widened as she traced the stone. “Wow, such a big diamond—big enough to make every girl here jealous in the best way.”
Other girls gathered around them now, fingers brushing the band in admiration while happy squeals rose and calls for a treat swelled louder.
“Girls, just a few days back we gave you that big treat,” Meera said.
Anjali shook her head, nudging her playfully. “That was your mama’s treat for placement. This event needs its own celebration. No cheating, Cheeks.”
“Fine,” Meera answered, a soft smile curving her lips. “Let us meet for lunch today at our usual restaurant. I will reveal my fiancé there too.”
When the group reached their familiar restaurant, Meera and Madan were already seated side by side at the centre of the table. Anjali slipped into the chair immediately beside Madan, her thigh grazing his as she settled. Priya took the seat immediately beside Meera.
After they placed their orders and posted photos to Instagram the girls returned to the original question—who was the man.
Before leaving Kanchipuram, Meera’s parents had taken them both to a renowned jewelry store and purchased an exact replica of her ring in Madan’s size.
Instead of answering Meera lifted his ring hand and placed both their hands on the table, fingers laced tight.
The group fell silent at first, stunned by what they had not expected.
Priya broke the pause, eyes sparkling as she reached across to squeeze their joined hands. “Congratulations, Meera and Madan. I always knew you two were made for each other.” The others joined in with their own good wishes, hiding any envy behind bright laughter and quick hugs around the table. Anjali felt deeply disappointed and cheated by Meera yet chose not to make a scene, especially with Madan present. She offered her congratulations laced with sarcasm but in the excitement, Meera missed the undertone.
“So, give us the story,” Priya said, leaning in with a wicked grin.
Another girl asked, “How long has this been going on?” and similar questions followed, voices bubbling with happy curiosity.
“Actually, we had no idea when we went home,” Meera said.
“After I announced the news of leaving for the US both our parents proposed this,” Madan added.
“They were scared Mama would run off with some American girl,” Meera continued, leaning her shoulder against his.
“We both could not find any reason to say no,” Madan said, squeezing her thigh with gentle possession.
“We started imagining what life would be like together,” Meera explained, her gaze softening as she met his eyes.
Madan turned his gaze to Meera, eyes brimming with open tenderness. He lifted her ringed hand to his lips and pressed a slow, reverent kiss to her fingers. “Though I have seen this face every day since she was born,” his voice low and warm with wonder, “the moment our parents proposed marriage… it felt like falling in love with her for the very first time.”
A collective, dreamy sigh rose from the girls. Priya clutched her chest with theatrical delight while the others exchanged wide-eyed, swooning glances, clearly swept away by the sweetness of his words.
“I promised my mother long ago that I would marry whoever she chose,” Meera added. “So, I am stuck with the same old Mama for life.”
“Poor Cheeks,” Madan mocked.
“You two are too much,” Priya laughed, nudging Meera’s arm. “Cheeks, you could never have found a diamond like him on your own.”
“Yes, Cheeks, you should thank your mother,” another girl said, winking as she raised her glass.
“You have hit the jackpot, Cheeks,” one more added, leaning in with a playful elbow nudge.
“I know. I was only joking,” Meera replied, her hand tightening around Madan’s.
“I am the one who hit the jackpot,” Madan said, drawing her closer with a tender smile.
The girls praised Madan even more for his romantic words, voices rising in delighted teasing as they clapped and leaned across the table to pat his shoulder. Meera noticed.
“My Mama is now officially off limits,” she declared with a light laugh. “Do not ever drool over him.” The warning beneath her playful tone remained unmistakable.
Everyone laughed as lunch progressed, the table alive with happy chatter and clinking glasses. Meera and Madan exchanged a quiet glance confirming their plan had worked perfectly. Before meeting the group, Meera had prepared Madan for this story. She felt proud he had delivered it so well.
They did not notice Anjali remained completely silent throughout the conversation. She sensed something did not add up and believed Meera continued spinning her lies.
In her final year, Meera was buried under projects and lab work. Thanks to Madan’s Motherlode software, which turned simple prompts into flawless programs, every assignment finished in minutes.
The gift of time gave her far more hours with him. In the server room their intimacy reached new peaks as evenings blurred into mutual worship — Meera on her knees sucking his balls before deep-throating his cock while Madan lay beneath her hungrily licking her pussy as she stroked him with curling toes and the light heel kicks he loved.
One evening, one of Madan’s classmates pulled him aside.
