29-08-2026, 07:41 PM
The astrologer’s call came first.
My wife’s phone rang in the afternoon, and when she saw the number her whole face changed. For a second she did not even want to touch it. Then she put the call on speaker, and the old man’s voice filled the room, calm and certain, as if he already knew what we were about to see.
“The reevaluation results have been announced. Do not sit there wasting time. Check your son’s result now and call me after you have seen it.”
He cut the call before she could answer.
The three of us sat together in front of the laptop. My son’s hands were shaking so much that he could barely open the page. My wife sat on one side of him, holding the edge of the table. I sat on the other side, watching the screen as if the next few seconds would decide the entire mood of our house. Nobody spoke. The only sound in the room was the slow opening of that result page.
Then the marks came up.
He had passed in all the subjects.
My son did not believe it. He kept staring at the screen as if the letters would change the moment he blinked. I pulled the laptop toward me and checked again, slowly, because I also needed to be sure. Name: Rajesh Kumar. M. Register number: 41023111036. Every paper he had failed was now showing pass. I went through it line by line, once more, and only then I sat back.
My son had passed in all the subjects.
The house that had been silent for weeks suddenly broke open.
My son let out a sound that was half laugh and half cry, the kind of sound a boy makes when he has been carrying shame for too many days and it finally falls off his back. My wife started crying at once, but this time the crying was different. It was not the helpless crying of the past one month. It was relief. She covered her mouth, then her face, then looked at the screen again and cried harder, as if her body had been holding its breath from the day the first result had come.
I felt a pressure leave my chest after so many days. The ten crores, the court praise, even the ugly fear of that astrologer’s room — all of it became smaller beside this one thing. It had been a long time since our family had been this happy.
“He has passed,” I said, my voice thicker than I expected. “All subjects. I checked the name and the register number myself. It is confirmed.”
I took out money and put it in my son’s hand.
“Go and buy sweets for the entire street. Give them to everyone you see. Today this house is celebrating, and I want the whole street to know it.”
He looked at the money, looked at both of us, and then ran out of the house with a happiness I had not seen on his face since the first result had broken him.
The door closed behind him.
My wife turned to me and hugged me tightly. She was still crying, her face pressed against my chest, her body shaking with the kind of relief that comes only after too many sleepless nights.
“He passed, Shiva. He really passed. I was so scared that I would never see this house happy again. After all these days of crying and waiting, our son has come back to us.”
I held her and let her cry against me.
For that one moment, the month of instructions, the hunger we had swallowed every night, and the ugly room of the astrologer all sat far away.
Our son had passed.
And our house, after a long time, was full of joy.
After our son ran out with the money, the house became quiet again.
My wife and I looked at each other.
For the first time in a month, the instructions were no longer sitting on her body. She had passed through all those days of pressing her thighs together, taking extra baths, stopping my hand at night, and holding herself back only for our son. Now he had passed. I could see it in her eyes even before she came closer — she was preparing herself to make love.
She hugged me and rested her face against my chest.
“Shiva, you don’t know how much I was controlling myself. Every day I felt it. Every night I felt it. I would lie beside you and my body would ask for you, and I still had to stop. The worst part was not even that. The more I tried to control, the more other men’s eyes started doing something to me.”
I took her into my complete embrace.
My arms went around her back and I pulled her whole body against mine. Her full breasts pressed into my chest through the nighty. There was no bra under the nighty, so I could feel her nipples tightening as she spoke. I lifted the nighty from behind, put both hands on her naked ass cheeks, and grabbed them. Then I gently placed one finger on her asshole and began playing with it, slow circles around the tight ring, while she talked.
She paused, ashamed, then she told me.
“That day near the vegetable shop, the man weighing the tomatoes kept looking at my breasts under the blouse. There was no bra, so he could see the shape clearly. He asked me the same thing twice just to keep me standing there. While he was looking, my nipples became tight and I felt wet between my thighs. I came back to the car and sat with my thighs pressed together because I did not want you to know.”
My cock began hardening against her stomach.
It was slow at first, just a heat in my lower belly, then it thickened as I pictured that man staring at her breasts. I squeezed her ass cheeks and kept playing with her asshole. A small breath left her mouth. Her nipples became even tighter against my chest. I felt a little wetness start on her inner thighs.
