29-08-2026, 10:24 PM
The doorbell rang.
My wife looked at me once, nervous, and I went with her to open the door. The astrologer was standing there in his saffron dhoti and white shirt, ugly face, small sharp eyes, and the moment the door opened those eyes went straight to my wife. He looked at her yellow chiffon saree, her yellow blouse, her full breasts, her waist, her ass, from her face down to her feet, without any shame.
“Come in, Swami,” I said.
My wife folded her hands and welcomed him in a small voice.
“Please come inside.”
She turned and walked into the house first.
We followed her.
I walked a little behind him, and I could see everything. His eyes were all over my wife as she walked. The yellow chiffon saree moved over her ass. The yellow blouse held her breasts from behind. He looked at her ass cheeks, then at the curve of her waist, then again at her breasts when she turned her face a little. He was ogling her openly, as if she already belonged to him.
That look made me horny.
My cock began hardening in my pants while I kept my face polite.
After she took him into the living room, I asked him, as if I was only being friendly.
“How is she, Swami? My wife got ready as you said.”
The astrologer did not take his eyes off her.
“I can’t control myself,” he said. “Looking at her like this, I can’t control myself.”
Those words went straight into me.
My wife stood there embarrassed, holding the pallu of her yellow chiffon saree. I stood beside her as if I was only the host. Inside, I was shamelessly hard, because the way he was ogling her and the way he said he could not control himself was exactly what I had been waiting for.
We took him into the living room.
My wife sat on the sofa first, nervous, holding the pallu of her yellow chiffon saree. I sat beside her, close enough that she would feel I was on her side. The astrologer sat opposite us, his small eyes moving over her yellow blouse, her full breasts, her waist, and then lower, over her lap, as if he was already undressing her in his mind. I saw that look and my cock hardened, but I kept my face calm.
My wife tried to start the way I had told her.
“Swami, our son Rajesh Kumar. M has passed. Register number 41023111036, all subjects. We are grateful. I got ready as you said. Please, if a hug and a blessing are enough, take that. I am a married woman. I cannot give more than that.”
I placed my hand on her shoulder, pretending I was supporting her.
“She is nervous, Swami. That is why she is speaking like this. Please understand her.”
The astrologer did not look at me. He looked only at her.
“Understanding will not keep the puja standing,” he said. “I made your son pass. The reward was decided. If I walk out of this house without taking what was promised, I will turn the puja the other way. The boy will not remain passed. His life will close again.”
My wife’s body stiffened beside me.
“Please don’t say that, Swami. He has just passed. Don’t put that on my son.”
I held her hand as if I was protecting her.
“Swami, she is frightened. Don’t scare her like that. We called you inside with respect.”
My words sounded like I was on her side.
I was not stopping him.
He stood up, came around the table, and stood in front of her. His eyes went over her yellow blouse and then to her lips.
“Then get up,” he said. “A hug first. If you refuse even that, I will take the puja back tonight.”
My wife looked at me, waiting for me to refuse for her.
I squeezed her hand and said softly, “Get up. Only a hug. We should not make him angry because of our son.”
She stood up slowly, shaking.
The astrologer took her into his complete embrace.
His ugly arms went around her waist over the yellow chiffon saree. Her full breasts pressed into his chest through the yellow blouse and the white bra. He pulled her tighter, and I saw his hands slide down and rest on her ass over the saree. My wife’s face turned toward me, helpless, her eyes wet.
“Shiva…”
“It’s only a hug,” I said, still pretending. “Let him. Think of Rajesh.”
Inside, I was watching his hands on her ass and getting shamelessly hard.
The astrologer did not leave the hug.
He kept my wife in his complete embrace and began moving his hands over her ass cheeks through the yellow chiffon saree, squeezing them slowly, feeling the maroon panties underneath. Her body went stiff. She tried to pull her chest back, but he held her waist and brought her full breasts against him again.
“Swami, enough,” she said, her voice shaking. “You hugged me. Please leave me now.”
He looked at her lips.
“The promise was not a hug,” he said. “You agreed that if your son passed, you would sleep with me. He has passed. A hug is only the start.”
She turned toward me at once.
“Shiva, I can’t. We only spoke about a hug and a kiss. I can’t sleep with him.”
That line had been only between me and her in the bedroom. The astrologer had never agreed to it. I knew that, and still I spoke as if I was on her side.
“Swami, she is nervous. Let it stay at a hug and a kiss for now. Don’t take everything in one minute.”
He held her jaw with one hand, kept the other hand on her ass, and put his mouth on her lips.
He enjoyed it at once.
He kissed her slowly first, then deeper, pressing his ugly mouth on her mouth as if he had been waiting for those lips since the day she gave him her bra and panties. He sucked her lower lip, then covered her whole mouth, making a wet sound. My wife made a small frightened noise. For a second she kept her lips closed. He kissed her harder, and I saw her fingers clutch the pallu of the yellow chiffon saree.