“Madan, serious question,” the friend said in a low voice. “You’ve seen Meera with Ravi the entire year… the way they danced, the way they looked at each other. Why didn’t you reject her when your parents proposed?”
Madan smiled gently, completely at peace. “Why would I? What guarantee does any man have that his future wife won’t have had a love story before him? At least I know exactly who she is. I’d rather build my life with someone real than chase an illusion of purity.”
His friend paused, then nodded slowly. “When you put it that way… yeah, that makes sense. Fair enough, Mama.”
News of Meera’s engagement to Madan swept through the ladies’ hostel like wildfire. Girls burned with envy, remembering her year-long romance with Ravi, and now whispered “bitch” as she suddenly became engaged to him the day after he landed his dream job. As envy sharpened, single girls flirted openly with Madan even when Meera stood beside him. She countered by increasing her public affection, openly holding his hand and pulling him into soft lingering kisses in the corridors while buying him his favourite foods, playfully hoping to make him a little softer around the edges and less appealing to rivals.
By the next week she knew for certain Anjali was avoiding her completely. That morning, before class, Meera sat down beside her. Anjali started to stand and move to another seat. Meera caught her wrist.
“Anju, I want to talk to you. I want to share the real story with you.”
Anjali stayed on her feet. “Just answer one question at least once truthfully.”
“Sure. Ask me anything.”
“Did your mama ever have that girlfriend back home?”
“No,” Meera said.
Before she could add another word Anjali jerked her hand free, flashed her middle finger and snapped, “Don’t ever come near me, chronic liar,” then walked away.
Meera sat frozen, tears already spilling down her cheeks. She knew Anjali’s anger was completely valid. Their friendship lay damaged beyond repair.
The moment the day ended, Meera walked briskly toward the server room, heart still heavy. When she pushed the door open, the small space stood empty and quiet. She dropped into the chair, elbows on the desk, and waited.
Twenty minutes later the door clicked again. Madan stepped inside, his shoulders slightly slumped, the usual gentle light in his eyes dimmed.
“Mama,” she said softly, rising at once, “you look sad.”
He closed the door behind him and turned to her, concern etching his features. “Cheeks… you look like you’ve been crying. What happened?”
“Nothing. Tell me why you’re sad first.”
“No biggie. You first.”
Meera exhaled, stepping close until their bodies nearly touched. She told him everything—the sharp fight with Anjali, the hissed “bitch” that now followed her down every corridor.
Madan listened without interrupting, then cupped her face with both hands, thumbs brushing away the faint traces of dried tears. “Cheeks, with Anjali it is simply fate playing its hand on both of you. There is no wrong in what either of you did.”
“But I don’t think she will ever accept me again.”
“Time will heal everything,” he murmured, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead. “I am right here for you. One day she will understand.”
“I will wait for that day. But the other girls calling me bitch… I can’t stand it. I did nothing to deserve their hatred.”
A small, knowing smile curved his lips. He slid his hands down to her waist and drew her flush against him. “Then own it, my love. Why let their words wound you? Next time someone whispers it behind your back, walk straight up to them and say, ‘Yes, I am a bitch. I own my Mama and I own Ravi. What are you going to do about it?’”
Meera felt something tight loosen inside her chest. The weight she had carried all day lifted at the quiet strength of his perspective. What they called her did not change who she truly was. A slow smile bloomed across her face.
“Yeah,” she whispered, voice gaining strength. “Let those envious little bitches call me whatever they want. I don’t care. If they dare, let them come say it to my face.”
“That’s the spirit of my beautiful bitch,” Madan said, eyes sparkling with affection as he gave her breasts a light, playful pinch through her top.
Meera let out a bright, surprised laugh. In that moment she marveled at how effortlessly he could shift her entire world. She had spent the day in tears, yet five minutes in his arms left her light, happy, and already growing wet between her thighs. She noticed, too, how casually he had slipped Ravi into the conversation. Her fingers trailed down his front, unzipped him, and cupped his balls in a gentle, possessive hold.
“Using this chance, your kutti is trying something again,” she teased.
Madan knew he had been caught. He tried to downplay it with an innocent shrug. “Kutti didn’t do anything.”
“I will inform Malar that you said I own Ravi. Unlike me, she will not take any pity. she will kick your balls for real.”
“Okay, correction,” he said, winking even as her fingers tightened. “You owned Ravi.”
Meera squeezed a little harder and reached for her handbag with her free hand. Madan’s eyes widened; he knew exactly what she was after.
