Adultery Noida wife's descent into Quicksand ( New Novel)

[SilverArrow]

He looked at Monica with a small smile.
“Bhabhi, aap manage kar logi na?”
(Bhabhi, will you be able to manage?)

Monica smiled, her eyes sparkling with a hint of sass.
“Why not?” she said lightly. Then she tilted her head and added in a playful but pointed tone,
“Though I am not very sure about Rakesh…”

For a moment there was silence.Then both Bheem and Ustad burst out laughing.
Bheem leaned back and looked at Rakesh.
“Arre Rakesh bhai, what is this ? Where is your stamina bhai” (Arre Rakesh bhai, what is this? Where is your stamina bhai)

Ustad joined in, shaking his head with mock disappointment.
“Come on yaar, join some gym or something. Yeh behenji wali harkat kab tak chalegi? Pahad chadhna bhi mushkil hai aapko.” (Come on yaar, join some gym or something. How long will this behenji behaviour continue? Even climbing a mountain will be difficult for you.)

Rakesh’s face turned slightly red, burning with embarrassment at being taunted in front of his wife & mother. He gave a small, awkward smile and nodded.
“I will try…” he said quietly.

Monica, looked at her husband and laughed and mimicked him in a playful, high-pitched voice,
“I will try........ That's good atleast”
She dragged the words out teasingly, then stood up with a smile and walked toward the kitchen, her tight leggings clung to her ass, showcasing her ass perfectly.
Sasuma watched her bahu’s swaying ass as she disappeared into the kitchen. Her chest felt tight about something, what she heard broke the old woman from inside
Ustad saying " Behenji wala harkat mat karo" (Don’t do this behenji type of behaviour)
Sasuma felt bad. Did she raise a sissy then? Her mind cluttered with random thoughts and memories of Rakesh as young teenager.

A few minutes later, Monica returned with a fresh plate of pakodas.
Ustad, still in a playful mood, suddenly reached out and gave Rakesh’s thigh a light squeeze.
“Arre dekh toh sahi,” he said with a laugh,
“Iske thighs toh chidiyon se bhi patle hain! Kya yaar Rakesh bhai ?? Gym join kar lo , warna shaadi mein bhi peeche reh jaoge.”
(Arre look at this. His thighs are thinner than birds! What yaar Rakesh bhai?? Join the gym, otherwise you’ll be left behind even in the wedding.)

Monica smiled softly and said, "Aree Ustad Bhaisaab , don't tell me I go to this Gym ...and these Gym wale ladke roz leg day karte hain... I don't know what fetish men have with their thighs..… bilkul banyan ke ped jaisa mota aur strong banaye hai sab thighs ko”

She said it casually, almost innocently, but the words hung in the air.

Ustad looked at her with a grin.
“Phir toh aapko hamare thighs dekhne chahiye, Bhabhi.” (Then you should see our thighs, Bhabhi.)

Monica smiled, shaking her head lightly as she straightened up.

“Enough…mere husband ko dikhao.usse acha lagega ...woh agar kuch seekh paye..” she said, smiling, and walked back towards the kitchen. (Enough… show it to my husband. It will be good for him… if he learns something..)

Rakesh just silently heard it and then changed the topic to the Football World Cup!

Both men gobbled up the pakodas and intended to leave. They handed over the wedding card to Rakesh and once again requested him to attend it. They got up to leave...

Sasuma felt a tight knot form in her stomach.
Bahu.. itni besharam kaise ho sakti hai? (This girl… how can she be so shameless?)

Do mard ghar mein hain… aur woh bina bra ke baithi hai? (There are two men in the house… and she is sitting without a bra?)
Uski itni badi choochiyan… har baar hil rahi hain… aur yeh dono dekh bhi rahe hain. (Her breasts are so big… they keep jiggling… and these two are also watching.)






She looked at her son Rakesh. These men didn’t look like normal friends.

Bheem and Ustad finally got up to leave. They both bent down again and touched Sasuma’s feet.
“Namaste Aunty,” they said politely.
Ustad turned to Bheem.
“Tu neeche jaake bike start kar de. Main jaldi haath dhokar aata hoon.” (You go down and start the bike. I’ll quickly wash my hands and come.)

