28-06-2026, 11:36 AM
(This post was last modified: 28-06-2026, 12:50 PM by SilverArrow. Edited 2 times in total. Edited 2 times in total.)
The Party
One evening, while Rakesh was still at office, his phone buzzed.
Bheem: Hey mate… we’ve re-started the betting ring. New place, new people. Come join after work. It’ll be fun.
Rakesh stared at the message for a long time before replying.
Rakesh: No Bheem… parents are still here. What will I tell them?
Bheem: Dude, it’s a completely new ring. New crowd. Plus I’m sure you’re pretty fucked up with that new boss of yours.
Rakesh: How do you know about my boss?
Bheem: Come on… we keep track of things. Just come. Ustad’s new place.
Rakesh: What? You opened the ring in his house?
Bheem: It’s just a small dingy under-construction property, yaar. What’s your issue?
Rakesh hesitated for almost twenty minutes before finally typing.
Rakesh: Okay… will see. Where exactly?
Bheem: Ustad’s new house. Off the highway, next to the jungle. I’ll send the location.
That night, Rakesh came home much later than usual. His mother was waiting in the living room with dinner kept warm.
“Where were you?” she asked, trying to keep her voice normal. “We had dinner ready.”
Rakesh avoided her eyes as he removed his shoes.
“Work pressure, Ma. New boss is very strict. Had to stay back and finish some reports.”
The next morning, while Rakesh was getting ready for office, a message popped up in the old WhatsApp group.
Ustad: New ring is live from today. New place also. My new house (though it’s still under construction ?). Small housewarming this Friday. Food and drinks on me.
Rakesh showed the message to Monica while she was getting ready.
Monica raised her eyebrows slightly.
“Ustad Miya got a new house?”
Rakesh nodded while buttoning his shirt.
“It’s not really a proper house. Just some construction property he painted a portion of and restarted the ring there.”
Monica was quiet for a moment as she applied moisturiser on her face. Then she asked,
“Where is this place?”
“Quite far,” Rakesh replied. “Near the highway… overlooking the jungle area.”
Monica let out a small laugh while tying her hair.
“Oh come on… hope there are no leopards around.”
Rakesh smiled faintly.
“He invited us for the housewarming this Friday.”
Monica looked at him for a second, then spoke in a softer tone.
“I know… Come on Rak, you should be happy your friend has come out of this raid wala jhamela. No?”
Rakesh nodded, his voice low.
“Yea… he worked hard for this.”
Monica smiled and walked up to him, gently fixing his collar. “There you go, my boy.”
Friday evening came sooner rather than later. The car left the main highway and took a narrow, poorly lit exit. Within minutes, the world outside changed. Thick forest pressed in on both sides of the road, swallowing the last traces of city light. The further they drove, the darker and quieter it became. Only the low hum of the engine and the occasional rustle of leaves could be heard. The air felt cooler, heavier, carrying the damp, earthy scent of the jungle.
They finally reached a lonely stretch of half-constructed row houses at the end of a deserted street. Rakesh parked the car. A few stray dogs barked lazily in the distance. The lane ahead was uneven, covered in loose pebbles that crunched softly under their feet.
Monica stepped out and began walking carefully in her high heels. The short hem of her deep maroon designer sleeveless kurti shifted with every step, riding up just enough to reveal the full, round curve of her ass before settling back down. Her strappy pencil heels further accentuated the curve of her ass. Her tight white leggings clung to her thighs and hips like a second skin, accentuating every movement.
She had applied maroon lipstick to go with her outfit, also accentuating her facial features. She had also painted her nails black which contrasted with her fair skin. Her mangalsutra further rested on her breasts and further added to the allure of her cleavage showing through the V necked kurti. She wore red bangles along with sindoor which adorned her forehead. Her modern outfit along with traditional symbols of marriage added to the mystique around. She looked the perfect urban upper class married woman.
With each careful step over the uneven ground, her heavy ass jiggled visibly, the fabric stretching and releasing in a slow, rhythmic motion. The cool night air kissed her bare arms, raising faint goosebumps along her fair skin. She could feel the slight chill teasing her nipples, making them stiffen subtly against the thin fabric of her kurti.
