Adultery Maa Bani Classmate: Part II — Shadows of Desire

[Joker44]

Barish abhi-abhi thami thi, aur campus ka open ground, wet soil aur bheegi hui grass ki ek earthy, heavy khushboo se bhara hua tha. Shaam ke 5:40 baj rahe the. Most of the students aur faculty already lectures wind up karke campus se nikal chuke the.
Trupti upcoming college fest committee ke leftover banners aur decorative charts library ke side wale purane wooden store room se bahar nikal rahi thi. Aaj Abhay late-evening corporate finance class mein stuck tha. Sheetal apne friends circle ke saath canteen mein thi. Main academic block ka long corridor completely khali aur quiet tha — sirf ceiling lights ki halki yellow hum aur bahar pedon se tapakti hui paani ki boondom ki aawaaz thin.
Trupti ne aaj ek light cyan-blue color ki chiffon kurti pehni hui thi, jiska deep U-neckline uske porcelain collarbones aur upper chest curve ko delicate tareeqe se reveal kar raha tha. Niche crisp white ankle-length trousers the. Uske wet, natural wave baal shaam ki thandi hawa mein shoulders par bikhre hue the. Uske pure physical presence mein ek serene, mature aur undeniably sensual aura tha.
Woh jaise hi heavy banners ka bundle utha kar side store ke door se bahar nikli, Aryan samne wooden frame ke paas khada mila.
Pehle toh Trupti ko laga ki yeh bilkul accidental encounter hai — jaise pichle kai dino se campus ke alag-alag corners mein hota aa raha tha. Phir usne dhyan se dekha. Uske haath mein koi notebook ya class file nahi thi. Sirf ek tight-folded paper strip thi. Uska 19-saal ka boyish face aaj pehle se kahin zyada pale, flushed aur visibly nervous dikh raha tha. Uski dark eyes Trupti ke face se slide hokar ek second ke liye uske deep cleavage gap par tikin, aur phir turant nervous hokar neeche floor par chali gayin.
“Aap… free ho thodi der ke liye?” usne thoda hichkichate hue poocha. Uski low voice mein ek clear tremble tha. “Zyada time nahi loonga, Trupti. Bas… ek baat kehni thi. Yahan open corridor mein ya class ke samne nahi bol sakta.”
Trupti ne plastic banner roll ko apne side mein press kiya. Uske stomach ke andar ek choti si, familiar caution ki wave uthi. Usne pehle se hi boundaries maintain kar rakhi thin. Junior crush ki baat Sheetal ne already tease karke confirm kar di thi. Usse iss 19-saal ke innocent-looking ladke ko koi extra space ya encouragement nahi dena tha.
“Kya baat hai, Aryan?” usne ekdam straight, mature tone mein poocha.
Aryan ne corridor ke dono taraf dekha. “Yahan nahi. Wahan… library ke piche wale stone benches par. Sirf do minute.”
Library ke piche garden area mein purani stone benches thin, jahan dense banyan trees ki shadow rehti thi. Exam season ke alawa wahan shaam ko koi nahi baithta tha. Trupti ne pehle thought banaya ki ekdam refusals de de. Phir socha — ek basic junior hai, public campus zone hai, sirf do minute ki toh baat hai. Usne single nod kiya.
Woh dono stone bench par jaakar baith gaye. Center mein kam se kam ek haath jitna clean space tha. Aryan ne us folded paper ko apne fingers ke beech continuous twist kiya, lekin khola nahi. Shaam ke andhere mein uski breath short aur heavy ho rahi thi.
“Main aapko pareshan ya uncomfortable nahi karna chahta,” usne shuru kiya, eyes bench ke wet wooden base par fixed rakhte hue. “Aap engaged ho. Main jaanta hoon. Abhay bhaiya… poora campus unka respect karta hai, main bhi karta hoon.”
Trupti ne side profile se uske nervous face aur tight jawline ko dekha. “Toh phir yeh alag se baat kyun ho rahi hai?”
Aryan ne ek lambi, shaky saans li. “Kyunki main aapko dekh ke jo feel karta hoon… woh koi normal campus crush jaisa nahi hai. Aur yeh baat mujhe apne andar se nikaalni thi, warna main roz aapke piche ek stupid first-year ki tarah ghumta rahunga… aur khud se nafrat karta rahunga.”
Trupti ki body thodi stiff hui. “Aryan. Main tumse pehle hi keh chuki hoon—”
“Meri ek didi thi,” usne beech mein hi interrupt kar diya.
Trupti ke lips lock ho gaye. Uski words ruk gayi.
Aryan ki nazar benches ke neeche ki geeli mitti par jam gayi thi. “Teen saal pehle. Ek severe road accident mein… she passed away. Woh meri se paanch saal badi thi. College final year mein thi us time. Bahut strict… lekin mere liye bahut soft. Ghar mein sab kuch usi se pooch kar hota tha. Main poore din uske piche-piche rehta tha jaise… jaise ab campus mein aapke piche-piche ghumta hoon. Mujhe yeh soch ke pehle bahut sharm aati thi. Lekin sach yahi hai.”
Usne shaky fingers se paper ko unfold kiya. Usme ek purani photo thi — continuous folding marks ke saath. Ek ladki. 22–23 saal ki. Long dark hair. Soft, dignified facial structure. Simple cotton kurti. Photo ek black-and-white printout thi, thodi grainy aur blurred.
Trupti ne photo par apni nazar tikaayi.
Uska dil ek sudden, strange jagah par jaakar freeze ho gaya.
Woh ladki Trupti se exact face-to-face match nahi karti thi. Lekin features ki geometry identical thi — eyes ka almond shape, lips ki full, natural softness, aur woh overall serious-yet-approachable aura. Itna same nahi ki koi unhe twins bol de, lekin itna zaroor ki dekhne wale ko pehli glance mein yaad dila de.
“Log kehte hain ki time ke saath deceased logon ka face dimaag se fade hone lagta hai,” Aryan ne lower voice mein kaha, uski breath thodi raspy ho gayi thi. “Mera nahi hua. Aap jab orientation day par stage par khadi thin… main do second ke liye poori tarah freeze ho gaya tha. Mujhe laga jaise lightning strike hui ho… jaise kisi ne galti se meri didi ko stage par bula liya ho. Phir aapne baat karna shuru kiya. Voice alag thi. Lekin face… aapke features ne mujhe aisa hit kiya ki mera dimaag hil gaya.”
Trupti ne photo quiet motion mein uske haath mein wapas pakda di. Uske apne haath subtle cold hot feel kar rahe the.
“Isliye tu mujhe roz aise ghoorta rehta hai,” Trupti ne ekdam dheeme, husky tone mein kaha.
Aryan ne rapid nod kiya. “Haan. Aur isliye main roz raat ko khud par gussa karta hoon. Kyunki didi… didi ke liye meri feeling sirf ek innocent bhai wali nahi thi. Main 16 saal ka tha. Woh meri real elder sister thi. Phir bhi main usse… ek alag, forbidden tarike se dekhta tha. Main uske bath ke baad uske baalon ki khushboo notice karta tha. Uske clothes, uski body... Yeh dirty baat maine aaj tak duniya mein kisi ko nahi bataayi. Ghar mein toh socha bhi nahi ja sakta. Accident ke baad yeh guilt mere andar completely bury ho gaya tha. Lekin ab aapko dekh ke… woh poora andhera, woh poori hunger wapas nikal aayi hai.”
Trupti ki breathing achanak heavy aur tight ho gayi.
Yeh shocking confession uske liye koi simple 19-saal ke junior ka stupid teenage declaration nahi tha. Yeh conversation uske apne dark, dirty, secret world ke ekdam parallel chal rahi thi.
Beta. Maa.
Woh biological, sacred relation ki line jo lust aur dominant ownership ke paar chali jaati hai. Rahul ka woh cold, terrifying incestuous text message... uski command... aur Trupti ka khud Rahul ke khayal se raat mein apni pussy ko wet karke fingering karna.
Aryan ko ek drop bhi idea nahi tha ki uske samne kaun baithi hai. Woh toh bas ek sexually confused, guilt-ridden 19-saal ka ladka tha jo apni deceased elder sister ke liye apni suppressed, incestuous physical desires ko iss 20-saal ki senior VP ke chehre par project kar raha tha.
Aryan jab bol raha tha, tab uske body mein physical changes ekdam clear the. Uska respiration fast tha, aur Trupti ki eyes accidental movement mein niche gayi. Aryan ki dark jeans ke front panel par ek sharp, prominent bulge ubhar aaya tha. Uska shaft hard ho chuka tha. Aryan ne extreme embarrassment aur awkwardness mein apni right palm se us hard bulge ke press karne ki koshish ki, lekin 19 saal ke jism ka woh raw erection chhup nahi raha tha. Uske chest ka fabric, Trupti ke U-neckline se jhankte hue rounded cleavage par fixed tha.
Trupti ke core mein — uski wet, warm pussy ke andar — ek sudden, heavy surge of heat travel kar gayi.
Usne clearly feel kiya ki uski lace panty mein ek thick liquid drop leak ho gaya. Uski choot mein ek sharp, throbbing twitch utha. Iss innocent-looking boy ke mouth se elder sister ke liye violent, forbidden sexual attraction ki baat sunna... iss taboo thrill ne Trupti ke hidden erotic mind ko ek dark climax touch de diya tha. Rahul ke saath uska incestuous relation tha, aur yahan ek aur bhai apni badi behen ke jism ke liye tadap raha tha.
Trupti ne smooth voice mein ask kiya, “Toh tu ek ladki ko isliye dirty tarike se desire kar raha hai... kyunki woh teri biological didi jaisi dikhti hai?”
Aryan ne hairan hokar eyes uthayin. Uske chehre par extreme shame aur raw, uninhibited male hunger ek saath paint thin. “Haan. Aur jab aapne abhi iss line ko directly bol diya… toh mera guilt aur mera erection dono control se bahar hone lage hain.”
Trupti ke full hothon par ek thandi, bitter, sensual si light smile aayi. Koi anger nahi, koi disgusted shock nahi — balki ek supreme, dark amusement.
“Toh tu indirectly propose kar raha hai us ladki ko... jo teri real sister jaisi lagti hai?”
Aryan ne niche floor par dekha, uske hands abhi bhi trouser ke front par tightness maintain kiye the. Phir, unexpectedly, usne ek weak, nervous laugh di. “Behad ajeeb aur disgusting lag raha hai na? Main bhi jaanta hoon. Lekin haan... main usse… meri didi ko… sexual tarike se bhi like karta tha. Main uske rumal, uske innerwear ko secretly feel karta tha. Yeh paap hai, main jaanta hoon. Isliye main aapse door rehne ki violent koshish karta hoon... par aapka chehra dekhte hi mera control tut jaata hai.”
Trupti ki sensual smile gradually fade ho gayi.
Uske inner core mein tectonic shift hua tha. Rahul. Uska apna beta. Woh terrifying dominance. Woh sacred blood relation jo incestuous pleasure mein turn ho chuka tha.
Aryan ke munh se nikla hua yeh raw, twisted, taboo truth uske apne deepest secret guilt ke itna kareeb tha ki uski breath rukne lagi. Uski panty ab completely wet thi. Iss junior ki erotic confession ne Trupti ke jism ko Abhay ke shaam wale sex ke baad bhi wapas ek hidden, dark heat se bhar diya tha.
Trupti ne bench se apna leather bag uthaya. Uska tone mature, authoritative, lekin subtle warmth ke sath nikla.
“Aryan. Main teri didi nahi hoon. Main kisi deceased ladki ki replacement ya fantasy item nahi hoon. Aur main Abhay ke saath engaged hoon. Yeh jo tu mere chehre aur body ko dekh kar internal heat aur incestuous guilt feel kar raha hai… isse yahin drop kar. Kal se mere around itna physical distance lose mat kar. Notes ya study material chahiye ho toh official student group mein maang. Mujhe isolated corners mein akela mat catch kar.”
Aryan ne continuous head shake kiya, uski eyes closed ho gayin. “Theek hai, Trupti. I am extremely sorry. Main… bas apna yeh dark burden share karke clear hona chahta tha. Ab kabhi nahi bolunga.”
Trupti uth kar khadi hui. Usne do-teen steps aage badhaye. Phir ruki. Piche mud kar dekha.
Aryan ab bhi usi wet stone bench par baitha tha. White paper printout uske trembling haath mein tha. 19 saal ka young, horny, confused ladka — guilt se bhara hua, aur apni sisterly fantasy ki desire mein tight erection ke saath akela baitha hua.
Trupti ne usse dekha, aur uski voice ek strange, dark velvet texture mein turn ho gayi:



Aur Aryan,” usne thoda jhuk kar quiet voice mein add kiya, “jo tu apni real didi ke liye feel karta tha… woh attraction, woh hidden physical fantasy… usse duniya mein kisi teesre ke samne mat rakhna. Yeh society, yeh college ke log samjhenge nahi. Isse tera tamasha bana denge. Tu khud bhi isse publically handle nahi kar payega. Isse apne andar hi deep bury karke rakh… baseline secrecy mein. Wahi tere aur tere mind ke liye better hai.”
Yeh advice usne Aryan ke liye kahi thi... aur wahi exact line usne apne khud ke dark soul aur Rahul ke saath bane incestuous truth ke liye bhi repeat ki thi.
Woh turn lekar tez steps ke saath wet pathway par aage nikal gayi.
Hostel ke raste par Trupti ke steps behad fast the. Uski heartbeats rhythmic aur heavy thin. Aryan ke haath mein pakdi hui black-and-white photo, aur uski raspy voice ka woh phrase — “main usse sexual tarike se bhi desire karta tha” — uske dimag ke walls par echoing rhythm mein repeat ho raha tha. Uski pussy fabric par geelapan abhi bhi clear feel ho raha tha.
Room 304 mein aakar usne door ko andar se lock kiya. Sheetal room mein nahi thi. Trupti ne bag desk par phenka aur seedha washbasin ke mirror ke samne khadi ho gayi.
Mirror mein look same tha: College की Top VP. Abhay ki devoted Fiancée. Sanskaari, cultured elder student.
Lekin un dark eyes ke piche woh aurat thi jo deeply jaanti thi ki blood relation mein lust kitna violent aur intoxicating ho sakta hai. Uska apna biological beta Rahul San Francisco se uski soul aur body ko text messages se command karta tha. Aur aaj, ek 19-saal ka junior uske glowing face aur body mein apni dead sister ka physical reflection dhoondh kar uske samne tight erection ke saath guilt confess kar raha tha.
Taboo ki depth aur situation alag thi... Lekin sexual thrill aur incestuous guilt ki exact hit ek hi jagah par hui thi.
Trupti ne basin ka cold water tap turn on kiya. Cold water se apna face aur neck thoroughly wash kiye. Desk se phone uthaya.
Abhay ka new message aachuka tha:
Abhay: Class abhi finish hui hai jaan. Main completely drain ho chuka hoon, seedha room ja raha hoon. Kal morning mein milte hain. Love you.
Trupti ne short reply type kiya:
Trupti: It's okay Abhay. Take rest. Good night.
Usne text bhej kar screen lock ki, lekin Rahul ke encrypted private chat window ko request attempt nahi kiya.
Aaj nahi.
Aaj uske andar jo taboos ki violent shockwave chal rahi thi, usse filhaal kisi ko handed-over nahi karna tha. Na apne fiancé Abhay ko, na apne us beta ko jo ocean ke us paar se us par ownership rakhta tha, aur na hi us 19-saal ke junior ko jo usse behen bana kar uski body ko desire kar raha tha.
Usne room ki lights complete off kiin aur bed par let gayi.
Neend aane ka koi sign nahi tha.
Dimag mein sirf ek blurred photo, ek young boy ka hard bulge, ek dark incestuous confession, aur uski khud ki life ka woh tabooless truth tha... jo aaj kisi teesre ke lips se sun kar aur bhi zyada sharp, wet aur real ho gaya tha.


