[OLDWINE]

Story DISCONTINUED

Characters (till last update)

Natasha - Age 28, a newlywed housewife.


Pritam- Natasha's husband, age 32. Job - family business.

Vishal Gupta - Natasha's neighbour. age 52 . Retired . Strated a prank by faking Alzhimer's disease.

Rocky - Age 23 . College student. Lives in the same neighbourhood.

Dr.Arun -Mr.Gupta's friend. He helped Mr Gupta to establish the prank.

[OLDWINE]

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[OLDWINE]

Vishal


I never thought I would be one to deceive people, but here I am, pretending to suffer from Alzheimer's disease at the ripe age of 52.


 It all started when I coincidentally visited an older woman's house with my Psysician buddy, Arun. We were hanging out together, and he had to take the emergency house call.

At the patient's house, I noticed the increasing attention the elderly woman was getting from her family and friends. Everyone was constantly doting on her, making sure she was comfortable and taken care of. And as a bachelor with no immediate family, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy.

All my life, I vowed to spend my life without a family and leave this world without any heir. I  planned my life that way and was spending my life as such.

But seeing that woman cocooned with affection from her near and dear ones changed something in me. I  felt that I had been missing a significant life experience and might have committed a colossal blunder by choosing to live a solitary life.

On my way home in the car, I casually threw the idea of pretending to be an Alzheimer's patient to my physician friend, Arun. Arun has a morbid sense of humor, and he agreed that would be a wicked prank to pull on our friends.

So thus, it began.

Next week, I decided to bring up the topic of Alzheimer's disease during a casual conversation with my friends at a house gathering. I acted as if I was speaking out of genuine concern and curiosity, but secretly, I was testing the waters to see if anyone would pity me if I were to pretend to have the disease. And to my surprise, my friends seemed to buy into my act.

From that point on, I would subtly drop hints about my supposed forgetfulness and confusion. I would ask the same questions repeatedly, forget important dates and appointments, and even need clarification about familiar places. And with each act, the attention and sympathy poured in.

Arun, my doctor friend, was my partner in crime in this. He backed me up by lying that he had checked me and found I had a few early signs of Alzheimer's. With the support of my friend's professional opinion, people around me began to treat my fake disease as accurate. I started noticing how people would look at me with sympathy and treat me with extra care.

My neighbors started to treat me like a fragile man, always offering to help and checking up on me. They would even come over to my house to make sure I had taken my medication and to help me with simple tasks like grocery shopping. But the best part was the attention I received from some of my neighbors who never really bothered to strike up a conversation with me before this. People were more patient with me, offering to carry my bags or holding doors open for me. And I have to admit, it felt good to be taken care of.

At first, I just went along with it for fun. I would pretend to forget things or get confused with simple tasks. My neighbors, friends, local shop owners, vendors, and tuk-tuk drivers would be worried sick, but I found it amusing. They would constantly remind me of things and help me with daily chores. It felt good to have all this attention and feel like the center of their world.

But as time went on, I started pulling bigger stunts. I would pretend to get lost in familiar places or have random outbursts of anger or confusion. I even started faking panic attacks, causing everyone to rush to my side with concern. 

I know it may seem cruel, but I couldn't help but enjoy the attention and care I was receiving.

It has become an addiction now. Of course, I had to be careful not to overdo it. I had to play the part just right so that people wouldn't become too suspicious. I started to study actual patients who have Alzheimer's disease, trying to mimic their behavior as convincingly as possible.

But as much as I enjoy the attention, I know deep down that I am being selfish and manipulating those around me. I can see the toll it is taking on my conscience, and the guilt is starting to eat away at me. I should stop, but I can't find the willpower to give up the attention and care.

However, my little game took a dark turn when one of my neighbors who works at an NGO invited me to speak at a charity event for Alzheimer's patients. I prepared a fake speech filled with exaggerated symptoms and my supposed daily struggles. But as I stand before the audience, I see the tears in the eyes of those who are actually suffering from this disease, and I am hit with a wave of guilt.

That night, I stayed up late and decided to put a stop to this little prank of mine.

I was genuinely prepared to discuss this with Arun the next day, but something unexpected happened the next couple of days.

My neighbor's son, Pritam, was getting married, and the moment I saw his new bride, Natasha, a shiver ran through my spine. At that moment, I knew I wanted her.


Natasha

I had always expected marriage to be full of love, happiness, and a new beginning. However, as soon as I stepped into my new home, that picture shattered into a million pieces. The house is beautiful, but it came with a catch – a creepy middle-aged neighbor, Vishal Gupta.