In front of the last unit, freshly painted in bold white letters, was a rough signboard that read:
Ustad Miyan Enterprise
Loud music and voices spilled out from inside. The house looked newly built but completely bare — just unfinished walls and floors with the sharp smell of fresh paint still lingering in the air. The gate and railings were half-done, but someone had strung up a few stylish lights outside that cast a warm, almost deceptive glow on the entrance.
As they stepped inside, Ustad spotted them immediately. He was standing near the doorway in his usual tight shirt, half-unbuttoned, his thick black chest hair visible under the dim lights. A wide, hungry grin spread across his face the moment he saw Monica.
“Rakesh bhai! Monica! Finally… waahh!” he called out loudly and walked towards them. He pulled Rakesh into a tight hug before turning to her. His eyes moved over her body slowly, deliberately, taking in the short kurti, the way it hugged her waist and ended high on her hips, and the way her tight leggings shaped her ass.
“Woow Bhabhi…” he said, his voice low and appreciative. “You look so damn hot tonight. Especially with that new hairdo”
Monica laughed softly, tilting her head so her soft waves fell over one shoulder.
“You noticed already, Ustad Miyan, huh?”
Ustad grinned without shame.
“Hard not to”
![[Image: grok-image-1782631152723.jpg]](https://i.ibb.co/trnpM8c/grok-image-1782631152723.jpg)
Inside, one room had been turned into a small dance area with colourful lights and loud music vibrating through the floor. The rest of the house was completely unfurnished — just bare walls and the strong smell of paint. Around twelve to fifteen people were scattered around, mostly men, with only two or three women present. The air was thick with cigarette smoke and the sharp scent of cheap alcohol.
Ustad led them into a smaller room where four heavily built, muscular men were sitting around a table, drinking and playing cards. The atmosphere inside was heavy with smoke and loud laughter.
Ustad announced loudly, “Look who’s here!”
One of the men stood up. He was middle-aged, completely bald, with thick, muscular arms and a strong, intimidating presence. He walked straight to Rakesh and pulled him into a violent, back-slapping hug.
“Arre mera Rakesh bachcha!” he said loudly and laughed.
Monica watched quietly. This man does not look old enough to be his father… why the fuck is he calling him bachcha?
Ustad introduced him.
“This is Monica, Rakesh’s biwi. And Bhabhi, this is Guddu Bhai. He runs one of the biggest betting rings in Delhi.”
Monica smiled politely, folding her hands. “Namaste.”
Guddu Bhai’s eyes moved over her body without any attempt to hide it. They lingered on the way her kurti sat on her full breasts and the curve of her hips in the tight leggings before he finally spoke, his voice rough.
“Arre wah… Rakesh beta, you didn’t tell us you had such a beautiful wife.”
Monica kept her smile, but there was a hint of sass in her voice when she asked,
“How do you know my husband so well?”
Ustad quickly explained that Rakesh had already visited a couple of times. Rakesh looked away, clearly uncomfortable.
Monica felt a sharp flicker of irritation rise in her chest.
Saala… I was stuck at home cooking and serving his fat ass mother while this nawab was happily gambling away here. I have to teach him a lesson. Monica thought to herself.
The guys immediately made Rakesh drink two to three pegs. The alcohol hit him fast. After some time, Monica started feeling claustrophobic in the smoky, crowded room. The loud music, the heavy stares, the smell of sweat and liquor — it was all too much. She excused herself politely.
“I’ll just go around the corner for a bit.”
She walked out into the main area. The house was barren but had some elegant lights and minimal decor. She didn’t feel like drinking with the women present — she barely knew them — and the way most of the men were looking at her made her skin prickle. She could feel their eyes on her ass as she walked, on the way her kurti moved over her breasts.
The DJ played fast Bollywood tracks, and people danced in the other room.
Just then, she noticed Guddu Bhai watching her from across the room. He had been eyeing her for a while, his gaze heavy and unapologetic. After some time, he walked over and stopped in front of her. Because the music was loud, he leaned in close, his voice low and rough near her ear. She could smell the alcohol and cigarette on his breath, and feel the heat radiating from his big, muscular body.
“Nice designer kurti. ...Suits you well… very well.”