CHAPTER 28: RESCUE
Shaam ke 7:35 baj rahe the.
Fest committee ka last leftover box Trupti ne library ke back-gate wale purane side-store mein shift kar diya tha. Main academic block ke is secluded hisse par campus lights kam thin — bas ek-do dull yellow sodium lamps jo hawa ke saath thode flicker kar rahe the. Ground ke piche wala kacha rasta girls' hostel ki taraf jaane ka sabse short route tha — mushkil se 4 minute ki walk. Trupti ne roz yeh rasta use kiya tha. Aaj bhi usne socha ki shortcut se hostel chali jaaye; Abhay ki corporate finance class 8:15 tak continue honi thi, Aryan shaam ke confession ke baad se campus mein dikha nahi tha, aur Sheetal abhi bhi canteen ke friends group mein busy thi.
Trupti ne chiffon kurti ke loose dupatta ko apne shoulder par set kiya aur kache raste par kadam badha diye. Ground ki wet soil se ab bhi shaam ki thandi hawa ke saath ek earthy, heavy khushboo uth rahi thi.
Teen-chaar kadam aage badhte hi, Trupti ki spine ke base par ek familiar, icy chill travel kar gayi.
Wahi feeling. Pichle pure hafte se jo creeping sensation uske piche lagi hui thi. Koi usse dark shadows se continuously observe kar raha hai.
Usne apni walking speed badha di. Leather purse ko side arm ke niche tight kiya aur phone ko right hand mein grip kar liya. Usne ek instant mein piche mudkar dekha — rasta lagbhag khali tha. Sirf ek flickering streetlight ki light mein bheege hue pedon ki shadow hil rahi thi aur door ek stray dog quiet khada tha. Phir usne left side, purane neem ke tree ke thick trunk ke piche, ek dark, hunched figure dekha.
Pehle glimpse mein Trupti ko laga ki koi local homeless man ya bhikari hoga.
Kapde jagah-jagah se faate hue the. Dark formal shirt jo kabhi clean waali rahi hogi, ab mud aur grease se completely maili aur torn thi. Loose pajama ke niche right foot mein ek broken rubber slipper thi, left foot nanga tha. Baal completely bikhre hue, greasy, thode grey aur thode black. Face par haptom ki unshaven, rough beard thi. Body ekdam sukhi hui, shoulders niche ki taraf jhuke hue. Ek haath mein plastic ka ek purana, broken transparent cover tha — jaise koi discarded official ID badge cover ho. Face half-shadow aur half-streetlamp ki dim light mein tha.
Trupti ke pair wahi zameen par freeze ho gaye. Uski saans ek second ke liye chest mein hi atak gayi.
Yeh aadmi... yeh wahi nazar waala aadmi tha jo pichle kuch dino se usse target kar raha tha. Wahi jo campus ke samne wale medical store ke bahar khada tha, wahi jo library ke outer steps ke shadow mein tha. Aaj uske head par cap nahi thi. Aur uske exposed, ruined face ne Trupti ke dimaag ko ek violent dhakka maara.
Woh koi normal vagrant ya roadside bhikari nahi lag raha tha. Woh insaan ek former security officer Inspector lag raha tha.
Aath-nau mahine pehle. Vikki murder case ki security officer investigation. College life se pehle, uske apne hometown mein. Woh officer jo ironed khaki uniform mein unke ghar aata tha, jo Trupti se strict, uncomfortable sawal poochta tha, jo baad mein ek severe late-night highway "accident" mein mar gaya tha — news channels par, local newspapers mein, aur official security officer department ke records mein. Declared dead on arrival. Case closed forever.
Rahul ne us din phone par Trupti se kuch clear details share nahi ki thin. Sirf itna bold, cold statement diya tha: "Mamma, ab koi tension nahi hai. Wahan ka maamla hamesha ke liye close ho chuka hai." Trupti ne us time subtle guess kar liya tha. Woh poori details nahi jaanti thi, aur sharafat ke darr se jaanna bhi nahi chahti thi. Lekin internal instinct tha — security officer officer ka woh highway accident itna clean, itna convenient, aur itna completely silent nahi ho sakta tha.
Aur ab... woh "dead" security officer Inspector Vikram uske thik samne khada tha. Ek bhikari ke faate hue kapdon mein. Adha dimaag se pagal. Adha yaadein preserve rakhte hue.
“T-Trupti…” uske sookhe, phate hue hothon se aawaaz ek violent raspy cough ke saath bahar aayi. Aawaaz jaise kisi rusted metal pipe se nikal rahi ho. “Khanna… badi bahu… student… dono… ek hi aurat…”
Trupti ne ek sudden step piche liya. Uski breath trembling ho gayi. “Aap… aap toh mar gaye the. Highway accident mein...”
Vikram ne apni gardan thodi jhuka kar ek strange, broken laugh di. Hasna normal nahi lag raha tha. Laugh beech mein tut jati, phir ek harsh coughing fit aata, aur phir wapas ek quiet, dry smile. “Mar gaya... Haan. Paper mein mara. Hospital ke cold room mein. Jala diya mera record. Lekin main… main abhi bhi yahan hoon. Sarak. Kooda. Raat. Din. Ye chehra yaad rehta hai… ye chehra kabhi chala jaata hai. Dimaag mein lights aati hain, phir darkness aa jati hai.”
Usne do staggering steps Trupti ki taraf badhaye. Trupti ke hand mein pakde hue phone ki screen-light achanak uske face par seedhi padi. Vikram ki eyes completely bloodshot thin. Maathe se lekar right ear tak ek thick, purple-red accident scar tha — jawline thodi twisted thi. Inspector Vikram ka woh former sharp, commanding, handsome masculine face ab poori tarah ruin aur break ho chuka tha. Lekin bone structure wahi tha. Unhi eyes ki dark, dirty hunger wahi thi.
“Case…” usne violent hand gesture se hawa mein finger ghumate hue kaha. “Woh ladka… Vikki… uski bus ke piche ki body… video… aur tum. Tumhari… tumhara muh. Haan. Raw, soft muh. Main daily sochta tha ki file main kya likhoon. Office ke piche wale dark room mein... Tumne… apni knees par baith kar. Shaadi ki ring finger par shine kar rahi thi. Shaadi-shuda badi bahu. Phir bhi muh khol kar... Mera lund. Garam. Pehle soft, phir hard. Tumne pure ras ke saath nigala bhi tha. Phir roti hui boli thin — saheb, mat likhna report mein, jo chahiye le lo...”
Trupti ka pet andar se ekdam gir gaya. Uski choot ke deep core mein ek sudden, dirty, sickening wave leak hui.
Woh dark, terrifying raat. Woh uski life ka sabse desperate, wrong decision. Rahul ko bachane ka darr. Case ko suppress karwane ke liye inspector ki demand. Ek filthy, desperate oral sex (BJ) jo usne pure fear aur compromise mein settle hone ke liye diya tha. Ek aisa dirty secret jo usne aaj tak kisi ke samne share nahi kiya tha — na apne fiancé Abhay ko pata chalne diya, na hi Rahul ko clear words mein bataya. Rahul ko bas andaza tha ki inspector ne uski mamma ki helpless condition ka fayda uthaya tha... aur isliye shayad woh accident itna permanent aur violent plan hua tha.
Vikram ne apni bloodshot eyes band kiin, phir shake karke dobara kholi. Uska damaged dimaag beech-beech mein completely slip ho raha tha.
“Chai… meri chai kahan hai? Station… daroga saab… meri khaki uniform kahan gayi? Mere leather jootey… mere jootey hospital ke morgue mein reh gaye. Main soya. Utha. Koi badge nahi. Koi rank nahi. Sirf ek aurat... Uska warm, soft muh. Vikki ka case. Trupti Khanna. Badi bahu. Naam likha tha meri personal pocket diary mein. Diary jali... dimaag nahi jala.”
Usne achanak high-pitched voice mein chilla kar bola, phir turant shhh... karke aawaaz low kar li. “Shhh. Main pagal nahi hoon. Main Inspector Vikram hoon. Main ruling inspector tha. Ab kooda hoon. Tumne nigala tha mera lund. Main yaad rakhta hoon. Jab-jab dimaag mein light aati hai.”
Trupti ne piche do fast steps liye. Uski aawaaz mein darr aur shame dono mix the. “Mat aao mere paas! Mat aao, main chillane lagungi!”
Vikram ne apna maila, rough hand aage badhaya — ek bhikari ki tarah maangne ke posture mein, aur ek predator ki tarah pakadne ke posture mein. “Ek baar... Sirf ek baar woh yaad wapas chahiye. Wahi muh. Phir main hamesha ke liye chala jaunga. Koi file nahi bachi. Koi court nahi bacha. Sirf body ki yaad. Mera dimaag roz toot-ta rehta hai, Trupti Khanna. Tumhari jeebh… meri life ki last saaf aur soft cheez thi.”
Uske words behad dirty, broken aur uske scarred body ki violent sexual memory ke saath chipke hue the. Trupti ke andar extreme terror tha. Lekin terror ke saath-saath... ek dark, filthy physical memory bhi uske lower abdomen mein flash kar gayi — uniform ki rough smell, us copper-flavored taste, us thick lund ka uske mouth mein penetration, aur uska khud ka helpless, corrupt bargain. Uska apna body iss traumatic memory par betray karke wetness release kar raha tha, aur usse iss instant reaction se khud se extreme ghin aayi.
“Rahul ne…” Trupti ke phate hue lips se almost ek silent whisper nikla, “tumhe… maar diya tha…”
Vikram ki bloodshot eyes achanak chamki. “Ladka. Tumhara beta. Cold, dead eyes. Usne hospital ke bahar… nahi. Main kabhi sochta hoon usne gadi se hit karwaya. Phir main bhool jaata hoon. Phir sudden yaad aata hai. Severe accident. Brake failure. Bright headlight. Main udd gaya hawa mein. Phir kooda. Phir tumhara yeh college campus. Main dhoondhta hoon tumhare chehre ko. Roz. Kabhi dikhti ho... kabhi nahi dikhti.”
Woh ek sudden, aggressive jhatke se aage badha. Uska maila hand Trupti ki right wrist tak pahunch gaya. Grip physically weak thi kyunki body malnutritioned thi, lekin mental madness ki wajah se desperate aur tight thi. Usne Trupti ko neem ke tree ki dark shadows ki taraf drag karne ki koshish ki. “Muh kholo... Ek minute. Bhikari ko bhi apni last feeling yaad chahiye. Inspector ko bhi.”