I despised the way he would stare at me every time I walked past his house. I hated how he would come over unannounced and start rambling about his past, not caring if I had other things to do. And most of all, I couldn't stand the fact that he seemed to have no respect for boundaries and would often show up at our doorstep uninvited.

As a newlywed woman, I kept my cool and kept my displeasure to myself. It was too early to bare my claws in my new surroundings, and I had a honeymoon to look forward to.

It was a beautiful Autumn day, and I had just returned from my honeymoon with my husband. As I was unpacking, I heard a faint knock on my door. I opened it to see my neighbor, Mr. Vishal, standing there with a weird smile.

'Welcome back, dear. How was your honeymoon?' he asked in his usual creepy manner.

His intrusion took me aback. Who was he to ask about my personal life? I snobbishly replied, 'It's none of your business, Mr.Gupta. I suggest you keep your nosy questions to yourself.'

He looked hurt, and his smile faded. But I didn't care. I was in a bad mood, and his presence annoyed me. I rudely shut the door on his face and continued with my unpacking.

Days turned into weeks, and I found myself constantly bumping into Mr. Gupta. Whether it was at the grocery store or while taking a walk, he always seemed to be around. I started to despise his company even more, and my behavior towards him became more and more unpleasant.


One day, as I was trying to relax in my backyard, I heard Mr.Gupta yelling at his TV in his house. This was a common occurrence, and I had enough. With annoyance building up inside me, I stormed over to his premises and confronted him about his disruptive behavior.

I didn't hold back my frustration and vented out all my annoyance towards him. To my surprise, he didn't respond but instead looked at me with a blank expression. Feeling accomplished with my outburst, I stormed back to my yard.

That night, I finally disclosed my displeasure about Mr.Gupta to my husband, Pritam, and told him about the confrontation. Pritam looked shocked and informed me that Mr.Gupta had been diagnosed with Alzheimer's disease. My heart sank, and I felt immense guilt for my behavior towards him. Other people did tell me that Mr.Gupta was sick, but they did not tell me that it was Alzheimer's.

I had no idea he was struggling with such a devastating disease. As I reflected on my behavior, I realized that his actions were not out of malice but out of confusion and memory loss.


I couldn't believe it. All this time, I had been so rude and dismissive towards this man who was battling with such a dreadful disease. The guilt overwhelmed me, and I knew I had to make things right.

From that day on, I made an effort to visit Mr.Gupta every day. I would take him for walks, read the newspaper to him, or sit and listen to his stories.

[OLDWINE]

VISHAL

Natasha's behavior towards me has changed after she yelled at me the other day. I presume, somehow, she has now gained the knowledge that I am suffering from Alzheimer's disease, which I am really not.


Earlier, I decided to drop the act before everyone, but since I had seen Natasha, that newlywed woman was treating me like a nobody. My continuous intrusion into her house or any attempt from my side to be around her was visibly irritating to her.

 I had no choice but to use my fake disease to get close to her. I had no other play left. I am a regular-looking guy who is in his early 50s, and she is a walking-talking diva.

Anyhow, my patience has paid off. Her attitude towards me has mellowed down, and she is apologetic. 

Now that Natasha has grasped that she is dealing with an Alzheimer's patient, I need to up my game.

She told me yesterday that she would come to my house around 10 am today, and the clock on the wall says just five minutes are remaining.

I am nervous. I feel like I am beginning a new chapter in my life.

I take a deep breath when I hear a knock on the door. As soon as Natasha opened it, I put on my best confused and forgetful act. 'He..lloo, I'm sorry, do I...do we know each other?' I ask, pretending to struggle with my memories.

Pity and regret wash over Natasha's face.

"I'm Natasha, your neighbor,' she says with a warm smile. 

I couldn't believe my luck. She was even more beautiful up close. She is wearing a tight salwar suit with a plunging neckline. The tight fabric of the suit accentuates her slim waist, and the bright hues of the suit complimented her skin, making her glow under the warm sun.

"Oh, I know I know...I was joking, Natasha." I put on a faint smile, pretending that I remembered her.

"Of course you do." Natasha plays along; most probably, she does not want me to feel embarrassed about my memory loss.

 My plan was set into motion. I am keeping up the façade of being an Alzheimer's patient while I am around Natasha, giving her the impression that I need her help and attention. For that, I started to leave notes for myself on the refrigerator, on the desk, etc., pretending that I tend to forget things so that she could read those notes and follow the instructions.

Natasha knows the deal, and first, she comes forward to check the table in the drawing room. With each step she took, the bangles on her wrists jingled, adding to the hypnotic aura she exuded.

She hovers over the table, searching for NOTES. 