Monica turned her head slightly towards him, her voice low and teasing.
“I didn’t wear it for you.”
“ whoever you wore it for… you’re looking really hot in that"
“These compliments won’t get you anything, you know.”
Guddu chuckled, his voice dropping even lower.
“Who said I’m trying to get anything?"
“Is that so? Then maybe you should try harder to control yourself… fair?”
One man came and whispered to his ears "There is a call From sky deck!”
He looked annoyed but nodded.“I’ll be back,” he said to Monica before walking away.
A few minutes later, Rakesh came up to her, his face tense. “Monica?”
She turned to him. “Yeah?”
Rakesh looked uneasy, his voice low.
“That guy you were talking to… he’s Guddu Bhai. He’s pretty notorious in the underworld betting scene.”
“Why are you telling me this now?”
“I just thought… you were talking to him, so…”
Monica scoffed, her voice sharp.
“Really, Rakesh? You’re lecturing me? After you’ve already been coming here and betting with him? Right?”
Rakesh tried to calm her down, his voice low and pleading.
“No, I mean… just be careful, that’s all.”
Monica rolled her eyes, clearly annoyed. “Yeah, sure. I’ll manage.”
Just then, a group of younger guys walked up to her with whiskey bottles in their hands.
“Didi, we’re Ustad bhai’s cousins. These are our college friends. Wanna dance with us?”
Monica looked at them and replied with a playful, sassy smile.
“Accha? You guys are drinking straight from bottles already? At this age?”
Ustad appeared behind them and introduced the two boys properly. Monica looked at him with a teasing expression.
“Quite naughty cousins you got, Ustad Miyan.”
Ustad laughed.
Inside she felt bored, restless, and increasingly irritated. The last one month had been torture — in-laws staying over, no proper sex, no late-night parties, no ganja weekends, no freedom. And now Rakesh was trying to lecture her after everything. These men all fucking control freaks in their own way.
Monica’s mood had already turned dark. She was done playing the good bahu.
After some time, she saw Guddu Bhai standing near the wall again. She walked straight towards him, making sure Rakesh who was standing closeby could see & hear everything.
She stopped in front of Guddu and said casually,
“You did scare me off with those muscles of yours Guddu Bhai, though Thanks for the compliments…”
Guddu looked at her and grinned, his eyes dropping to her chest for a moment before returning to her face.
“..hahahha..Dont worry I wont eat you up.”
Guddu laughed proudly
Monica smiled and leaned in even closer this time, her breasts brushing lightly against his arm as she spoke near his ear. “So… how’s the new ring going?”
Guddu took a slow sip from his glass,
“I control quite a bit of betting in Noida. This one’s new, so there are risks… but we’ll see.”
“Risks from rivals or security officer?” Monica asked
“Mainly rivals,” Guddu replied, his voice rough. “You can’t trust anyone in this line. And what do you do? Corporate job?”
“Nothing as dangerous as you,” Monica smiled, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “I’m just a Sales Manager. Wohi monthly targets, client meetings… then next month the same cycle.”
Guddu smirked, his eyes moving over her body again.
“Ahh… you’re that hot corporate girl in every office. The ones who keep the men’s tools hard during meetings.”
Monica let out a soft laugh, leaning in even closer.
“Guddu Bhai… you’re being so direct.”
Guddu smirked.“So? What do you expect from us goondas?”
“Should I be intimidated Guddu bhai”
Guddu held her gaze for a long moment, “Only if you want to be.”
Rakesh stood a short distance away, hearing everything. He could see how close Monica was standing to Guddu, how she was leaning in, how she was deliberately engaging with him. He felt a sharp, twisting humiliation mixed with something darker — a sick, unwanted thrill at seeing his wife being so openly desired. He felt small. Powerless. Emasculated.
After a while, Monica leaned even closer.. her lips almost brushing his ear as she spoke.
“Hey… the music is really loud here. Will you mind if we go out for a smoke?”
“Yeah… I was thinking to ask you out anyway.… it’s peaceful outside. Let’s go.”