Trupti ne poori strength se chillaaya: “Chhodo mujhe! Help!”
“Hey— chhod usse!”
Ek sudden, sharp male voice dark pathway par echo hui. Aryan piche se tez sprint karta hua aaya. Usne apna heavy college backpack ground par phenka. Usne poori force ke saath Vikram ke unshaven shoulder par double-handed dhakka diya.
Vikram larra kar do step piche gaya, lekin Trupti ki wrist ko chhodne ko ready nahi tha. Aryan ne iss baar ek violent kick aur shoulder blow maara. Vikram balance lose karke wet ground par niche mitti mein gir gaya — faate hue kapde aur kooda ek saath wet soil mein san gaye. Niche gir kar woh achanak pehle zor-zor se hasne laga, phir uski laughter emotional crying mein badal gayi.
“Uniform… jootey… soft muh… sab chhin gaya…”
Aryan ne turant Trupti ko apne piche shield kiya, uska body Trupti aur us broken inspector ke beech mein iron wall ki tarah khada ho gaya. Aryan ki heavy respiration chal rahi thi. “Trupti, bhago! Back gate ki taraf! Abhi!”
Vikram uth kar unke piche nahi aaya. Woh geeli mitti par ghutno ke bal baith gaya, apna maatha dono haathon se pakad kar rhythmically hilane laga. “Case closed. Aurat nigal gayi sab kuch. Ladka jeet gaya. Main mar gaya... main nahi mara. Main yahan kooda hoon.”
Trupti ne ek second ka delay nahi kiya. Woh aur Aryan dono fast sprint karte hue back gate ki taraf bhage. Streetlight ki bright yellow range. Piche do hostel students cross kar rahe the. Front gate par security guard ki cabin thi.
Jab unhone gate par pahunch kar ek baar piche mudkar dekha, toh kache raste par Vikram nahi tha. Purane neem ke ped ke piche bhi koi shadow nahi thi. Jaise woh koi broken, living ghost ho jo dhang se shaam ke fog aur darkness mein vanish ho gaya ho.
Hostel ke main boundary gate ke just bahar Trupti ruki. Uski breathing poori tarah phool chuki thi, chest violent speed se upar-niche move kar raha tha. Aryan ne Trupti ka girta hua leather purse apne haath mein hold kar rakha tha. Aryan ke 19-saal ke haath visible tremor ke saath kaamp rahe the.
“Woh... woh kaun tha?” Aryan ne phooli hui saans ke beech poochha. Uska face darr aur intense protectiveness se filled tha. “Woh aadmi aapko personally jaanta tha, Trupti. Aapka full name le raha tha...”
Trupti ne apna mouth khola... phir turant closed kar liya. Uski aawaaz shaky aur broken thi. “Purana… ek criminal case tha humare hometown mein. Woh wahan ka security officer inspector tha. Sab log... newspaper aur media kehte hain ki woh aath-nau mahine pehle ek severe accident mein mar chuka hai.”
Aryan ki dark eyes shock se badi ho gayin. “Mar chuka hai? Phir yeh aadmi… yahan is haalat mein?”
“Main nahi jaanti, Aryan...” Usne half-truth aur half-lie ko blend karke heavy voice mein kaha. “Shayd us accident mein brain damage hua ho... shayd mental asylum se bhaaga ho... shayd koi aur ho...”
Rahul. Yeh single word Trupti ke gale mein ek sharp stone ki tarah atak gaya.
Aryan ne Trupti ka hand turant nahi chhoda. Usne Trupti ki trembling wrist ko soft, comforting grip mein hold kiye rakha. “Main aapko hostel ke main door tak drop karta hoon. Aaj ke baad aap akeli is secluded kache raste se late shaam ko kabhi mat aana. Main… main daily shaam ke iss exact time par yahan aap ke saath walking escort ke liye rahunga, agar aap allow karein toh.”
Trupti ne Aryan ke face ko dekha. 19 saal ka innocent boy. Uski white formal shirt dhakkey-mukki mein shoulders se maili ho gayi thi. Respiratory rate fast tha. Danger aur violence ke baad bhi, uski eyes mein Trupti ke liye wahi same intense focus tha — sisterly reflection, deep unspoken crush, aur ab ek proud rescuer ka instinct.
“Thank you,” Trupti ne kaha. Uski voice emotion se breakdown ho rahi thi. “Aryan... really, thank you so much. Agar aaj tum yahan timing par na hote…”
“Main hamesha hounga,” usne bina pause kiye fast voice mein bola. “Ab se main hamesha around hounga.”
Aryan usse girls' hostel ke security gate tak le gaya. Usne gate guard ko short, sharp voice mein brief kiya — ek mentally unstable, violent bhikari outer wall ke paas ghum raha hai aur female students ko target kar raha hai. Guard ne notepad register mein entry note ki, lekin routine manner mein handling ki. “Madam, campus ke piche railway line aur slums hain, aise stray vagrants kabhi-kabhi aate rehte hain, hum dekhte hain.”
Room 304 ke andar enter hote hi Trupti ne wooden door ko double lock kiya, aur safety latch bhi laga diya. Sheetal abhi bhi room mein nahi aayi thi. Trupti seedha small bathroom ke inside gayi. Basin ke samne wall mirror.
Mirror mein dekha: Uski chiffon kurti ka U-neckline thoda disordered tha. Neck par light dust-mark tha. Right wrist par Vikram ki dirty, tight grip ka red circular mark clear chhap chuka tha.
Usne tap full running mode mein set kiya. Liquid soap le kar apni wrist aur hands ko repeatedly rub karke dhoya. Ek baar, do baar, teen baar. Leather skin red ho gayi, lekin Vikram ki un-washed touch, uski filthy words — "soft muh... tumne nigala... mera lund" — ka lingering feel jism se nikal nahi raha tha.
Trupti ke mind mein do extreme thoughts ek saath parallel direction mein race kar rahe the:
FIRST — Inspector Vikram ka ruined, scarred face, uski disgusting memories, uski heavy sexual demands, aur Trupti ka khud us memory par internal biological wetness feel karna. SECOND — Aryan ka timely hero entry, uska violent push, uska physical shield banna, aur uska trembling hand Trupti ke hand mein hona.
Pehli cheez usse extreme disgust, shame aur ek corrupt, dirty physical flash de rahi thi. Doosri cheez usse ek electric, warm surge ke saath real aur protected feel kara rahi thi.
Usne desk se apna phone uthaya. Uski fingers abhi bhi kaamp rahi thin.
Usne pehle Abhay ko message type kiya:
Trupti: Aaj library ke piche wale shortcut par ek mentally unstable stranger disturb kar raha tha. Ek junior student ne timely intervene karke help ki. Main safe hoon hostel room mein. Raat mein baat karte hain.
Phir usne Rahul ke encrypted chat panel ko open kiya. Trembling fingers se fast type kiya:
Trupti: Inspector Vikram zinda hai. Woh campus mein mere piche laga hua hai.
Usne send button par thumb rakha... Lekin send nahi kiya.
Usne pure text ko single backspace press karke completely DELETE kar diya.
Kyunki agar Inspector Vikram waqai paper records mein dead hone ke baad bhi zinda tha, aur Rahul ne aath mahine pehle uska highway accident plan karke execute kiya tha... toh yeh single message ek catastrophic nuclear bomb ki tarah Rahul ko aggressive mode mein activate kar deta. Aur Trupti abhi Nashik campus mein Rahul ka naya murder ya violent retaliation nahi chahti thi. Usse pehle thanda ho kar sochna tha. Pehle warm shower lena tha. Pehle yeh fixed decision lena tha ki Aryan ko kitna sach dena hai aur kitna chhupana hai.
Usne bathroom ka hot shower turn on kiya. Chiffon kurti aur trousers floor par drop kiye. Warm water shower head se nikal kar uske bare shoulders, rounded breasts aur full hips par fall hone laga. Usne apne mouth ko haath aur soap se continuously scrubbing ke saath dhoya — jaise oral sex ki woh 8-month-old dark memory skin se wash away ho sakti ho.
Memory wash away nahi ho rahi thi.
Us raat Trupti Khanna ko ek second ke liye bhi neend nahi aayi.