The thin straps of her Kameez revealed her toned shoulders, while the sheer fabric of the dupatta seductively dbangd over her curves.

She tilts her head, going through the planned gibberish I have written on the table; the bindi on her forehead only enhanced her sultry gaze as she focuses, and the low-cut neckline exposes the perfect swell of her ample bosom, teasingly inviting my wandering eyes.

It took her a few seconds to realize that the notes on the table were not my reminder notes.

She turned and headed towards the refrigerator, just as I anticipated.

"Offf ohh... what are these!!!" Natasha exclaims, stumbling upon the carefully scattered paperweights on the floor.

"Oh, I forgot to pick those up." I get up, feigning concern.

"It's alright,You sit down. I will take care of these." Natasha says in a sweet voice.

She moved with grace, her body fluid and effortless as she crouched down to pick up the scattered paperweights on the floor. Her salwar suit hugged her curves, the fabric clinging onto every inch of her tempting body. 

 The tight fabric of the salwar suit accentuates her slim waist. The slits on the sides of her kurta revealed her toned thighs as she moved, drawing my attention to her long legs.
Once she was done, she finally walked towards the refrigerator in the hall.

Her long, dark hair was styled in loose curls that cascaded down her back, brushing against the curve of her hips.  

 As she took the stamped Note from the refrigerator, the low back of her kurta exposed the smooth expanse of her skin, sending a ripple of desire through my body.

Taking the Note, she reached for the cupboard where my medicines were kept; her dupatta slipped off her shoulder, revealing a glimpse of her milky skin and a slight amount of cleavage. Her bangles chimed softly with her movements, adding to the sensuality of the scene. Her high heels added to her height, making her look even more alluring.

Despite the simplicity of her outfit, there was an undeniable allure about this woman. She exuded an air of confidence, her every action oozing with a subtle hint of femininity and sexiness. 

She moved with elegant ease, her curves swaying delicately with each step she took before coming to me with the medicine.

"Take these Vishal uncle." Natasha insists.

I obliged and took the vitamin tablets, which she thought were medication for my Alzheimer's disease.

Next, on the Note, I wrote down a drama series. Natasha turned on the television and watched that soap with me. We talked about the characters and the drama in between.

I kept on thinking, what should I write on these NOTES for the next day?!!

[OLDWINE]

NATASHA


I expected my frequent visits to Mr. Gupta's house would be frowned upon by my new family; after all, he is a man, sick or otherwise.

 Not only did I face no such restraints from my in-laws, but also my mom-in-law encouraged me to spend time with Mr.Gupta. At first, I thought my in-laws and husband were very good-natured people for letting me take care of a sick Mr.Gupta, but soon, my perception turned out to be false.


One night, after rocking the bed together, Pritam, my husband, asks me, huffing, "Mom told me that you and Vishal's uncle bonded over some Saas bahu serial."

I chuckled, "Don't be mean. He likes such shows."

I sigh, "It is sad that he is a lonely man, and now, with that disease, he is utterly miserable."

Pritam did not seem to share my mourning.

Instead, he asks, "How close are you two now? How affectionate is he towards you?"

I sense something wrong with that question.

"What do you mean?" I frown.

" Well... there is a problem. You see that big space between our houses at the North-east corner? " He lifts his finger.

"You mean where the Neem tree is?" I reply

"Yeah. That space is disputed. My father and Vishal's uncle have been fighting in the court for 20 years now." He almost laughed at the irony.

He continues, "There is a nefarious bond between judges and lawyers in district courts. The judges get a cut of the fee the lawyers collect from the clients and intentionally delay the verdict."

This time, I giggle, "Tarikh pe Tarikh pe Tarikh type situation!!"

Pritam sneers, "Yup. Meanwhile, the judge gets transferred, and the new judge comes. The lawyers from both parties and the new judge again makes the same deal amongst themselves ...the traikh pe traikh continues."

"Why don't your father and Vishal's uncle settle the matter between themselves?" I point out the obvious.

"Well, they kind of refused to see each other's face, and we started talking with Vishal uncle only after he got diagnosed with Alzheimer's disease." He lets me know.

I take the hint.

"You want me to broker peace between your father and Vishal's uncle?" I say it without beating the bushes.

Pritam nods, "Kind of and not necessarily. I don't think their personal vendetta is ever gonna dissolve. I am hoping Vishal uncle to drop the case and hand that portion of the disputed property to us. That's why I asked how affectionate he is towards you?"

I grimace, "It is kind of wrong to take advantage of a person when he is that vulnerable, don't you think?"

Pritam grows impatient," Don't do it for my father or me..do it for our future children. Do you want our children to fight the same court case for ages?"