“Cheeks, I was only kidding,” he said quickly, voice warm with laughter. “You only own me. No one else. No need for violence.”
Meera laughed again, the sound bright and full of affection, and loosened her grip. “Hmmm. Your kutti lives one more day.”
She let her fingers rest softly on him now. “So, Mama… what was your no-biggie sad news?”
Madan exhaled, resting his forehead against hers. “I just came from the HOD’s room. He introduced a couple of third-year UG students.”
“Okay…”
“He wants me to teach them everything about the apps I built for the college. They will take over from next year.”
“You are a wonderful teacher,” she said gently. “The HOD is simply preparing to live without you. What is sad about that?”
“I have to start training them here from tomorrow evening.”
The words settled between them. Meera’s breath caught as the truth sank in. The years of their secret sanctuary were ending. This room, their private world, would no longer belong to them alone.
“Mama,” she whispered, voice small, “I know someone envious has jinxed us. All these bad things happening at once…”
“There is no such thing as a jinx, my love.” He kissed the tip of her nose, then her lips, slow and reassuring. “We will figure it out. We always do.”
Meera felt the sadness return, heavier now.
“Mama…” Meera leaned closer in the passenger seat, her voice turning into pure mischief. “Do you want me to bring out the secret weapons again?”
Madan’s fingers flexed on the steering wheel, a low sound escaping him. “I would love nothing more, Cheeks.”
She shifted toward him, eyes sparkling with playful challenge. “Then you must promise me one thing first.”
“Anything at all,” he answered quickly.
Her fingertips drew lazy patterns along his thigh, venturing higher. “If I slip back into those scandalous little dresses… I’m doing it only for you. No sneaky thoughts from that naughty puppy about me flirting with anyone else. Not a single one.”
“Absolutely,” he breathed, already stirring. “I promise to keep my kutti in check.”
“Good boy,” she said, her tone light and wicked. “Because if that greedy little thing plants even one silly idea about other boys…”
She reached into her handbag and produced the shiny kitchen scissors, holding them up between them. With a slow, deliberate motion she snipped them once in the air.
Madan’s cock twitched visibly against his pants. “You’re actually carrying those around now?”
“What choice do I have, Mama?” She twirled the scissors with a grin before letting the cool tip rest playfully against his inner thigh. “I have one very naughty puppy who needs proper training. Sometimes he earns sweet carrots… sometimes he needs a little reminder with the stick.”
Madan gave a shaky chuckle, the sound edged with helpless delight. “Message received loud and clear. This puppy will behave and enjoy only the carrots.”
“Speaking of carrots,” she teased, tucking the scissors away with a satisfied little hum, “let’s swing by the storage unit first and grab my suitcase before we reach college. I want to start slipping into those weapons for you right away… and I want you nice and leaking by the time the first one hugs my body.”
Madan’s reply came rough with anticipation. “Yes, boss.”
Next day Meera stepped into the classroom. Anjali and Priya slid in from either side until three of them shared the two-seater bench.
“Cheeks, sudden engagement,” Priya said, elbow brushing hers. “What delicious secret are you hiding?”
Anjali leaned closer, shoulder pressing warm. “Who is the lucky man? What does he do that has you glowing like this?”
Before Meera could answer Priya reached for her hand and lifted it.
“Show us the ring.”
Anjali’s eyes widened as she traced the stone. “Wow, such a big diamond—big enough to make every girl here jealous in the best way.”
Other girls gathered around them now, fingers brushing the band in admiration while happy squeals rose and calls for a treat swelled louder.
“Girls, just a few days back we gave you that big treat,” Meera said.
Anjali shook her head, nudging her playfully. “That was your mama’s treat for placement. This event needs its own celebration. No cheating, Cheeks.”
“Fine,” Meera answered, a soft smile curving her lips. “Let us meet for lunch today at our usual restaurant. I will reveal my fiancé there too.”
When the group reached their familiar restaurant, Meera and Madan were already seated side by side at the centre of the table. Anjali slipped into the chair immediately beside Madan, her thigh grazing his as she settled. Priya took the seat immediately beside Meera.
After they placed their orders and posted photos to Instagram the girls returned to the original question—who was the man.
Before leaving Kanchipuram, Meera’s parents had taken them both to a renowned jewelry store and purchased an exact replica of her ring in Madan’s size.
Instead of answering Meera lifted his ring hand and placed both their hands on the table, fingers laced tight.
The group fell silent at first, stunned by what they had not expected.