Watching him enjoy her lips made me shamelessly horny. My cock hardened in my pants. I could not take my eyes off his mouth on her mouth.
“Open your mouth,” he said against her lips. “If you stay stiff, I will take it that the promise is broken and turn the puja against the boy.”
“Please, Swami, don’t,” she whispered.
I rubbed her back gently, pretending I was comforting her.
“Let him kiss you. We will talk after that.”
She gave in a little.
Her lips opened. He pushed his tongue into her mouth and began tasting her properly, moving his tongue over her tongue, sucking her lips again and again, not leaving her mouth. He was enjoying her kiss like a hungry man. Saliva shone on her lips when he pulled back for a second and then he kissed her again, deeper.
Her body started reacting even while she tried to control it.
Her nipples tightened under the yellow blouse and the white bra. I saw it. A small shiver went down her waist. Her ass cheeks clenched in his hand and then loosened. Her breathing became heavier against his mouth. She tried to turn her face away, then her lips moved with his for a moment before she caught herself and stiffened again.
“No… Swami… I don’t want this,” she said into the kiss, but her mouth was already wet from him.
He kept kissing her and squeezed her ass harder. His other hand came up over the yellow blouse and felt her breast over the white bra. Her nipple was already tight under his palm. She broke the kiss and turned her face into my shoulder, breathing fast, ashamed that her body had answered him.
“Shiva, he is touching my breast. This is more than a kiss. He wants to sleep with me. My body is reacting and I don’t want it to.”
The astrologer did not take his hand away. His mouth was still wet from her lips.
“Yes,” he said. “That is what you agreed when the boy’s result was still locked. Now the result has come. Her lips are sweet. If she gives me only a closed mouth and a stiff body, I will do the puja against him tonight.”
My wife started crying against me, her nipples still tight, her lips still shining from his kiss.
“Don’t say that. I hugged you. I kissed you. Don’t bring my son into this again.”
I held her and looked at him as if I was warning him, but my cock was hard from watching him enjoy her lips and from seeing her body react while she tried to protest.
“Swami, she is crying. Don’t scare her more.”
He smiled at me over her shoulder, understanding I was with him.
“Then let her stay in my hands a little more,” he said. “A crying wife is still a wife who promised to sleep with me after the boy passed.”
My wife remained between us, kissed, felt up, frightened, her body warm and betraying her, still trying to hold the private line she had drawn with me.
My wife looked at me once, nervous, and I went with her to open the door. The astrologer was standing there in his saffron dhoti and white shirt, ugly face, small sharp eyes, and the moment the door opened those eyes went straight to my wife. He looked at her yellow chiffon saree, her yellow blouse, her full breasts, her waist, her ass, from her face down to her feet, without any shame.
“Come in, Swami,” I said.
My wife folded her hands and welcomed him in a small voice.
“Please come inside.”
She turned and walked into the house first.
We followed her.
I walked a little behind him, and I could see everything. His eyes were all over my wife as she walked. The yellow chiffon saree moved over her ass. The yellow blouse held her breasts from behind. He looked at her ass cheeks, then at the curve of her waist, then again at her breasts when she turned her face a little. He was ogling her openly, as if she already belonged to him.
That look made me horny.
My cock began hardening in my pants while I kept my face polite.
After she took him into the living room, I asked him, as if I was only being friendly.
“How is she, Swami? My wife got ready as you said.”
The astrologer did not take his eyes off her.
“I can’t control myself,” he said. “Looking at her like this, I can’t control myself.”
Those words went straight into me.
My wife stood there embarrassed, holding the pallu of her yellow chiffon saree. I stood beside her as if I was only the host. Inside, I was shamelessly hard, because the way he was ogling her and the way he said he could not control himself was exactly what I had been waiting for.
We took him into the living room.
My wife sat on the sofa first, nervous, holding the pallu of her yellow chiffon saree. I sat beside her, close enough that she would feel I was on her side. The astrologer sat opposite us, his small eyes moving over her yellow blouse, her full breasts, her waist, and then lower, over her lap, as if he was already undressing her in his mind. I saw that look and my cock hardened, but I kept my face calm.
My wife tried to start the way I had told her.
“Swami, our son Rajesh Kumar. M has passed. Register number 41023111036, all subjects. We are grateful. I got ready as you said. Please, if a hug and a blessing are enough, take that. I am a married woman. I cannot give more than that.”
I placed my hand on her shoulder, pretending I was supporting her.
“She is nervous, Swami. That is why she is speaking like this. Please understand her.”
The astrologer did not look at me. He looked only at her.
“Understanding will not keep the puja standing,” he said. “I made your son pass. The reward was decided. If I walk out of this house without taking what was promised, I will turn the puja the other way. The boy will not remain passed. His life will close again.”