I stay silent. I have something thinking to do.

Pritam was still talking, "Now you can understand why I was so upset when you told me that you yelled at Vishal's uncle. I glad that you two have mended things."

[OLDWINE]

VISHAL


"You know, you gave a huge plothole in your whole story."Arun, my physician friend, teases me. He is enjoying the drama that has swirled around me. He finds it very amusing.


"What is that?" I ask reluctantly, sitting across from him in my drawing room.

"You never informed your relatives of your situation. Our friends and your neighbors might start to notice."

Including relatives in this prank would change the whole game. Sooner or later, someone is going to claim my legal custody, sighting my inability to live my life on my own.

 I took an early voluntary retirement from the steel plant where I used to work, and that relative of mine would just gobble up that money while I stayed as their vegetable puppet. There is no way I am going to drag my relatives into this mischievous drama I am enjoying.

"I would tell the friends that my neighbors are my relatives, and I would tell my neighbors that those friends are my relatives. Each group does not know the other." I laugh.

Arun grins, "And if those lies of yours get caught?"

"Hey, you forgot that I am suffering from Alzheimer's. It is natural for me to mix things up."

We both laugh together.

Arun stops first, "That's why I used to tell you that you should get married. But that time has passed. If you had married, you should not have to use a fake story to garner love and affection."

I do suspect Arun isn't just doing it for fun only; he is treating me as a patient who craves a sense of community around him.

I avoid his usual nagging about me not getting married. That ship has sadly sailed.

I adhere to a more critical topic, "Did you let everyone know that they should stop visiting me for a while?"

Arun confirms, "Yes, I have told our friends that they should leave you alone for now...your body and mind need rest."

As much as I loved the visits from my friends, now that Natasha has entered my life, I don't want to be interrupted while I spend time with her.

And who could have arranged it better than my doctor and co-conspirator, Arun?

"perfect." I laud Arun's commitment to our prank.

Arun is hesitant," What happened? I thought you were enjoying the attention. A few days ago, you were rambling about calling off the prank as you were feeling guilty, and now this ...."

"Vishal Uncle..." the melodious voice of Natasha sails into the drawing room with the soothing Autumn air.

Arun cranes his neck to follow the source, and I see his jaw drop.

"My oh my Vishal..who is this item? Is She the reason you called off your plans?My god she is gorgeous !!!" Arun exclaims, peeking through the curtain.

I can feel my eyes gleaming with mischief," Buddy, you need to go now.."

Arun gives me a dirty smile, "Oh, you dirty old dog. Now I envy you." he gets up and prepares to leave the house.

"Hang the stetoscope around your neck. So does she know that you..." I was instructing him.

Arun raises a hand, "Yeah, yeah, I got what game you are playing."

Seconds later, I heard Arun and Natasha talking outside the drawing room.

"How is Vishal uncle?" Natasha asks with concern.

Arun tells her that I need care and compassion. He thanks her for visiting me and keeping me company.

Natasha comes in and greets me. She checks the notes. We do our usual things, such as feeding medicine and watching a drama on television.

The telly showed an advertisement for toothpaste, and the dentist explained how Neem makes the toothpaste best in the market.

Natasha suddenly makes the whole conversation about Neem and its benefits, ending up mentioning the Neem tree I have at my boundary.

She kept citing the Neem tree, how she likes to cook its leaves, how delicious it tastes despite the bitter flavor, etc.

Eventually, she mentions the property case I am fighting with his father-in-law.

So that's why the whole deal about the Neem tree!! I smile inside.

She is the newest member of her family, and that dispute is almost ancient now. She could not have known about that. Someone has put her up to this. 

Someone in her family, probably her husband or in-laws, instructed her to break the ice regarding the dispute with me.

Till now, I made no advances toward my lovely neighbor, Natasha. I just ogled her figure and enjoyed her charming company, but now I know that she wants something from me. 

If she wants something from me, then I need to get something from her, too. Fair is fair.

[OLDWINE]

NEXT DAY 

NATASHA

Today is a sunny morning. I am making my usual visit to tend to Mr.Gupta. Nowadays, I am responsible for ensuring the care, attention, and medication Mr.Gupta needs. 


When I reached Mr.Gupta's house, he was sitting in the drawing room, staring off into space. I couldn't help but feel a twinge of sadness for him. 

I had heard from other people that Mr.Gupta used to be a vibrant and workaholic man, but now he could barely take care of himself.

But as I approach him, I see a glint in his eyes and a mischievous grin on his face. 'Hello there, gorgeous,' he says, his voice hoarse but full of charm. 