Subah ke 9:10 baj rahe the.
Abhay  girls' hostel ke main gate ke bahar khada tha. Uska face visibly pale aur exhausted lag raha tha — neend bilkul poori nahi hui thi. Trupti ke pichli raat 2:00 AM par aaye short text message ne uski neend uda di thi: “Aaj raste mein koi pareshan kar raha tha. Ek junior ne help ki. Main safe hoon.” Abhay ne turant subah first thing milne ko bola tha. Aur ab Trupti uske samne khadi thi. Chiffon kurti mein simple look, eyelids ke niche halki dark circles ki thakan, aur right wrist par halka red mark jisse usne dupatta ke edge se chhupane ki failure koshish ki thi.
“Poora detail bata, Trupti,” Abhay ne low lekin sharp, tight voice mein kaha. Uski eyes Trupti ke face se lekar uski wrist ke mark par fixed thin.
Trupti ne story ka carefully trimmed, filtered version diya. Late library store work. Kacha shortcut path. Ek unknown, filthy aadmi. Bhikari jaisa look. Mentally unstable. Uska full name call out karna. Physical wrist grip ki violent try. First-year junior Aryan ka spot par aana. Physical push. Vikram ka ground par girna. Unka security gate ki taraf bhagna. Guard ka log entry karna. Aur aadmi ka vanish hona.
Abhay ne middle mein hi usse rokaa. Uski breath heavy ho gayi. “Naam. Us unstable aadmi ne tera kya naam liya, aur apna kya bola?”
Trupti ek second ke liye quiet rahi. Uske lips shivering feel kar rahe the. “Usne mujhe... Trupti Khanna kaha. Aur… usne khud ko security officer inspector bola. Inspector Vikram.”
Abhay ka face ek millisecond ke liye completely freeze ho gaya. Jaise room ka temperature zero degree down ho gaya ho.
Inspector Vikram.
Naam sunte hi Abhay ke dimaag mein ek purani, rusted iron file ka lock ek jhatke se khul gaya.
Aath-nau mahine pehle. Hometown security officer Station. Uske fingerprints ke ink marks. Cold interrogation room mein uske formal statements. Ek itni terrifying raat jab Abhay ko lagta tha ki uska carrier, uski reputation aur Trupti ki shaadi sab khatam hone wala hai. Woh senior inspector jo interrogation mein unhe dekh kar smile nahi karta tha. Jo case ko asani se drop nahi kar raha tha. Jo Trupti ke around bhi mysterious, predatory interest ke saath ghumta rehta tha. Phir sudden news — highway road accident. Declared dead on the spot. Case files closed forever. Department record deleted.
Abhay ki spine ke bottom par icy chill run kar gayi.
Usne socha tha ki uski life ka sabse dirty, traumatic chapter hamesha ke liye bury ho chuka hai. Usne socha tha jo legal fear tha, jo hometown security officer station ki dirty smell thi — sab dafan ho gaya hai. Aur ab wahi exact name, wahi dead officer, ek ruined bhikari ban kar uski fiancée ke daily walking shortcut path par khada tha.
“Vikram...” Abhay ne word repeat kiya. Voice completely dry thin. “Woh… woh Inspector Vikram. Mere… mere old hometown case waala officer. Usne mujhe—” Usne rest of the sentence mute kar diya. “Uske accident aur death ke baare mein newspapers mein official print hua tha. Closed file.”
Trupti ne aage badh kar uska cold right hand tight grip mein pakda. “Abhay. Calm down.”
“Main complete campus search karta hoon,” Abhay ne turant rapid voice mein kaha. “Aaj. Abhi se. Main hostel gatekeeper se, CCTV angles se, back-gate perimeter se cross-check karunga. Koi official officer sudden itna conveniently mental bhikari nahi ban sakta. Agar woh waqai zinda hai aur Nashik mein hai… toh—”
Usne sentence complete nahi kiya. Kyunki equation ka next part behad terrifying tha: Agar Inspector Vikram dead declare hone ke baad bhi zinda hai, toh jin logon ne usse paper records mein "dead" karwaya tha, woh bhi hidden shadows se iska hisaab denge. Aur us dark chain mein Trupti ka family house, Trupti ka past, Trupti ka beta Rahul, aur Trupti ke physical secrets — sab kuch drag ho kar open mein aa sakte the.
Woh dono immediate library ke piche wale secluded back-gate zone gaye. Gatekeeper guard ne exact wahi briefing repeat ki jo raat ko di thi — ek violent, filthy vagrant, fragmented names, no physical trace. Neem ke tree ke niche CCTV camera angle cover nahi hota tha; us kone par lighting arrangement extremely poor tha. Abhay ne kache raste par, mudded grass par, tree root के around thorough check kiya. Koi broken rubber slipper nahi thi. Koi transparent plastic cover nahi tha. No physical evidence.
Jaise wahan kal raat koi insaan aaya hi na ho.
Abhay ke spine mein dobara intense shivering wave daud gayi.
Purani raatein. Hometown thane ki metallic smell. Vikram ki ironed khaki uniform. Uske harsh interrogations. Phir final news report — Senior Inspector killed in severe road accident, last rites performed. Us time Abhay ne deep internal relief feel kiya tha. Ab wahi 8-month-old relief flip hokar sheer horror ban chuka tha.
“Zero physical trace,” Abhay ne clenched teeth ke piche se whisper kiya. “Koi real human itni fast speed se wet ground se evaporate nahi hota. Ya toh koi third party usse car mein daal kar le gayi… ya woh daily base par shadows mein hide hone ka habitual hai.”
Trupti completely quiet khadi rahi. Uske dark mind mein Rahul ka cold face aur clear command repeat hone laga. Usne Abhay ke samne Rahul ka single hint bhi drop nahi kiya.
Dopahar ko 1:30 baj rahe the. Aryan unke samne khada tha — main canteen ke outer shade area mein. White formal shirt ironed thi, hair neat, aur dark eyes polite base par down thin.
Abhay ne aage badh kar first-year junior ka right hand pakda. Extremely tight, firm handshake. “Kal raat… jo tune Trupti ke liye kiya… main life-long bhoolne wala nahi hoon, Aryan. Tu abhi NIFT first-year mein hai. Phir bhi tu violent situation mein ruka. Main tera deep thankful hoon.”
Aryan ne politely head nod kiya. “Koi bhi student help karta, Abhay bhaiya.”
“Koi bhi randomly risk nahi leta,” Abhay ne firm tone mein override kiya. “Isliye aaj se tu humare inner student circle mein regular rahega. Canteen, event planning, late evening committee tasks. Trupti aage se akeli issue paths par walk nahi karegi. Tu campus timings mein accessible rehna. Main bhi rahunga, lekin main corporate finance aur final placement prep ki wajah se 24/7 present nahi ho paata.”
Yeh exact statement unke beech fall hua. Trupti ne instantly space calculate ki. Abhay busy schedule mein trapped tha. Ab woh openly access hand-over kar raha tha. Aryan ko apne private circle mein entry dena Abhay ka genuine gratitude tha — aur uski own absence ka solution bhi.
Kriti aur Sheetal late canteen desk par join hui. Short briefing suni — stranger disturbance, junior rescue, safe return. Sheetal ne Aryan ke liye special tea order ki. Kriti ne laughing tone mein comment kiya, “Toh ab Aryan official personal bodyguard spot par appoint ho gaya hai kya?” Group mein formal laughter aayi. Laughing okay thi... situation cover up ho gayi thi.
Shaam ke time fest committee table par group size grow kar chuka tha. Aryan wooden desk ke edge corner par silent baitha tha. Speech minimal thi. Trupti ko directly face-to-face look karne se completely avoid kar raha tha. Rescue moment ke baad uske internal male system mein jo forbidden spark generate hua tha, usse usne suppression mode mein daba liya tha. Trupti ne bhi apni physical wetness aur taboo thrill ko mask ke piche lock kar rakha tha. Lekin group table par Aryan ka physical presence ab fully validated tha. Abhay ki official approval se.
Trojan horse fortress ke andar entry kar chuka tha — bina Abhay ke, aur bina Aryan ke khud yeh reality jaane ki woh Trupti ke incestuous dark world ka catalyst ban raha hai.
Raat ko Trupti Abhay ke private off-campus flat par stay ki.
Unka physical encounter lengthy ya delicate nahi tha. It was intense, tight, needy, aur trauma-driven sex. Abhay ne bed par Trupti ko extreme physical strength se hold kiya, uski lower body ke deep inside fully penetrate kiya, aur uske ear ke paas continuous whisper karta raha: “Main hoon na... main sab handle kar lunga, Trupti.” Trupti ne Abhay ko orgasm achieve karwaya, usse psychologically satisfied feel karwaya... lekin eye closure ke piche uske inner mind mein exact teen male portraits pulse kar rahe the.