I asked her against her ear, “So that man was looking at your breasts and your nipples became tight just from his eyes? Tell me properly. Did he keep looking at them the whole time you were standing there?”
She laughed softly, a little shy, thinking I was only opening up so she could feel safe. Her ass cheeks clenched in my hands when my finger pressed her asshole a little more.
“Yes,” she said. “He was looking only at my breasts. I felt so ashamed, Shiva.”
“And you still stood there,” I said. “Your pussy got wet in the market because a stranger was staring at your breasts. Say that again.”
She hid her face in my chest and laughed softly once more. Her body reacted even as she laughed. Her hips pushed back a little into my hands. Her asshole tightened under my finger.
“Why are you talking like this?” she asked. “I thought you would get angry. You are making it easy for me to tell you.”
She did not know I was getting turned on slowly, shamelessly, with every sentence.
“And that evening near the flower stall,” she continued, “two young men were standing behind me. I could feel them looking at my ass. The saree was sitting on my body with no panties, so they could see the shape of my ass cheeks and the line of my pussy. One of them even came a little closer, as if he wanted to smell me. I should have felt angry. Instead I felt horny. I walked faster, but the wetness had already come.”
My cock was fully hard now, pressed between us. I grabbed both her ass cheeks harder and rubbed my finger over her asshole again. She let out a small sound and her thighs pressed together, then opened a little.
“They were looking at your ass and the line of your pussy, and you got wet,” I said. “Did you like that they could see everything under the saree?”
She hit my chest lightly and laughed, still thinking this was comfort, while her asshole twitched under my finger.
“Shiva, don’t ask like that. I am telling you because you are not shouting at me.”
Then her voice became even smaller.
“There was one more thing. In the market, while we were walking through that crowded lane, a man came behind me and put his hand on my ass over the saree. He squeezed my ass cheeks and kept walking with me, as if it was an accident. There were no panties under the saree, so he could feel the full shape of my ass. I should have pushed his hand away. I should have called you. Instead I let him. I kept walking, and he kept his hand on my ass cheeks, squeezing them through the saree, and I felt my pussy get wet while he did it. Only when the crowd opened a little I moved away. I did not tell you because I was ashamed.”
I hugged her so tightly that her full breasts flattened against my chest. I kept her nighty lifted from behind and grabbed her naked ass cheeks the same way that man had, then gently played with her asshole again. My cock jerked against her. A thin line of wetness from her pussy touched my thigh.
“You let a stranger squeeze your ass cheeks in the market and your pussy got wet,” I said. “Tell me how long he kept his hand there.”
She laughed softly again, covering her face, but her body did not laugh. Her ass cheeks opened a little in my hands. Her asshole clenched and then softened under my finger. Her breathing had become heavier.
“Not very long. Maybe ten steps. I can’t believe I am telling you this and you are still holding me like this.”
That was when the change settled fully inside me.
I was no longer only jealous. I wanted to see it. I wanted other men to feel up my wife. I wanted to watch a man put his hands on her ass cheeks, on her breasts, and even enjoy fucking her while I stood there and took it. The thought made me shamelessly hard. She thought I was giving her comfort. I was getting completely turned on by every word, and her body was reacting with me — nipples tight, pussy wet, asshole twitching under my finger.
“I understand,” I said against her neck. “I saw them looking. I just did not know you were letting it happen, and that it was making you wet.”
She stayed in that complete embrace, breathing against my chest, still smiling a little from the way I had spoken to her, her naked ass cheeks in my hands.
That was when her phone rang.
It was the astrologer.
My wife became scared at once. I became shamelessly horny.
The thought went through me immediately — he was calling because the result had come, and now I might get to watch him fuck my wife. I did not say that. I kept my face calm, as if I was only on her side. Inside, my cock gave another jerk against her stomach.
She looked at the phone, then at me, nervous and frightened. I still had her nighty lifted from behind, my hands still on her ass cheeks.
“Shiva… shall I block his number?” she asked. “He will want me to sleep with him now. I don’t want that old man to fuck me. I am scared. But if I refuse, he will do puja against our son. I don’t know what to do.”