His sudden flirtation takes me aback, but I can't help but smile at his sweet nature. 

'Well, hello, Vishal Uncle?,' I reply, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. 'How are you feeling today?' I ask, trying to assess his mental state.


"I feel fantastic, especially now that I have such a beautiful lady keeping me company,' He smiles, his eyes never leaving mine. My cheeks turned pink, and I couldn't help but feel flattered by his compliments.

This is a new Avtar of Vishal uncle!! He has never been this flirtatious with me. Has the doctor changed his medications? or is this some episode? -I wondered.

"Vishal uncle I have to get your medicines." I implore.

"Oh I have taken it myself. I am healthy as a horse now. Sit down please. I want to talk to you." He pushes me down on the sofa beside him.

I protest, "But Vishal Uncle, you need medici..."

"Please call me Vishal,Natasha..uncle makes me feel old. Do I look old to you?" He grins and shows me his biceps.

I giggle at his show-off.

Mr.Gupta points towards my lips," There it is .. my medicine..You know, I've always believed that laughter is the best medicine, and I seem to be feeling a lot better since I met you."

Truth be told, I like this version of  Mr.Gupta more than the helpless Mr.Gupta, who constantly reminds me that he is an Alzheimer's patient. It shows he still has hope left. To me, this is progress.

Today, I find him to be a charming man, and I admire the way he is still able to maintain his sense of humor despite his supposed illness.

With a smile on my face, I ask again, "Are you sure, Mr.Gupta, that you have taken your medicines?"

Mr. Gupta is on a roll, though, ignoring my doubts.

"You know, Natasha, sometimes I feel like I'm losing my memory. But whenever I see you, I remember everything," Mr.Gupta says with a sly grin.

I chortle and reply, "You're just a smooth-talker, Vishal. I don't believe a word of it."

But Mr.Gupta wasn't giving up. He takes my hand and says, "I may not remember a lot of things, but I'll always remember your beautiful smile."

I beam and pout, "Awww, so sweet of you."

No doubt Mr.Gupta's health is a lot better than on other days. I remind myself that it is a good day to discuss the land dispute.

As I sat down next to him, Mr. Gupta continued to tell me stories from his past. His memory may have been fading, but today, I find his charm and wit are still very much present.

"Some would say I was quite the ladies' man in my day," he says, chuckling to himself. 'And you, my dear, remind me of an old flame of mine. Oh, the adventures we used to have!"

"No way... You are just being naughty now." I giggle.

"I would not lie to such a lovely lady like yourself..." His eyes glint with mischief.

"Ahhaan well then..why don't you tell me the truth about the dispute you have between you and my father-in-law regarding that space?" I come to my agenda.

Mr.Gupta's expression does not change," Oh how boring of you..here I was enjoying the lovely company of a gorgeous woman and she wants to talk about material things..how sad."

I nudge his elbow, "Come on now, Mr. Gupta, spill the beans. Nobody tells me anything about that."

Mr.Gupta stares at me for a second, "You know the old flame I was talking about whom you resemble? She used to look gorgeous in sarees."

I am wearing a salwar suit as usual today.

"Oh my god you are so wicked." I giggle.

" Come tomorrow wearing a saree, and I will tell you all about the dispute."Mr.Gupta says coyly.

[OLDWINE]

NEXT DAY

NATASHA


I am not gonna honor Mr.Gupta's flirtatious request. Wearing something that another man wants in order to extract information from him - I am not cut out for that job; neither am I married for it nor do I desire to follow another man's whims.


I did not protest Mr.Gupta's proposal cause I knew the next day he was going to forget all about it. As usual, I am wearing a homely Salwar suit while visiting Mr.Gupta's house.

As I entered Vishal's house, I could see that it was in complete disarray. Clothes were scattered all over the floor, newspapers were strewn across the coffee table, and dishes were piled up in the sink. I couldn't help but think that this was not the Vishal I saw yesterday. He was so cheerful and full of life yesterday, but today, this place looks as gloomy as a graveyard.

"Good Morning, Trisha," Mr.Gupta greets me but with the wrong name.

My heart sinks. His bright smile and kind eyes instantly catch my 
attention. 
I can tell he can't remember my name, but something about me makes him feel warm and happy.
Do I really look like his old flame? Was this Trisha woman his lover once?

'Hello Vishal,' I greet him with a smile, hiding my sadness. 'Do you remember me?'

Vishal tries to recall, but his mind fails him. 'I'm sorry, dear. I can't seem to remember your name."

"It's Natasha. I am your neighbor....and friend,' I say that with as much kindness as I can conjure.