Monica kept her whiskey glass down and turned to Rakesh, her voice casual but loud enough for him to hear clearly. “Rak, I’ll be back…”
Guddu Bhai hit Rakesh lightly on the abdomen and said with a grin,
“Rakesh bachcha… don’t worry. I will take proper care of her.”
Rakesh felt the words like a slap. He stood there, frozen, as he watched Monica walk out with Guddu Bhai. The humiliation burned in his chest. He walked to the corner, picked up an entire bottle of cheap rum, and started drinking heavily. His head spun. He lost balance and stumbled, cutting his forehead slightly on something sharp in the dark.
Someone helped him sit down. “Bhaisaab, tabiyat theek nahi lag rahe. Baitho aap.”
When Monica came back some time later, she found him sitting in the corner, looking dazed. She walked up to him, her kurti slightly adjusted — the neckline pulled down just enough to show a generous amount of cleavage, her mangalsutra playing hide and seek between her full breasts.
“Did you have dinner, Rakesh? You didn’t eat anything since lunch… come, let’s grab something. I’m hungry.”
Rakesh nodded numbly, staring at her cleavage. “Yea… okay.”
While they were eating in a quieter corner, Rakesh stammered, his voice low and unsteady.
“What did you… you and Guddu bhai talk… talk about?”
Monica looked at him for a long moment. Then she playfully smiled, taking a slow glance at her own cleavage before leaning in and whispering directly into his ear. Her voice was soft, almost sweet, but what she said was anything but.
“I know what you’re thinking, Rakesh…”
She paused, letting the words sink in.
Rakesh froze. His face went pale.
Rakesh stammered, his voice barely a whisper. “Monica…?”
Monica’s expression didn’t change. Her eyes were sharp.“Rakesh, chill. Relax, baby… just relax.”
“Monica… he has underworld connects…”
“Rakesh, let it be. He was trying hard to ask me out for a date .. I told him clear and loud that I was not interested in him.”
Rakesh looked at her, still stunned. “Okay…”
Monica’s expression turned from playful to annoyed. She leaned in one last time, her voice low and firm.
“Now for you, Rakesh — don’t try and fucking lecture me. I don’t like these lame-ass moral sermons from you. Especially since you have been gambling here, while i was working my ass off at home for your mother. Now if we are done eating can we just go home?”
She stood up without another word, clearly irritated, and walked away.
One evening, while Rakesh was still at office, his phone buzzed.
Bheem: Hey mate… we’ve re-started the betting ring. New place, new people. Come join after work. It’ll be fun.
Rakesh stared at the message for a long time before replying.
Rakesh: No Bheem… parents are still here. What will I tell them?
Bheem: Dude, it’s a completely new ring. New crowd. Plus I’m sure you’re pretty fucked up with that new boss of yours.
Rakesh: How do you know about my boss?
Bheem: Come on… we keep track of things. Just come. Ustad’s new place.
Rakesh: What? You opened the ring in his house?
Bheem: It’s just a small dingy under-construction property, yaar. What’s your issue?
Rakesh hesitated for almost twenty minutes before finally typing.
Rakesh: Okay… will see. Where exactly?
Bheem: Ustad’s new house. Off the highway, next to the jungle. I’ll send the location.
That night, Rakesh came home much later than usual. His mother was waiting in the living room with dinner kept warm.
“Where were you?” she asked, trying to keep her voice normal. “We had dinner ready.”
Rakesh avoided her eyes as he removed his shoes.
“Work pressure, Ma. New boss is very strict. Had to stay back and finish some reports.”
The next morning, while Rakesh was getting ready for office, a message popped up in the old WhatsApp group.
Ustad: New ring is live from today. New place also. My new house (though it’s still under construction ?). Small housewarming this Friday. Food and drinks on me.
Rakesh showed the message to Monica while she was getting ready.
Monica raised her eyebrows slightly.
“Ustad Miya got a new house?”
Rakesh nodded while buttoning his shirt.
“It’s not really a proper house. Just some construction property he painted a portion of and restarted the ring there.”
Monica was quiet for a moment as she applied moisturiser on her face. Then she asked,
“Where is this place?”
“Quite far,” Rakesh replied. “Near the highway… overlooking the jungle area.”
Monica let out a small laugh while tying her hair.