She trusted me. She thought I would save her from it.
I spoke as if I was only protecting her.
“Don’t block it. Keep it on speaker. Ask him if there is another way. I am here with you.”
She nodded, scared, and put the call on speaker.
“Yes, Swami,” she said.
The astrologer’s voice came into our house.
“Did you check the result?”
“Yes, Swami,” my wife said. “Our son Rajesh Kumar. M, register number 41023111036, has passed in all the subjects. Every paper he failed has now come as pass. We checked his name and register number ourselves. We are very happy, Swami.”
“Good,” the astrologer said. “The puja worked. Now remember your promise.”
My wife’s fingers tightened on the phone. Her whole body went stiff in my hands. She so badly wanted to avoid getting fucked by him. I could feel the fear in her ass cheeks, in her breathing, in the way she pressed closer to me for protection.
“Swami, please,” she said. “Our son has passed and I am grateful. Is there anything else I can do instead of this? I will do puja, I will come to the temple, I will give whatever offering you ask. Please don’t ask me to sleep with you. I am frightened.”
I held her and spoke only a little, as if I was supporting her.
“She is very scared, Swami. That is why she is asking.”
It sounded like I was on her side.
I was not stopping him.
“The promise is the promise,” the astrologer said. “I will come to your house. Let her wear a yellow saree, a yellow blouse, and a yellow petticoat. She should wear her bra and panties also, any colour she wants. I will come there in one hour and decide.”
My wife’s eyes filled. She looked at me, waiting for me to refuse for her.
I only pressed her ass cheeks gently and told her, “He is coming. Wear what he said. We should not make him angry because of our son.”
She thought I was choosing our son’s safety.
She did not suspect that I was excited to watch him fuck her.
“Yes, Swami,” she said at last, her voice small. “I will wear them. I will wait.”
Then she hung up.
The phone went silent. She stood in my complete embrace, nighty still lifted from behind, my hands still on her naked ass cheeks, frightened of the next one hour. I held her as if I was only comforting her.
Inside, I was already waiting for the astrologer to walk into our house.
My wife’s phone rang in the afternoon, and when she saw the number her whole face changed. For a second she did not even want to touch it. Then she put the call on speaker, and the old man’s voice filled the room, calm and certain, as if he already knew what we were about to see.
“The reevaluation results have been announced. Do not sit there wasting time. Check your son’s result now and call me after you have seen it.”
He cut the call before she could answer.
The three of us sat together in front of the laptop. My son’s hands were shaking so much that he could barely open the page. My wife sat on one side of him, holding the edge of the table. I sat on the other side, watching the screen as if the next few seconds would decide the entire mood of our house. Nobody spoke. The only sound in the room was the slow opening of that result page.
Then the marks came up.
He had passed in all the subjects.
My son did not believe it. He kept staring at the screen as if the letters would change the moment he blinked. I pulled the laptop toward me and checked again, slowly, because I also needed to be sure. Name: Rajesh Kumar. M. Register number: 41023111036. Every paper he had failed was now showing pass. I went through it line by line, once more, and only then I sat back.
My son had passed in all the subjects.
The house that had been silent for weeks suddenly broke open.
My son let out a sound that was half laugh and half cry, the kind of sound a boy makes when he has been carrying shame for too many days and it finally falls off his back. My wife started crying at once, but this time the crying was different. It was not the helpless crying of the past one month. It was relief. She covered her mouth, then her face, then looked at the screen again and cried harder, as if her body had been holding its breath from the day the first result had come.
I felt a pressure leave my chest after so many days. The ten crores, the court praise, even the ugly fear of that astrologer’s room — all of it became smaller beside this one thing. It had been a long time since our family had been this happy.
“He has passed,” I said, my voice thicker than I expected. “All subjects. I checked the name and the register number myself. It is confirmed.”
I took out money and put it in my son’s hand.
“Go and buy sweets for the entire street. Give them to everyone you see. Today this house is celebrating, and I want the whole street to know it.”
He looked at the money, looked at both of us, and then ran out of the house with a happiness I had not seen on his face since the first result had broken him.
The door closed behind him.