Priya broke the pause, eyes sparkling as she reached across to squeeze their joined hands. “Congratulations, Meera and Madan. I always knew you two were made for each other.” The others joined in with their own good wishes, hiding any envy behind bright laughter and quick hugs around the table. Anjali felt deeply disappointed and cheated by Meera yet chose not to make a scene, especially with Madan present. She offered her congratulations laced with sarcasm but in the excitement, Meera missed the undertone.
“So, give us the story,” Priya said, leaning in with a wicked grin.
Another girl asked, “How long has this been going on?” and similar questions followed, voices bubbling with happy curiosity.
“Actually, we had no idea when we went home,” Meera said.
“After I announced the news of leaving for the US both our parents proposed this,” Madan added.
“They were scared Mama would run off with some American girl,” Meera continued, leaning her shoulder against his.
“We both could not find any reason to say no,” Madan said, squeezing her thigh with gentle possession.
“We started imagining what life would be like together,” Meera explained, her gaze softening as she met his eyes.
Madan turned his gaze to Meera, eyes brimming with open tenderness. He lifted her ringed hand to his lips and pressed a slow, reverent kiss to her fingers. “Though I have seen this face every day since she was born,” his voice low and warm with wonder, “the moment our parents proposed marriage… it felt like falling in love with her for the very first time.”
A collective, dreamy sigh rose from the girls. Priya clutched her chest with theatrical delight while the others exchanged wide-eyed, swooning glances, clearly swept away by the sweetness of his words.
“I promised my mother long ago that I would marry whoever she chose,” Meera added. “So, I am stuck with the same old Mama for life.”
“Poor Cheeks,” Madan mocked.
“You two are too much,” Priya laughed, nudging Meera’s arm. “Cheeks, you could never have found a diamond like him on your own.”
“Yes, Cheeks, you should thank your mother,” another girl said, winking as she raised her glass.
“You have hit the jackpot, Cheeks,” one more added, leaning in with a playful elbow nudge.
“I know. I was only joking,” Meera replied, her hand tightening around Madan’s.
“I am the one who hit the jackpot,” Madan said, drawing her closer with a tender smile.
The girls praised Madan even more for his romantic words, voices rising in delighted teasing as they clapped and leaned across the table to pat his shoulder. Meera noticed.
“My Mama is now officially off limits,” she declared with a light laugh. “Do not ever drool over him.” The warning beneath her playful tone remained unmistakable.
Everyone laughed as lunch progressed, the table alive with happy chatter and clinking glasses. Meera and Madan exchanged a quiet glance confirming their plan had worked perfectly. Before meeting the group, Meera had prepared Madan for this story. She felt proud he had delivered it so well.
They did not notice Anjali remained completely silent throughout the conversation. She sensed something did not add up and believed Meera continued spinning her lies.
In her final year, Meera was buried under projects and lab work. Thanks to Madan’s Motherlode software, which turned simple prompts into flawless programs, every assignment finished in minutes.
The gift of time gave her far more hours with him. In the server room their intimacy reached new peaks as evenings blurred into mutual worship — Meera on her knees sucking his balls before deep-throating his cock while Madan lay beneath her hungrily licking her pussy as she stroked him with curling toes and the light heel kicks he loved.
One evening, one of Madan’s classmates pulled him aside.
“Madan, serious question,” the friend said in a low voice. “You’ve seen Meera with Ravi the entire year… the way they danced, the way they looked at each other. Why didn’t you reject her when your parents proposed?”
Madan smiled gently, completely at peace. “Why would I? What guarantee does any man have that his future wife won’t have had a love story before him? At least I know exactly who she is. I’d rather build my life with someone real than chase an illusion of purity.”
His friend paused, then nodded slowly. “When you put it that way… yeah, that makes sense. Fair enough, Mama.”
News of Meera’s engagement to Madan swept through the ladies’ hostel like wildfire. Girls burned with envy, remembering her year-long romance with Ravi, and now whispered “bitch” as she suddenly became engaged to him the day after he landed his dream job. As envy sharpened, single girls flirted openly with Madan even when Meera stood beside him. She countered by increasing her public affection, openly holding his hand and pulling him into soft lingering kisses in the corridors while buying him his favourite foods, playfully hoping to make him a little softer around the edges and less appealing to rivals.
By the next week she knew for certain Anjali was avoiding her completely. That morning, before class, Meera sat down beside her. Anjali started to stand and move to another seat. Meera caught her wrist.