“Oh come on… hope there are no leopards around.”
Rakesh smiled faintly.
“He invited us for the housewarming this Friday.”
Monica looked at him for a second, then spoke in a softer tone.
“I know… Come on Rak, you should be happy your friend has come out of this raid wala jhamela. No?”
Rakesh nodded, his voice low.
“Yea… he worked hard for this.”
Monica smiled and walked up to him, gently fixing his collar. “There you go, my boy.”
Friday evening came sooner rather than later. The car left the main highway and took a narrow, poorly lit exit. Within minutes, the world outside changed. Thick forest pressed in on both sides of the road, swallowing the last traces of city light. The further they drove, the darker and quieter it became. Only the low hum of the engine and the occasional rustle of leaves could be heard. The air felt cooler, heavier, carrying the damp, earthy scent of the jungle.
They finally reached a lonely stretch of half-constructed row houses at the end of a deserted street. Rakesh parked the car. A few stray dogs barked lazily in the distance. The lane ahead was uneven, covered in loose pebbles that crunched softly under their feet.
Monica stepped out and began walking carefully in her high heels. The short hem of her deep maroon designer sleeveless kurti shifted with every step, riding up just enough to reveal the full, round curve of her ass before settling back down. Her strappy pencil heels further accentuated the curve of her ass. Her tight white leggings clung to her thighs and hips like a second skin, accentuating every movement.
She had applied maroon lipstick to go with her outfit, also accentuating her facial features. She had also painted her nails black which contrasted with her fair skin. Her mangalsutra further rested on her breasts and further added to the allure of her cleavage showing through the V necked kurti. She wore red bangles along with sindoor which adorned her forehead. Her modern outfit along with traditional symbols of marriage added to the mystique around. She looked the perfect urban upper class married woman.
With each careful step over the uneven ground, her heavy ass jiggled visibly, the fabric stretching and releasing in a slow, rhythmic motion. The cool night air kissed her bare arms, raising faint goosebumps along her fair skin. She could feel the slight chill teasing her nipples, making them stiffen subtly against the thin fabric of her kurti.
In front of the last unit, freshly painted in bold white letters, was a rough signboard that read:
Ustad Miyan Enterprise
Loud music and voices spilled out from inside. The house looked newly built but completely bare — just unfinished walls and floors with the sharp smell of fresh paint still lingering in the air. The gate and railings were half-done, but someone had strung up a few stylish lights outside that cast a warm, almost deceptive glow on the entrance.
As they stepped inside, Ustad spotted them immediately. He was standing near the doorway in his usual tight shirt, half-unbuttoned, his thick black chest hair visible under the dim lights. A wide, hungry grin spread across his face the moment he saw Monica.
“Rakesh bhai! Monica! Finally… waahh!” he called out loudly and walked towards them. He pulled Rakesh into a tight hug before turning to her. His eyes moved over her body slowly, deliberately, taking in the short kurti, the way it hugged her waist and ended high on her hips, and the way her tight leggings shaped her ass.
“Woow Bhabhi…” he said, his voice low and appreciative. “You look so damn hot tonight. Especially with that new hairdo”
Monica laughed softly, tilting her head so her soft waves fell over one shoulder.
“You noticed already, Ustad Miyan, huh?”
Ustad grinned without shame.
“Hard not to”
Inside, one room had been turned into a small dance area with colourful lights and loud music vibrating through the floor. The rest of the house was completely unfurnished — just bare walls and the strong smell of paint. Around twelve to fifteen people were scattered around, mostly men, with only two or three women present. The air was thick with cigarette smoke and the sharp scent of cheap alcohol.
Ustad led them into a smaller room where four heavily built, muscular men were sitting around a table, drinking and playing cards. The atmosphere inside was heavy with smoke and loud laughter.
Ustad announced loudly, “Look who’s here!”
One of the men stood up. He was middle-aged, completely bald, with thick, muscular arms and a strong, intimidating presence. He walked straight to Rakesh and pulled him into a violent, back-slapping hug.
“Arre mera Rakesh bachcha!” he said loudly and laughed.
Monica watched quietly. This man does not look old enough to be his father… why the fuck is he calling him bachcha?