My wife turned to me and hugged me tightly. She was still crying, her face pressed against my chest, her body shaking with the kind of relief that comes only after too many sleepless nights.
“He passed, Shiva. He really passed. I was so scared that I would never see this house happy again. After all these days of crying and waiting, our son has come back to us.”
I held her and let her cry against me.
For that one moment, the month of instructions, the hunger we had swallowed every night, and the ugly room of the astrologer all sat far away.
Our son had passed.
And our house, after a long time, was full of joy.
After our son ran out with the money, the house became quiet again.
My wife and I looked at each other.
For the first time in a month, the instructions were no longer sitting on her body. She had passed through all those days of pressing her thighs together, taking extra baths, stopping my hand at night, and holding herself back only for our son. Now he had passed. I could see it in her eyes even before she came closer — she was preparing herself to make love.
She hugged me and rested her face against my chest.
“Shiva, you don’t know how much I was controlling myself. Every day I felt it. Every night I felt it. I would lie beside you and my body would ask for you, and I still had to stop. The worst part was not even that. The more I tried to control, the more other men’s eyes started doing something to me.”
I took her into my complete embrace.
My arms went around her back and I pulled her whole body against mine. Her full breasts pressed into my chest through the nighty. There was no bra under the nighty, so I could feel her nipples tightening as she spoke. I lifted the nighty from behind, put both hands on her naked ass cheeks, and grabbed them. Then I gently placed one finger on her asshole and began playing with it, slow circles around the tight ring, while she talked.
She paused, ashamed, then she told me.
“That day near the vegetable shop, the man weighing the tomatoes kept looking at my breasts under the blouse. There was no bra, so he could see the shape clearly. He asked me the same thing twice just to keep me standing there. While he was looking, my nipples became tight and I felt wet between my thighs. I came back to the car and sat with my thighs pressed together because I did not want you to know.”
My cock began hardening against her stomach.
It was slow at first, just a heat in my lower belly, then it thickened as I pictured that man staring at her breasts. I squeezed her ass cheeks and kept playing with her asshole. A small breath left her mouth. Her nipples became even tighter against my chest. I felt a little wetness start on her inner thighs.
I asked her against her ear, “So that man was looking at your breasts and your nipples became tight just from his eyes? Tell me properly. Did he keep looking at them the whole time you were standing there?”
She laughed softly, a little shy, thinking I was only opening up so she could feel safe. Her ass cheeks clenched in my hands when my finger pressed her asshole a little more.
“Yes,” she said. “He was looking only at my breasts. I felt so ashamed, Shiva.”
“And you still stood there,” I said. “Your pussy got wet in the market because a stranger was staring at your breasts. Say that again.”
She hid her face in my chest and laughed softly once more. Her body reacted even as she laughed. Her hips pushed back a little into my hands. Her asshole tightened under my finger.
“Why are you talking like this?” she asked. “I thought you would get angry. You are making it easy for me to tell you.”
She did not know I was getting turned on slowly, shamelessly, with every sentence.
“And that evening near the flower stall,” she continued, “two young men were standing behind me. I could feel them looking at my ass. The saree was sitting on my body with no panties, so they could see the shape of my ass cheeks and the line of my pussy. One of them even came a little closer, as if he wanted to smell me. I should have felt angry. Instead I felt horny. I walked faster, but the wetness had already come.”
My cock was fully hard now, pressed between us. I grabbed both her ass cheeks harder and rubbed my finger over her asshole again. She let out a small sound and her thighs pressed together, then opened a little.
“They were looking at your ass and the line of your pussy, and you got wet,” I said. “Did you like that they could see everything under the saree?”
She hit my chest lightly and laughed, still thinking this was comfort, while her asshole twitched under my finger.
“Shiva, don’t ask like that. I am telling you because you are not shouting at me.”
Then her voice became even smaller.
“There was one more thing. In the market, while we were walking through that crowded lane, a man came behind me and put his hand on my ass over the saree. He squeezed my ass cheeks and kept walking with me, as if it was an accident. There were no panties under the saree, so he could feel the full shape of my ass. I should have pushed his hand away. I should have called you. Instead I let him. I kept walking, and he kept his hand on my ass cheeks, squeezing them through the saree, and I felt my pussy get wet while he did it. Only when the crowd opened a little I moved away. I did not tell you because I was ashamed.”