My wife’s body stiffened beside me.
“Please don’t say that, Swami. He has just passed. Don’t put that on my son.”
I held her hand as if I was protecting her.
“Swami, she is frightened. Don’t scare her like that. We called you inside with respect.”
My words sounded like I was on her side.
I was not stopping him.
He stood up, came around the table, and stood in front of her. His eyes went over her yellow blouse and then to her lips.
“Then get up,” he said. “A hug first. If you refuse even that, I will take the puja back tonight.”
My wife looked at me, waiting for me to refuse for her.
I squeezed her hand and said softly, “Get up. Only a hug. We should not make him angry because of our son.”
She stood up slowly, shaking.
The astrologer took her into his complete embrace.
His ugly arms went around her waist over the yellow chiffon saree. Her full breasts pressed into his chest through the yellow blouse and the white bra. He pulled her tighter, and I saw his hands slide down and rest on her ass over the saree. My wife’s face turned toward me, helpless, her eyes wet.
“Shiva…”
“It’s only a hug,” I said, still pretending. “Let him. Think of Rajesh.”
Inside, I was watching his hands on her ass and getting shamelessly hard.
The astrologer did not leave the hug.
He kept my wife in his complete embrace and began moving his hands over her ass cheeks through the yellow chiffon saree, squeezing them slowly, feeling the maroon panties underneath. Her body went stiff. She tried to pull her chest back, but he held her waist and brought her full breasts against him again.
“Swami, enough,” she said, her voice shaking. “You hugged me. Please leave me now.”
He looked at her lips.
“The promise was not a hug,” he said. “You agreed that if your son passed, you would sleep with me. He has passed. A hug is only the start.”
She turned toward me at once.
“Shiva, I can’t. We only spoke about a hug and a kiss. I can’t sleep with him.”
That line had been only between me and her in the bedroom. The astrologer had never agreed to it. I knew that, and still I spoke as if I was on her side.
“Swami, she is nervous. Let it stay at a hug and a kiss for now. Don’t take everything in one minute.”
He held her jaw with one hand, kept the other hand on her ass, and put his mouth on her lips.
He enjoyed it at once.
He kissed her slowly first, then deeper, pressing his ugly mouth on her mouth as if he had been waiting for those lips since the day she gave him her bra and panties. He sucked her lower lip, then covered her whole mouth, making a wet sound. My wife made a small frightened noise. For a second she kept her lips closed. He kissed her harder, and I saw her fingers clutch the pallu of the yellow chiffon saree.
Watching him enjoy her lips made me shamelessly horny. My cock hardened in my pants. I could not take my eyes off his mouth on her mouth.
“Open your mouth,” he said against her lips. “If you stay stiff, I will take it that the promise is broken and turn the puja against the boy.”
“Please, Swami, don’t,” she whispered.
I rubbed her back gently, pretending I was comforting her.
“Let him kiss you. We will talk after that.”
She gave in a little.
Her lips opened. He pushed his tongue into her mouth and began tasting her properly, moving his tongue over her tongue, sucking her lips again and again, not leaving her mouth. He was enjoying her kiss like a hungry man. Saliva shone on her lips when he pulled back for a second and then he kissed her again, deeper.
Her body started reacting even while she tried to control it.
Her nipples tightened under the yellow blouse and the white bra. I saw it. A small shiver went down her waist. Her ass cheeks clenched in his hand and then loosened. Her breathing became heavier against his mouth. She tried to turn her face away, then her lips moved with his for a moment before she caught herself and stiffened again.
“No… Swami… I don’t want this,” she said into the kiss, but her mouth was already wet from him.
He kept kissing her and squeezed her ass harder. His other hand came up over the yellow blouse and felt her breast over the white bra. Her nipple was already tight under his palm. She broke the kiss and turned her face into my shoulder, breathing fast, ashamed that her body had answered him.
“Shiva, he is touching my breast. This is more than a kiss. He wants to sleep with me. My body is reacting and I don’t want it to.”
The astrologer did not take his hand away. His mouth was still wet from her lips.
“Yes,” he said. “That is what you agreed when the boy’s result was still locked. Now the result has come. Her lips are sweet. If she gives me only a closed mouth and a stiff body, I will do the puja against him tonight.”
My wife started crying against me, her nipples still tight, her lips still shining from his kiss.
“Don’t say that. I hugged you. I kissed you. Don’t bring my son into this again.”
I held her and looked at him as if I was warning him, but my cock was hard from watching him enjoy her lips and from seeing her body react while she tried to protest.
“Swami, she is crying. Don’t scare her more.”
He smiled at me over her shoulder, understanding I was with him.
“Then let her stay in my hands a little more,” he said. “A crying wife is still a wife who promised to sleep with me after the boy passed.”
My wife remained between us, kissed, felt up, frightened, her body warm and betraying her, still trying to hold the private line she had drawn with me.
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