Ustad introduced him.
“This is Monica, Rakesh’s biwi. And Bhabhi, this is Guddu Bhai. He runs one of the biggest betting rings in Delhi.”
Monica smiled politely, folding her hands. “Namaste.”
Guddu Bhai’s eyes moved over her body without any attempt to hide it. They lingered on the way her kurti sat on her full breasts and the curve of her hips in the tight leggings before he finally spoke, his voice rough.
“Arre wah… Rakesh beta, you didn’t tell us you had such a beautiful wife.”
Monica kept her smile, but there was a hint of sass in her voice when she asked,
“How do you know my husband so well?”
Ustad quickly explained that Rakesh had already visited a couple of times. Rakesh looked away, clearly uncomfortable.
Monica felt a sharp flicker of irritation rise in her chest.
Saala… I was stuck at home cooking and serving his fat ass mother while this nawab was happily gambling away here. I have to teach him a lesson. Monica thought to herself.
The guys immediately made Rakesh drink two to three pegs. The alcohol hit him fast. After some time, Monica started feeling claustrophobic in the smoky, crowded room. The loud music, the heavy stares, the smell of sweat and liquor — it was all too much. She excused herself politely.
“I’ll just go around the corner for a bit.”
She walked out into the main area. The house was barren but had some elegant lights and minimal decor. She didn’t feel like drinking with the women present — she barely knew them — and the way most of the men were looking at her made her skin prickle. She could feel their eyes on her ass as she walked, on the way her kurti moved over her breasts.
The DJ played fast Bollywood tracks, and people danced in the other room.
Just then, she noticed Guddu Bhai watching her from across the room. He had been eyeing her for a while, his gaze heavy and unapologetic. After some time, he walked over and stopped in front of her. Because the music was loud, he leaned in close, his voice low and rough near her ear. She could smell the alcohol and cigarette on his breath, and feel the heat radiating from his big, muscular body.
“Nice designer kurti. ...Suits you well… very well.”
Monica turned her head slightly towards him, her voice low and teasing.
“I didn’t wear it for you.”
“ whoever you wore it for… you’re looking really hot in that"
“These compliments won’t get you anything, you know.”
Guddu chuckled, his voice dropping even lower.
“Who said I’m trying to get anything?"
“Is that so? Then maybe you should try harder to control yourself… fair?”
One man came and whispered to his ears "There is a call From sky deck!”
He looked annoyed but nodded.“I’ll be back,” he said to Monica before walking away.
A few minutes later, Rakesh came up to her, his face tense. “Monica?”
She turned to him. “Yeah?”
Rakesh looked uneasy, his voice low.
“That guy you were talking to… he’s Guddu Bhai. He’s pretty notorious in the underworld betting scene.”
“Why are you telling me this now?”
“I just thought… you were talking to him, so…”
Monica scoffed, her voice sharp.
“Really, Rakesh? You’re lecturing me? After you’ve already been coming here and betting with him? Right?”
Rakesh tried to calm her down, his voice low and pleading.
“No, I mean… just be careful, that’s all.”
Monica rolled her eyes, clearly annoyed. “Yeah, sure. I’ll manage.”
Just then, a group of younger guys walked up to her with whiskey bottles in their hands.
“Didi, we’re Ustad bhai’s cousins. These are our college friends. Wanna dance with us?”
Monica looked at them and replied with a playful, sassy smile.
“Accha? You guys are drinking straight from bottles already? At this age?”
Ustad appeared behind them and introduced the two boys properly. Monica looked at him with a teasing expression.
“Quite naughty cousins you got, Ustad Miyan.”
Ustad laughed.
Inside she felt bored, restless, and increasingly irritated. The last one month had been torture — in-laws staying over, no proper sex, no late-night parties, no ganja weekends, no freedom. And now Rakesh was trying to lecture her after everything. These men all fucking control freaks in their own way.
Monica’s mood had already turned dark. She was done playing the good bahu.
After some time, she saw Guddu Bhai standing near the wall again. She walked straight towards him, making sure Rakesh who was standing closeby could see & hear everything.