USA — California, Same Day Afternoon
Stanford Graduate college of Business ka main lecture hall. High ceilings, tier-seated structure, aur glass-wall design.
Professor Hale ne advanced financial engineering & board disruption module ke mid-term pairing results main projector screen par publish kiye. Rahul San Francisco ne desk par leaned posture mein apna name check kiya. Uske name ke exact opposite panel par partner assignment tha: Liam Brooks.
Yeh unexpected pairing nahi thi. Initial modules mein unke quantitative risk models merge hue the. Lekin final board-level disruption case project ke liye un dono ke analytical framework completely opposite directions mein stand kar rahe the. Aaj public presentation draft mein internal clash violent mode mein burst hua.
Private glass conference room mein Liam Brooks ne digital marker handle karte hue Rahul ki terminal slide projection ko pause kar diya.
Liam 23 saal ka East-Coast elite Ivy-League graduate tha — sharp jawline, ice-blue eyes, extremely polished blonde hair, aur minimalist tailored suit.
“Yeh systemic risk model paper par hyper-clean lagta hai, Rahul,” Liam ne cold, articulate American accent mein continuous point out kiya. “Until you ask the primary question: who absorbs the initial liquidity hit? Tum assume kar rahe ho ki corporate board members original founders ki tarah emotionally behave karenge. Real market dynamic mein they don’t.”
Rahul ne leather chair par back lean kiya. Uske black hair sharp, neat line mein fixed the, aur uski dark eyes mein ek lethal, unreadable calm layer thin.
“They behave like whoever is left standing after the execution,” Rahul ne low, balanced tone mein reply kiya. “Your proposed governance model protects the legacy room. My structural model replaces the room entirely.”
Liam ki ice-blue eyes Rahul ke unmoving face par locked thin. Uski lips par single warm smile nahi thi. “That’s not strategic financial analysis, Rahul. That’s raw predatory appetite.”
Glass room mein do international post-grad students tight silence mein baithe hue the. Dono ne awkwardness mein apni eyes down kar li thin. Liam ne noise pitch turn up nahi ki; Rahul ne bhi decibel raise nahi kiya. Phir bhi room ki hawa thick air tension se heavy thi.
“Appetite without structural compliance is a guaranteed market crash,” Liam ne white marker desk par place karte hue final statement diya.
“Compliance without appetite is just a well-documented funeral,” Rahul ne without delay counter-fire kiya.
Professor Hale glass door open karke inside step in hue. Both profiles ko analyze kiya. “Good work, gentlemen. Keep this high-voltage friction strictly inside the final research paper, not in the department hallways.” Unhone faint smile dene ki try ki. Both Rahul and Liam offered brief, unemotional nods.
Corridor mein walking movement ke time, Liam ne Rahul ke parallel walking step par only single direct line delivery ki: “I don't like people who treat classmates like chess pieces.”
Rahul stopped. Usne turning gaze se Liam ki eyes mein seedha penetrate kiya. Cold. Absolute zero temperature.
“Then don’t sit across from me at the table.”
Liam without a single word ahead badh gaya.
Rahul ne coat pocket se apna high-encryption black smartphone nikaala. Dedicated private note file open ki:
[TARGET NOTE]: Liam Brooks — High threat priority. Not standard student background. Extreme precision + high institutional leverage. Monitor movement inside and outside the academic block.
Rahul ne us note ke niche single horizontal dividing line drop ki, aur India operation status ka encrypted entry update kiya:
[INDIA STATUS]: Inspector Vikram active on Nashik campus perimeter. Do not execute remote linkage yet. Let the mother navigate the initial terror.
Raat ko — India Time 11:45 PM.
Abhay ne flat se nikal kar last time college back-gate parameter ka solo round liya. Neem ka tree. Sodium light illumination. Empty space. Usne local security officer station ke ek old contact officer ko SMS draft kiya... aur complete message erase kar diya. Kyunki dead officer ki unofficial search drive restart karna — apne purane criminal case file ko khud reopen karne ke barabar tha.
Trupti hostel room 304 ke single bed par leti hui thi. Aryan ka WhatsApp notification screen par flash hua:
Aryan: Kal main exact 5:00 PM library outer steps par rahunga. In case aapki committee meeting late windup hoti hai.
Trupti ne notification bar se direct short text send kiya:
Trupti: Okay. Thank you, Aryan.
Rahul ka chat thread usne view tak nahi kiya.
Lekin room ki total darkness mein, Trupti Khanna ke internal conscience ki balance sheet poori tarah change ho chuki thi:
Abhay ko unka purana Hometown Inspector recall ho chuka tha. Inspector Vikram ground se ghost ki tarah vanish ho chuka tha. Junior Aryan official entry lekar boundary ke andar aa chuka tha. Aur USA mein ek highly elite rival Rahul ke violent path ke samne khada ho chuka tha.
Phase 2 ki zameen ab safe ya smooth nahi bachi thi.
Woh poori tarah shift ho chuki thi... incest, blackmail, aur dangerous shadows ki violent landmine mein.


Raat ke exact 12:10 baj rahe the.