Bheem nodded and went downstairs.
Monica, who was standing near the kitchen, said casually, “Come, I will give you a towel.” (Come, I will give you a towel.)

The washroom was inside the house, down a small passage away from the drawing room where Sasuma and Rakesh were sitting. Monica walked ahead of him. Her loose T-shirt swayed with every step, Ustad walked behind her, his eyes on her ass.

They entered the small washroom. Monica opened the cabinet above the sink, searching for a hand towel. She was slightly bent forward, standing on her toes, trying to reach the back of the shelf.
Ustad turned on the tap and washed his hands slowly under the running water.
Monica was still looking inside the cabinet,
“Ruko… towel nahi mil raha,” she muttered. (Wait… I am not getting the towel,)


Ustad turned off the tap. His hands were dripping wet. He stepped closer to her in the narrow space.
Without saying a word, he raised his wet hands and placed them on her ass and started wiping his hands on the fabric of her leggings. His palms moved slowly across her lower back and sides, drying themselves on her clothes.

Monica froze. Her eyes widened.
“Shit… what are you doing?” she whispered sharply, her voice low and nervous. “Sasuma is right outside…”

The wet patches spread across the light-coloured fabric of her T-shirt & her leggings, made it cling slightly to her skin at the hips and lower back.
Monica glanced nervously toward the open washroom door, terrified that Sasuma might walk down the passage any second.

“Aree, with these wet hands how can I ride a bike ? You took ages to give a towel ..so I thought……”

Ustad casually walked out of the washroom like nothing had happened. Monica walked behind him hesitantly.

Monica was coming down from the high of the evening. She had begun to feel guilty about her behavior. At the same time, her pussy gushed at the thought of ustad miya grabbing her ass in the washroom. She could still feel the palm of his hands on her fat ass.








Why can’t rakesh be more like that? She still loved him but he could not fulfil her womanly needs.
Only  if rakesh was more assertive, she would not have to look outside her household and feel guilty for fulfilling her natural womanly needs.

The dark Discovery

The next morning, the flat was quiet except for the low hum of the AC. Sasuma had woken up early as usual. She was walking past her son’s bedroom when she heard voices inside. The door was slightly ajar. She slowed down.

Rakesh’s voice came first, low and hesitant. “So you really want to visit Ustad’s village for  his sister’s wedding?” There was a short pause.

Monica’s voice followed, calm but firm.
“Yea, what’s the issue? It’s your friend’s event… and it would be a good change from the monotonous routine.”

Rakesh sounded uncomfortable. “Not that way, Mon… it’s just too remote a place. Village, mountains… not easy.”
Monica laughed softly. The sound was light, almost playful, but there was an edge to it.
“So what? Let me know if you’re not coming. I will go with Ustad Miya… then..”

The words hung in the air for a moment.
Monica’s tone sharpened slightly, though she ended it with a smile in her voice.
“Chalo, see you. I am getting late for office.”

Sasuma, quickly moved away before they could notice her. She went to the kitchen, but her mind heavy.
I will go with Ustad

The way Monica said it… so casually. As if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Later that day, Sasuma was looking for a safety pin. She remembered Rakesh kept a small box of sewing things in his drawer. She opened it quietly while he was in the living room watching TV.
She moved a few papers aside. Her fingers brushed against something small and hard. She pulled it out.

A small strip of blue tablets.
Her eyes narrowed as she read the name printed clearly on the foil.
Viagra.

She stared at it for a long moment. Then she pushed aside a few more things in the drawer. Behind a small box of medicines, she found another bottle. The label was clear.
Testosterone Booster.
Her hand froze.

Rakesh’s hesitation. His weak smile when Bheem and Ustad mocked him. The way he never stood up for himself. The way Monica sometimes looked at him — not with anger, but with a quiet, almost pitying patience. It all made sense now

Her son was struggling. He was trying hard — the tablets, the supplements — but it wasn’t enough. He was timid. Insecure.

A pale gloom settled over her.
She slowly closed the drawer and stood up. Her chest felt tight. She felt bad for her son — really bad. Rakesh had always been a quiet, simple boy. He didn’t deserve this kind of humiliation, this quiet failure in his own marriage.

But along with the pity, another feeling rose in her.
Anger.
Not loud. Not sharp. But steady.
Angry at Monica.
How could her bahu behave like this.