'Natasha, yes. I remember now. You have such a lovely name,' Vishal says, trying his best to hold onto this new memory.

I laugh softly. 'Thank you, Vishal. Is there anything I can do for you today?'

"I remember now. I've been meaning to ask you for a favor. Yeah, I already asked you for this favor. You promised to wear a saree today, Natasha." Mr. Gupta sounds betrayed.

Damn, he remembers !!!

"You did?' I gulp, a little unsure of how to handle this delicate situation.

"I was wondering if you could help me remember something,' Vishal says, his expression changing suddenly.

I can't understand where this is going, but I decide to play along, "Okay, what is it that you want me to help you remember?'

"I want to see you in a saree. I want to remember what a true beauty looks like in a saree," Vishal says, his voice laced with seduction. "A sexy saree.'

My cheeks blushed at his request. I am stunned by his boldness and don't know how to respond.

"Please, Natasha. I promise I won't tell anyone. I just want to see you in a saree one last time before I forget," Vishal pleads, looking confused.

Surprised by his request, My face gets warmer.

 But seeing the longing in Vishal's eyes, I couldn't refuse this time, "Of course, Vishal. I'll come in the evening wearing a saree."

"A sexy one." Vishal grins.

"I don't know, Vishal. I don't have a saree like that." I reply, trying to stay composed.

Vishal smiles mischievously, "I'm sure you can find one among all those wedding gifts you got recently, aren't you?"

I laugh at his cheeky remark. He is being stubborn like a bulldog. I think to myself, what's the harm if this brings a little joy into his life? After all, he is gonna forget about it the next day.


"Okay, I'll see what I can do," I say, winking at him.

Vishal's face lit up, 'Excellent! I'll be waiting for you.' He says.

I couldn't believe what had just happened.

I kept telling myself that I was doing this to cheer up a sick Alzheimer's patient, but I couldn't deny that it was exciting, and I found myself looking forward to seeing his reaction when I wore the sexy saree.

[OLDWINE]

That Evening


VISHAL



I anticipated defiance from Natasha when I asked her to wear a saree for me when she nonchalantly agreed to it, probably thinking as an Alzheimer's patient, I would forget about it.


So, I staged that fake memory-loss episode and disheveled behavior in the morning. I am hoping that the stunt worked and that she will not deny my puppy-eyed request this time.
I am wearing a formal pant shirt to give her a hint that right now, I have my faculty intact.

Natasha doesn't disappoint. She reaches my house around 6 pm in the evening, wrapping a light shawl around her body; autumn is getting chilly this time of the day.

"Hello, Vishal, how are you feeling..." she purred, her eyes roaming over my body, "Oh wow...You have dressed up ".She is accustomed to seeing me only in a T-shirt and pajamas.

While speaking, she takes off her shawl from her body.

My eyes almost popped out of their sockets. She is a vision in a red saree with a low-cut blouse that shows off her ample bosom. I couldn't believe my luck.
'Wow, you look amazing,' I stutter, trying to maintain my character.

The rich fabric of Natasha's red saree hugged her curves and accentuated her features. The semi-sheer material dbangd delicately over her body, revealing just enough skin to tease.

Her blouse, a deep shade of crimson, is a snug fit, leaving much to the imagination but revealing just enough to entice. 

It has a low-cut neckline that showcases her ample cleavage and exposes her toned stomach. The delicate golden embroidery that adorned the blouse glints under the light, adding to the seductive appeal of the ensemble.

Her smoky eyes are lined with kohl, making them look even more enchanting. Her lips are painted a deep red, giving her a sultry and mysterious look.

Natasha's smile widened, noticing the admiration and longing in my eyes as she took a step back, allowing me to take in her whole appearance. "Do you like it?' she asks, twirling around playfully.


My eyes turn from side to side, admiring the saree's intricate design and the way it hugged her curves in all the right places. The backless blouse celebrated her feminine form, the thin straps adding a touch of elegance and sophistication to the overall look.

She is running her fingers through her long, dark hair, the loose strands falling elegantly over her shoulders as I gawk at her shamelessly.

I move closer to her and remark," Yes, I do like it..".

With a slight tilt of my head, I unhook her hair, letting it fall down in cascading waves. It framed her face, enhancing her features and making her look even more irresistible, "Now I absolutely love it." I step back, leaving her personal space to herself.

Natasha blushed hard. She was not expecting me to be so straightforward.

"Thank you.." She lets out a throaty, nervous chuckle.

"No, thank you, my dear Natasha, for fulfilling the request." I sound gleeful.

Natasha giggles, "You're a naughty one, Vishal. I never took you for the type to make such requests.'