Girls' hostel ke room 304 mein Sheetal gheri neend mein so chuki thi. Trupti ne ekdam chupke se jaakar bathroom ka lakdi ka darwaza andar se lock kar liya. Exhaust fan on kar diya taaki aawaaz bahar room tak na jaaye. Mobile ki light ekdam kam ki. Kaampte haathon se usne message type karna shuru kiya. Pehle teen baar type kiya, phir mita diya. Phir chauthi baar mein button daba hi diya.
Trupti:
Rahul... kya tum abhi call kar sakte ho? Bohat zaroori baat hai.
Reply 40 second ke andar screen par aa gaya.
Rahul:
Video call par aao. Abhi ke abhi.
Trupti ne jaldi se baal khol liye. Din bhar ka saaf chehra aur nighty ke upar ek warm shawl lapet liya. Direct call receive ki.
Rahul ke piche US wale room ki halki light jal rahi thi. Black t-shirt, bikhre hue baal. Glass table par aaj daru ka glass nahi tha. Uska chehra ekdam shant aur khush lag raha tha — jaise din bohot achha gaya ho. San Francisco ki presentation, college ka kaam, jo bhi tha, uska mood ekdam set tha.
“Bolo, Mummy,” usne ekdam aaram se kaha. Aawaaz mein koi gussa nahi tha.
Trupti ne ek lambi saans li. Uski aankhein screen par Rahul ke chehre par tiki thin. “Rahul... Inspector Vikram zinda hai.”
Rahul ki aankhein thodi chhotii huin. “Kya bola?”
“Inspector Vikram zinda hai,” Trupti ki aawaaz kaampne lagi. “Woh accident mein nahi mara tha. Kal shaam ko campus ke piche wale kaley kache raste par mera rasta rok kar khada tha. Ekdam gande bhikari ke faate hue kapdon mein... dimaag se pagal. Usne mera poora naam liya. Purana case, Vikki ka murder, aur... woh thane wali raat.”
Trupti ne sharm aur darr se aankhein jhuka lin. “Usne woh sab gandi baatein yaad kiin, Rahul... Mera muh, uski gandi demands. Phir usne mujhe zabardasti ped ke piche kheenchna shuru kiya. Thik usii time humara first-year junior student Aryan beech mein aa gaya. Aryan ne usse zor ka dhakka dekar gira diya aur hum aage bhaag gaye. Phir woh andhere mein pata nahi kahan gayab ho gaya. Subah Abhay ne mujhe saath lekar poora rasta dhundha... lekin wahan koi nishaan nahi tha. Koi chappal nahi, kuch nahi. Jaise zameen khana nikal gayi ho.”
Rahul ne 10 second tak screen par ek lafz nahi bola. Uska chehra ekdam shant tha, lekin dimaag ke andar violent calculations chal rahi thin.
Mar gaya tha.
Yeh baat papers mein close ho chuki thi. Local security officer file band thi. Par ab woh inspector zinda bhikari ban kar, adha pagal dimaag le kar, uski maa ke raste par khada tha. Aur phir itni safai se gayab ho gaya ki Abhay jaisa ladka bhi koi nishaan na dhundh sake.
Isse koi bacha raha hai?
Ya yeh khud chhup raha hai?
Yeh sab sawal Rahul ne Trupti ke saamne nahi khole.
Usne chair par aage jhuk kar camera ke bilkul paas apna chehra kiya. Uska posture aur aawaaz ek second mein badal gayi. Woh darr aur control sab gayab ho gaya, aur uski jagah ek bohot hi pyare, izzat dene wale beta wali aawaaz bahar aayi — wahi aawaaz jo Trupti ghar par suna karti thi.
“Mummy.”
Trupti ki aankhein ekdam se upar uthin. Yeh izzat wala lafz usne kitne mahino se nahi suna tha. Pehle woh Trupti keh ke bulata tha ya rukhe se Mom. Aaj uske muh se poori izzat se Mummy nikla.
“Suno, Mummy,” Rahul ne bohot hi mithi, aaram dene wali aawaaz mein kaha. “Tu abhi poori tarah safe hai. Hostel ka darwaza band hai, Sheetal tere paas so rahi hai. Kal se woh shortcut rasta bilkul band. Tu sirf auto ya group ke saath jaayegi. Jo junior ladka Aryan hai, usse faaltu mein door mat bhaga, lekin uske saath akeli bhi mat rehna. Main yahan se sab dekh raha hoon. Tu bilkul mat dar. Woh Vikram jo bhi hai — ek toota hua bhikari hai. Main tujhe kuch nahi hone dunga.”
Trupti ka gala bhar aaya. Kitne mahino ke gande guilt ke baad aaj finally uska apna soga beta usse ek bete ki tarah sambhal raha tha. Koi gandi demand nahi, koi daant nahi. Pehle maa ki care, baaki sab baad mein.
“Rahul…” Trupti ne kaampte hue kaha, “Main shaam se bohot dari hui thi... Mujhe laga tumne us time accident fake...”
Rahul ne ek halki, pyari smile di — ek innocent aur izzatdaar bete wali. “Ab un purani baaton ko yaad mat karo, Mummy. Tu meri sagi maa hai. Tera kaam darna nahi hai. Mera kaam tujhe sambhalna hai. Batao, aaj shaam ko khana khaya? Neend aayi?”




Trupti ne haan mein sir hilaya, phir naa mein shake kar diya. “Khana khaya tha... lekin neend bilkul nahi aayi. Haath abhi tak us gande inspector ki grip yaad karke kaamp rahe hain.”

“Pehle thoda paani piyo, Mummy. Room ki light on rakho. Main abhi 10 minute tak call par tere saath hoon,” Rahul ne table se paani ka glass utha kar sip liya, aur screen se Trupti ko bhi paani peene ko kaha, jaise woh ghar ke dining table par saamne baitha ho. “Batao, Abhay ne kya bola?”
“Abhay ne naam sunte hi pehchan liya. Thane wala inspector yaad aa gaya. Woh khud bohot dar gaya. Poore raste par dhundha, par kuch nahi mila.”
Rahul ne haan mein sir hilaya. Dimaag mein note banaya — Abhay ko sab yaad hai. Woh purani file khol sakta hai. Bahar usne wahi pyari aawaaz rakhi, “Abhay ne sahi kiya, Mummy. Tu uske paas zyada raha kar, tujhe safe feel hoga.”
Trupti ne shawl ko apne gale se aur tight lapet liya. Uske chehre par poore hafte ke baad pehli baar ek sachhi, pyari smile aayi. “Aaj tum... bilkul ghar wale Rahul jaisey baat kar rahe ho. Bohot pyare aur sweet.”
“Main hamesha tera beta hi rahunga, Mummy,” Rahul ne halki aawaaz mein izzat se kaha. “Aaj San Francisco mein mera college ka kaam bohot achha gaya tha, mood sahi tha. Aur jab tera call aaya, toh pehle mujhe meri pyari Mummy dikhi... baaki sab baad mein.”
Woh 10 minute tak ekdam normal aur izzat se baat karte rahe. College ka fest, library ka kaam, Sheetal ki late-night Maggi, aur San Francisco ki thand. Trupti ne smile ke saath bataya ki hostel ka geyser kharab ho gaya hai, aur Rahul ne bete ki tarah bola ki kal plumber ko bol dena, jaise woh sach mein agle room mein baitha ho. Trupti ke kandhe ekdam relax ho gaye the. Usse laga woh sach mein uski maa hai.
Phir Rahul ne table par ungli tap ki. Aawaaz itni smooth badli ki Trupti ko laga normal baat hi pooch raha hai.
“Waise Mummy... Abhay ke saath teri love life aur sex kaisa chal raha hai?”
Trupti ek second ko ruki, chehra sharm se laal hone laga. “Yeh... yeh kaisa sawaal hai jo ek beta apni maa se pooch raha hai?”
“Tera pyara beta hi pooch raha hai, Mummy,” Rahul ne aawaaz ko bohot hi sweet aur soft rakha. “Abhay tera hone wala pati hai. I know woh busy rehta hai, par kya woh meri Mummy ko bed par poora mazaa deta hai?”
Trupti ne baal kaan ke piche kiye. Chehra neeche kar liya. “Kal shaam se pehle... woh padhai mein busy tha. Par kal shaam ko usne mere liye time nikaala... Hum uske flat par the. Uske ghar wale bahar gaye hue the.”
Rahul ki dark aankhein screen par thodi chhotii huin, par chehre par wahi pyari smile rahi. “Achha? Phir Abhay ne meri pyari Mummy ko achhe se pyaar kiya?”
“Haan...” Trupti ne neeche dekhte hue kaha. “Main bhi... main bhi bohot taras rahi thi. Kitne dino baad hum akele the. Main... maine khud pehle shuruat ki, Rahul. Maine khud uske kapde utaare. Maine pehle—” Trupti beech mein ruk gayi, chehra laal ho gaya.
“Bolo, Mummy,” Rahul ne ekdam dheeme, pyare tarike se fusfusaaya. Aawaaz mein poora beta wala pyaar tha, par andar ek ajeeb sa maza chal raha tha. “Apne pyare bete se sharma kyun rahi ho? Bolo na.”
Trupti ki saans tez hone lagi. Rahul ki iss sweet aawaaz ne Trupti ka darr ekdam khatam kar diya tha. Iss izzat wali mithi aawaaz ne uske andar ki slut ko ekdam khol diya tha.
“Maine Abhay ka... uska hard lund apne muh mein liya...” Trupti ne dheemi, kaampti aawaaz mein batana shuru kiya. “Maine uske tatte aur lund ko bohot der tak chusa. Phir Abhay ne mujhe bed par lita kar meri choot ko jibh se chaata... Bohot der tak. Phir... usne mujhe pakad kar andar daal diya. Main zor-zor se uske kandhe pakad kar ahein bhar rahi thi... uska naam le kar bol rahi thi ki zor se chodo... Main do-teen baar nikal chuki thi... aur last mein Abhay ne mujhe kas ke pakad kar apna garma-garam maal meri choot ke andar chhod diya.”
Rahul ne ek ghoont paani bhi nahi piya. Screen par Trupti ke garama-garam chehre, chamakti hui skin aur laal gaalon ko poore focus se dekhta raha. Uske andar ek zabardast, ganda nasha daud raha tha — apni sundar sagi maa ke muh se kisi 21-saal ke ladke ke saath uski choot ki chudai aur andar maal girne ki poori kahani sunna.
“Abhay toh bohot lucky ladka hai,” Rahul ne halki double-meaning aawaaz mein kaha. Trupti ne sirf maa wala matlab liya. “Aur woh first-year ka junior ladka Aryan? Jo kal shaam ko hero ban kar bachane aaya tha?”
Trupti ke haath shawl par ruk gaye. “Aryan... first year ka seedha ladka hai. Usne kal incident se ek din pehle bataya tha ki mera chehra... meri body uski mari hui sagi didi se milti hai. Uski didi 3 saal pehle accident mein mar gayi thi. Usne maana ki woh mujhe didi bhi samjhta hai... aur thoda ajeeb tarike se pasand bhi karta hai. Maine usse daant kar samjha diya tha. Lekin kal usne meri jaan bachayi, toh Abhay ne usse humare group mein daal diya.”
Rahul ke hothon par wahi halki smile rahi... lekin screen ke piche uske dimaag mein ek teez aag jal gayi.
Didi.
Maa.
Wahi ek jaisa ganda nasha.
“Group mein,” Rahul ne ekdam clear aawaaz mein repeat kiya. “Matlab woh roz meri Mummy ke paas rahega.”
“Haan, Rahul. Roz kaam mein saath rahega.”
Rahul ek second ke liye chup hua. Phir jab uski aawaaz aayi, woh ekdam dheemi, resham jaisi soft thi, par uske piche ekdam saaf command tha.
“Kal se jab Aryan tere paas aaye... tu usse daantna mat, Mummy. Ek pyari, badi didi ban kar rehna. Jab woh tujhe dekhe, toh ek mithi smile dena. Aur jab tum dono saath baithe ho, toh ek-do photo khinch kar mere private chat par bhej dena. Main dekhna chahta hoon ki meri pyari Mummy iss junior ko kaise sambhalti hai.”
Trupti ki aankhein hairani se upar uthin. “Rahul… yeh… yeh tum kya bol rahe ho...?”
“Mummy,” Rahul ne turant wahi ghar wala sweet, pyara tone wapas la diya. “Main tujhe koi tension nahi de raha. Tu shaam se bohot dari hui thi. Main tera dimaag thoda busy rakhna chahta hoon. Main San Francisco mein itni door hoon, mera man karta hai tujhe aur tere aas-paas ke logon ko dekhne ka. Tu meri pyari maa hai, aur mere control mein rehne wali sabse hot aurat bhi. Yeh junior ladka tujhe didi samajh kar taras raha hai... toh tu usse dar mat. Uske saath ek chhota sa game khel. Abhay ko iss photo aur baaton ke baare mein ek lafz pata nahi chalna chahiye. Mujhe poori khabar chahiye.”