She stopped in front of Guddu and said casually,
“You did scare me off with those muscles of yours Guddu Bhai, though Thanks for the compliments…”
Guddu looked at her and grinned, his eyes dropping to her chest for a moment before returning to her face.
“..hahahha..Dont worry I wont eat you up.”
Guddu laughed proudly
Monica smiled and leaned in even closer this time, her breasts brushing lightly against his arm as she spoke near his ear. “So… how’s the new ring going?”
Guddu took a slow sip from his glass,
“I control quite a bit of betting in Noida. This one’s new, so there are risks… but we’ll see.”
“Risks from rivals or security officer?” Monica asked
“Mainly rivals,” Guddu replied, his voice rough. “You can’t trust anyone in this line. And what do you do? Corporate job?”
“Nothing as dangerous as you,” Monica smiled, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “I’m just a Sales Manager. Wohi monthly targets, client meetings… then next month the same cycle.”
Guddu smirked, his eyes moving over her body again.
“Ahh… you’re that hot corporate girl in every office. The ones who keep the men’s tools hard during meetings.”
Monica let out a soft laugh, leaning in even closer.
“Guddu Bhai… you’re being so direct.”
Guddu smirked.“So? What do you expect from us goondas?”
“Should I be intimidated Guddu bhai”
Guddu held her gaze for a long moment, “Only if you want to be.”
Rakesh stood a short distance away, hearing everything. He could see how close Monica was standing to Guddu, how she was leaning in, how she was deliberately engaging with him. He felt a sharp, twisting humiliation mixed with something darker — a sick, unwanted thrill at seeing his wife being so openly desired. He felt small. Powerless. Emasculated.
After a while, Monica leaned even closer.. her lips almost brushing his ear as she spoke.
“Hey… the music is really loud here. Will you mind if we go out for a smoke?”
“Yeah… I was thinking to ask you out anyway.… it’s peaceful outside. Let’s go.”
Monica kept her whiskey glass down and turned to Rakesh, her voice casual but loud enough for him to hear clearly. “Rak, I’ll be back…”
Guddu Bhai hit Rakesh lightly on the abdomen and said with a grin,
“Rakesh bachcha… don’t worry. I will take proper care of her.”
Rakesh felt the words like a slap. He stood there, frozen, as he watched Monica walk out with Guddu Bhai. The humiliation burned in his chest. He walked to the corner, picked up an entire bottle of cheap rum, and started drinking heavily. His head spun. He lost balance and stumbled, cutting his forehead slightly on something sharp in the dark.
Someone helped him sit down. “Bhaisaab, tabiyat theek nahi lag rahe. Baitho aap.”
When Monica came back some time later, she found him sitting in the corner, looking dazed. She walked up to him, her kurti slightly adjusted — the neckline pulled down just enough to show a generous amount of cleavage, her mangalsutra playing hide and seek between her full breasts.
“Did you have dinner, Rakesh? You didn’t eat anything since lunch… come, let’s grab something. I’m hungry.”
Rakesh nodded numbly, staring at her cleavage. “Yea… okay.”
While they were eating in a quieter corner, Rakesh stammered, his voice low and unsteady.
“What did you… you and Guddu bhai talk… talk about?”
Monica looked at him for a long moment. Then she playfully smiled, taking a slow glance at her own cleavage before leaning in and whispering directly into his ear. Her voice was soft, almost sweet, but what she said was anything but.
“I know what you’re thinking, Rakesh…”
She paused, letting the words sink in.
Rakesh froze. His face went pale.
Rakesh stammered, his voice barely a whisper. “Monica…?”
Monica’s expression didn’t change. Her eyes were sharp.“Rakesh, chill. Relax, baby… just relax.”
“Monica… he has underworld connects…”
“Rakesh, let it be. He was trying hard to ask me out for a date .. I told him clear and loud that I was not interested in him.”
Rakesh looked at her, still stunned. “Okay…”
Monica’s expression turned from playful to annoyed. She leaned in one last time, her voice low and firm.
“Now for you, Rakesh — don’t try and fucking lecture me. I don’t like these lame-ass moral sermons from you. Especially since you have been gambling here, while i was working my ass off at home for your mother. Now if we are done eating can we just go home?”
She stood up without another word, clearly irritated, and walked away.
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