I smirk, "Oh, I am just an old man who loves youth, and you, my dear, are a fountain of youth."

Natasha curls her lips, flattered by flirting, and drops her eyelashes.

"Oh oh...Vishal ..you haven't tied your laces." She notices while looking downwards.
It was intentional from my side. As an Alzheimer's patient, I am supposed to forget little things, like tying shoelaces.

"Oh I ...." I stammer, sounding embarrassed.

"It's alright.I will get it." Natasha doesn't want me to feel ashamed.

She comes forward and kneels to tie my shoes.

"No no.. you don't need to do that." I feign protest.

"Let me help you with that,' she purred, her fingers lightly grazing my ankle as she reached for my shoelaces.

My heart is pounding in my chest as her slender fingers deftly tie my shoelaces. My mind is a blur of conflicting emotions – deceit, desire, and a hint of fear at the intensity of my attraction towards Natasha.

My eyes followed the valley of her blouse, and I was met with a sight that took my breath away.

My eyes are glued to her cleavage. It is a sight to behold, the swell of her breasts barely contained by her blouse. Those are perfectly round and full, like two ripe peaches begging to be touched.

The way her blouse stretched over her ample breasts from this angle made my heart race. I can feel my cheeks flush as I imagine burying my face in between her bosoms.

 I can't tear my eyes away from them. How soft and supple those must feel in my hands, I wonder.

"There you go...now your gentleman gets up is complete." She smiles at me, and I quickly avert my eyes from her breasts.


"Thank you, Natasha." 

She gets up, managing her pallu, "Why are you wearing formal shoes in your home?"  She asks.

I smile shyly," I was hoping to have a dance with you."

"I see.." Natasha's eyes twinkled." Did you used to do that with your  old flame?" She taunts me.

"Yes and she liked it very much. I still got some moves." I try to pique her interest.
Natasha looks hesitant.

"I promise it won't be anything explicit, Natasha," I assure her, getting bolder, my gaze never leaving her, "Just a little flirting, a little role-playing. It'll be our little secret."

Natasha blushed at the words, probably feeling guilty for even considering it. But there was something in my pleading eyes and mannerisms that made her want to fulfill my wish. 

"Okay, Vishal, You may have this dance," she gives her consent.

[OLDWINE]

Rocky is 2/3 rd fortunate. He got a head-turner bike, and he also got a lovely girlfriend, but the problem is he needs more money to fill his bike with petrol.


He is a 3rd-year college student, and the pocket money his Dad gives him isn't adequate to maintain this bike.

He is fortunate to get this bike because of his cousin's misfortune. The bike originally belonged to his cousin, and during this year's Diwali, his cousin was drunk driving on the highway. 

Result? His cousin ended up with a missing collarbone and two broken legs. Rocky's aunt, his cousin's mother, wanted to burn that cursed bike, but Rocky acquired it with much begging and without spending a zero dime. 

Today is one of the days when 1/3 rd of his luck is laughing at him. Rocky went to the mall with his girlfriend, and after dropping her off at her friend's house, on his way home, his bike was out of petrol.

 He is currently pushing the heavy bike down the road. His body is soaking in sweat. He cursed his luck as his house was just a few kilometers away.

From behind, he hears a nasty laugh.

"Heh heh heh...heh." 

Rocky turns his head, keeping his hands in position to steady the bike.

Pritam bhaiya. The last person he wanted to encounter. Pritam lives in his neighborhood. Rocky knows Pritam bhaiya feels that giving this bike to Rocky is like garlanding a monkey with a pearl necklace. 

"Petrol ...tata bye bye?" Pritam mocks him.

Rocky feels embarrassed as Pritam bhaiya teases him on the street.

He smiles faintly, "Yeah, I did not notice it was running on reserve."

"With all those indicators ,you didn't notice?" Pritam taunts him further," You got the elephant but does not have the resources to feed it."

Pritam laughs loudly and cruises past Rocky on his bike.

Rocky's ears were getting warm; he was already frustrated while pushing this heavy bike, and on top of that, the taunting from Pritam bhaiya just made him furious. Rocky feared that if Pritam bhaiya did not leave, he was gonna take a swing at him with his fists.

"Damn why the fuck is he coming back?" Rocky rolls his eyes.

Pritam stops his bike in front of him, and this time, he isn't as loud as earlier;

Pritam is almost whispering," Do you want to do some side hustle for some extra money?"

Rocky does not get the secrecy. Pritam is asking as if he is proposing  Rocky to peddle drugs for him.

But Rocky is desperate. He feels alive when he flies around on this bike, and this bike needs its lifeline.

So he bites, "What's the job?"