I hugged her so tightly that her full breasts flattened against my chest. I kept her nighty lifted from behind and grabbed her naked ass cheeks the same way that man had, then gently played with her asshole again. My cock jerked against her. A thin line of wetness from her pussy touched my thigh.
“You let a stranger squeeze your ass cheeks in the market and your pussy got wet,” I said. “Tell me how long he kept his hand there.”
She laughed softly again, covering her face, but her body did not laugh. Her ass cheeks opened a little in my hands. Her asshole clenched and then softened under my finger. Her breathing had become heavier.
“Not very long. Maybe ten steps. I can’t believe I am telling you this and you are still holding me like this.”
That was when the change settled fully inside me.
I was no longer only jealous. I wanted to see it. I wanted other men to feel up my wife. I wanted to watch a man put his hands on her ass cheeks, on her breasts, and even enjoy fucking her while I stood there and took it. The thought made me shamelessly hard. She thought I was giving her comfort. I was getting completely turned on by every word, and her body was reacting with me — nipples tight, pussy wet, asshole twitching under my finger.
“I understand,” I said against her neck. “I saw them looking. I just did not know you were letting it happen, and that it was making you wet.”
She stayed in that complete embrace, breathing against my chest, still smiling a little from the way I had spoken to her, her naked ass cheeks in my hands.
That was when her phone rang.
It was the astrologer.
My wife became scared at once. I became shamelessly horny.
The thought went through me immediately — he was calling because the result had come, and now I might get to watch him fuck my wife. I did not say that. I kept my face calm, as if I was only on her side. Inside, my cock gave another jerk against her stomach.
She looked at the phone, then at me, nervous and frightened. I still had her nighty lifted from behind, my hands still on her ass cheeks.
“Shiva… shall I block his number?” she asked. “He will want me to sleep with him now. I don’t want that old man to fuck me. I am scared. But if I refuse, he will do puja against our son. I don’t know what to do.”
She trusted me. She thought I would save her from it.
I spoke as if I was only protecting her.
“Don’t block it. Keep it on speaker. Ask him if there is another way. I am here with you.”
She nodded, scared, and put the call on speaker.
“Yes, Swami,” she said.
The astrologer’s voice came into our house.
“Did you check the result?”
“Yes, Swami,” my wife said. “Our son Rajesh Kumar. M, register number 41023111036, has passed in all the subjects. Every paper he failed has now come as pass. We checked his name and register number ourselves. We are very happy, Swami.”
“Good,” the astrologer said. “The puja worked. Now remember your promise.”
My wife’s fingers tightened on the phone. Her whole body went stiff in my hands. She so badly wanted to avoid getting fucked by him. I could feel the fear in her ass cheeks, in her breathing, in the way she pressed closer to me for protection.
“Swami, please,” she said. “Our son has passed and I am grateful. Is there anything else I can do instead of this? I will do puja, I will come to the temple, I will give whatever offering you ask. Please don’t ask me to sleep with you. I am frightened.”
I held her and spoke only a little, as if I was supporting her.
“She is very scared, Swami. That is why she is asking.”
It sounded like I was on her side.
I was not stopping him.
“The promise is the promise,” the astrologer said. “I will come to your house. Let her wear a yellow saree, a yellow blouse, and a yellow petticoat. She should wear her bra and panties also, any colour she wants. I will come there in one hour and decide.”
My wife’s eyes filled. She looked at me, waiting for me to refuse for her.
I only pressed her ass cheeks gently and told her, “He is coming. Wear what he said. We should not make him angry because of our son.”
She thought I was choosing our son’s safety.
She did not suspect that I was excited to watch him fuck her.
“Yes, Swami,” she said at last, her voice small. “I will wear them. I will wait.”
Then she hung up.
The phone went silent. She stood in my complete embrace, nighty still lifted from behind, my hands still on her naked ass cheeks, frightened of the next one hour. I held her as if I was only comforting her.
Inside, I was already waiting for the astrologer to walk into our house.
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