“Anju, I want to talk to you. I want to share the real story with you.”
Anjali stayed on her feet. “Just answer one question at least once truthfully.”
“Sure. Ask me anything.”
“Did your mama ever have that girlfriend back home?”
“No,” Meera said.
Before she could add another word Anjali jerked her hand free, flashed her middle finger and snapped, “Don’t ever come near me, chronic liar,” then walked away.
Meera sat frozen, tears already spilling down her cheeks. She knew Anjali’s anger was completely valid. Their friendship lay damaged beyond repair.
The moment the day ended, Meera walked briskly toward the server room, heart still heavy. When she pushed the door open, the small space stood empty and quiet. She dropped into the chair, elbows on the desk, and waited.
Twenty minutes later the door clicked again. Madan stepped inside, his shoulders slightly slumped, the usual gentle light in his eyes dimmed.
“Mama,” she said softly, rising at once, “you look sad.”
He closed the door behind him and turned to her, concern etching his features. “Cheeks… you look like you’ve been crying. What happened?”
“Nothing. Tell me why you’re sad first.”
“No biggie. You first.”
Meera exhaled, stepping close until their bodies nearly touched. She told him everything—the sharp fight with Anjali, the hissed “bitch” that now followed her down every corridor.
Madan listened without interrupting, then cupped her face with both hands, thumbs brushing away the faint traces of dried tears. “Cheeks, with Anjali it is simply fate playing its hand on both of you. There is no wrong in what either of you did.”
“But I don’t think she will ever accept me again.”
“Time will heal everything,” he murmured, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead. “I am right here for you. One day she will understand.”
“I will wait for that day. But the other girls calling me bitch… I can’t stand it. I did nothing to deserve their hatred.”
A small, knowing smile curved his lips. He slid his hands down to her waist and drew her flush against him. “Then own it, my love. Why let their words wound you? Next time someone whispers it behind your back, walk straight up to them and say, ‘Yes, I am a bitch. I own my Mama and I own Ravi. What are you going to do about it?’”
Meera felt something tight loosen inside her chest. The weight she had carried all day lifted at the quiet strength of his perspective. What they called her did not change who she truly was. A slow smile bloomed across her face.
“Yeah,” she whispered, voice gaining strength. “Let those envious little bitches call me whatever they want. I don’t care. If they dare, let them come say it to my face.”
“That’s the spirit of my beautiful bitch,” Madan said, eyes sparkling with affection as he gave her breasts a light, playful pinch through her top.
Meera let out a bright, surprised laugh. In that moment she marveled at how effortlessly he could shift her entire world. She had spent the day in tears, yet five minutes in his arms left her light, happy, and already growing wet between her thighs. She noticed, too, how casually he had slipped Ravi into the conversation. Her fingers trailed down his front, unzipped him, and cupped his balls in a gentle, possessive hold.
“Using this chance, your kutti is trying something again,” she teased.
Madan knew he had been caught. He tried to downplay it with an innocent shrug. “Kutti didn’t do anything.”
“I will inform Malar that you said I own Ravi. Unlike me, she will not take any pity. she will kick your balls for real.”
“Okay, correction,” he said, winking even as her fingers tightened. “You owned Ravi.”
Meera squeezed a little harder and reached for her handbag with her free hand. Madan’s eyes widened; he knew exactly what she was after.
“Cheeks, I was only kidding,” he said quickly, voice warm with laughter. “You only own me. No one else. No need for violence.”
Meera laughed again, the sound bright and full of affection, and loosened her grip. “Hmmm. Your kutti lives one more day.”
She let her fingers rest softly on him now. “So, Mama… what was your no-biggie sad news?”
Madan exhaled, resting his forehead against hers. “I just came from the HOD’s room. He introduced a couple of third-year UG students.”
“Okay…”
“He wants me to teach them everything about the apps I built for the college. They will take over from next year.”
“You are a wonderful teacher,” she said gently. “The HOD is simply preparing to live without you. What is sad about that?”
“I have to start training them here from tomorrow evening.”
The words settled between them. Meera’s breath caught as the truth sank in. The years of their secret sanctuary were ending. This room, their private world, would no longer belong to them alone.
“Mama,” she whispered, voice small, “I know someone envious has jinxed us. All these bad things happening at once…”
“There is no such thing as a jinx, my love.” He kissed the tip of her nose, then her lips, slow and reassuring. “We will figure it out. We always do.”
Meera felt the sadness return, heavier now.
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