Trupti ke pet aur choot ke andar ek garma-garam paani behne laga. Guilt ke saath-saath ek zabardast geelapan bahar aa gaya. Ek hi call ke andar — pyara soga beta jo izzat de raha tha, aur wahi beta jo usse order dekar dusre 19-saal ke ladke ke saath game khelne ko bol raha tha.

“Main… main poori koshish karungi, Rahul…” Trupti ne ekdam kamzor, surrender ki hui aawaaz mein kaha.
Rahul ne apni black t-shirt ko thoda upar uthaya.
“Ab phone ko thoda neeche karo, Mummy,” Rahul ki aawaaz ek second mein pyare beta se badal kar ganda malik ban gayi jo apni Trupti ko chalata hai. “Nighty dikhao. Aaj mera bohot mood hai. Main pehle tujhe ek pyari maa ki tarah sambhal chuka hoon... Ab tujhe dekh kar main apna paani nikalna chahta hoon. Patli nighty ke upar se apne dono bade dudh dikhao. Poora utaarne ki zaroorat nahi hai.”
Trupti ne kaampte haathon se phone ko neeche kiya. Woollen shawl ko kandhon se gira diya. Satin ki patli nighty pehni hui thi. Uske andar Trupti ke bade 36-D dudh aur uske uffarte hue nipples ekdam saaf dikh rahe the.
Rahul ki bhaari saans screen se sunai de rahi thi. Phone neeche nahi hua tha, par Trupti uske chehre se saaf samajh sakti thi ki Rahul camera ke piche apne hard lund ko kitni tez hila raha hai.
Trupti ki choot se gaadha paani nikal kar nighty ko andar se geela kar raha tha.
“Abhay ke saath shaam ko chudai aur andar maal girwane ke baad bhi... tu meri resham jaisi aawaaz sunte hi geeli ho jaati hai, Trupti,” Rahul ne ekdam dheemi, gandi fusfusaahat mein screen se order diya. “Yeh bohot achhi baat hai. Iska matlab tu sirf meri cheez hai. Apni do ungliyan neeche panty ke andar daalo. Dheere-dheere apni geeli danee par ragdo. Chehre par wahi pyari maa wali sharm rakho, par ungliyan mat rokna.”
Trupti ne aankhein band kar lin. Right hand nighty ke andar gaya. Geeli panty ko side kiya. Beech wali do ungliyan direct uski suji hui, fadhakthi hui danee aur geeli choot par ragadne lagin.




Abhay ka kal shaam ka sookha maal andar... Vikram ki woh gandi yaad... Aryan ka didi wala nasha... aur screen par live apna lund hilaata hua uska apna soga beta Rahul.

Trupti ne ungliyon ki speed tez kar di. Exhaust fan ki aawaaz ke piche uski dheemi ahein dabne lagin. Rahul screen par uske laal chehre, kaatte hue hothon, aur hilte hue doodhon ko dekhte hue apni mithi aawaaz mein bolta raha:
“Bohot achhe, Trupti... ekdam achhi, kehna maanne wali maa ki tarah... continuous ragdte raho... tu poori ki poori meri hai... Abhay tujhe bed par chod kar shant kar sakta hai, par tera dimaag aur teri choot hamesha ke liye meri hai.”

Trupti ki poori kamar zor-zor se hilne lagi. Uski choot ke andar ek zabardast jhatka laga aur garma-garam paani bahar nikal gaya — ek bohot hi tez orgasm. Trupti ne jaldi se apna baayan haath muh par rakh kar apni aah ko daba diya. Screen ke dusri taraf Rahul ne ek lambi saans ke saath apna haath roka, aur saans ko aaram dene ke liye thoda side hua.

30 second ke sannate ke baad, Rahul screen par wapas aaya. Uska chehra ekdam saaf, shant aur akad mein tha. Uske hothon par wahi pyari, izzatdaar aawaaz wapas aa gayi:
“Ab thoda paani pee kar bed par so jaao, Mummy. Kal subah pehla kaam — mujhe message karna ‘main theek hoon’. Aur jab bhi moka mile, us junior ladke Aryan ki ek photo bhej dena. Zabardasti mat karna. Good night, my pyari Mummy.”
Screen ekdam black ho gayi. Call kat gaya.
Trupti bathroom ke thande floor par baithi rahi. Satin ki nighty neeche se poori geeli ho chuki thi. Aankhein aansuon se bhari huin thin. Uska dimaag do hisson mein toot chuka tha:
Ek hissa bohot khush tha — Rahul ne phone par izzat se 'Mummy' bola, care kiya, ek achhe bete ki tarah baat ki.
Dusra hissa kadwa sach jaanta tha — usne Inspector Vikram ki khabar de di thi, Aryan ka naam bata diya tha, aur apne bete ke saamne apna jism aur dimaag wapas surrender kar diya tha.