Pritam clears their throat, "You know the middle-aged man who was diagnosed with Alzheimer's?"

Rocky is aware of Vishal Gupta and his situation. He saw him wandering in the streets. Apparently, he had forgotten where he lived.

"Yes. What about him?" Rocky asks.

"Well, he lives alone, and it is dangerous for him to go out and do the necessary chores."Pritam implies.

"You want me to be his errand boy?" Rocky insinuates. Not the worst of the jobs. 

"Yes. You know, booking a gas cylinder, paying electric bills,internet bill,taking care of his garden, bringing groceries,filling his medicine, etc....With his health condition,he can't do those things which can easily be done online. Your Natasha bhabi takes care of his medication.She can get you the job if you want."

Rocky thinks the job has immense possibilities. Vishal uncle forgets things. I can charge him twice or even thrice for the same job. He chuckles inside.
"Sure, why not?" Rocky concurs without thinking any further. It is easy money.

"Great. Meet with your Natasha bhabhi in the morning." Pritam dictates, and he does not wait any longer.

Rocky notices that before leaving, Pritam looks around like he is committing a robbery.

Pritam wants Vishal Gupta to be utterly dependent upon the people he handpicked.

Rocky thinks if this arrangement works out, then he will be a completely lucky young man -3/3.

[OLDWINE]

THAT NIGHT


While lying on the bed after dinner, Natasha reminisces about the awkward evening she spent with Mr. Gupta. She desperately tried to convince herself that she was only entertaining an ailing man, nothing more, but in her heart of hearts, she knew that their dancing had become a little too intimate and intense at one point.

Natasha recalls:

Vishal shrugged nonchalantly, 'Well, I may have Alzheimer's, but I still appreciate a beautiful woman."

Natasha raised an eyebrow, 'Is that so? Well, in that case, maybe we can have a little fun. After all, you won't remember any of it tomorrow."

They were swaying together in the center of the room, dancing to the soft music playing in the background. Vishal's hands were roaming all over Natasha's body, sending shivers down her spine. She couldn't believe what was happening, but she didn't want it to stop.

As they danced, Vishal's hands found their way to Natasha's naked waist. And with a swift move, he pulled her closer to him. Natasha gasped at the sudden intrusion, and her cheeks turned a deeper shade of red.
 He whispered compliments in her ear, making her heart beat faster. Natasha was lost in the moment.



"Why don't you admit that you care for her more than me?" Pritam yells before slamming the bedroom door behind him.

Natasha was so lost in her thoughts that she did not notice that her husband and in-laws were having an altercation outside.

Pritam's brutish entry brings Natasha to the earthly realm.

"What happened?" Natasha asks.

"My Sister happened...she is cunning as ever .I knew things were going to be like this." Pritam pours his frustration into Natasha's ears.

Natasha knows her Sister-in-Law isn't a housewife like herself; she works at a private firm.

"What about Riya didi?" Natasha asks again, confused still.

"Riya had her child last year, a lovely little boy, but she does not want to quit her job, nor does she want to pay for a nanny. She wants my mom to take care of her kid while she is at the office. And my dad goes wherever my mom goes. This has been her plan all along,using our parents to raise her child. Tomorrow my Mumma and Papa are leaving for Banglore. Shitt !! " Pritam is writhing with anger.

Natasha understands the deal. Both Brother and Sister want their parents to raise their child. Pritam fears when he and Natasha will have their first baby, his parents will still be taking care of his Sister's kid in another city.

"Can I do something?" Natasha asks.

"No. Don't get between us siblings. It is done. Mom & Dad leaving for Riya's house." Pritam groans.

Suddenly, he changes the subject," Did that old mule say something about the property?"

Natasha gets Pritam referring to Mr.Gupta. That brings an unwanted blush to her cheeks. After that awkwardly intimate dance, Natasha did not have the guts to stay much longer in Mr.Gupta's house. 

"No.. his memory is sometimes there and sometimes isn't. I think.." Natasha lies.

Pritam cuts her off, "We should stop thinking and start acting. It would not take long for Mr.Gupta's relatives to come sniffing here for his property. The man has no children. We need to settle the dispute before his relatives get a whiff of his disease."

Natasha is perplexed; she is bamboozled by flurries of information right now.

"So?" She asks.

"Look, Since Mom & Dad are going away, obviously, you will be busy with our house chores more than ever. That means ignoring Mr. Gupta's needs. So I have found a solution. You remember Rocky?" Pritam is talking very fast at this point.

"Rocky who?" Natasha frowns.

"That loafer-type college boy who lives at the corner of the street." Pritam contorts his face.

"I don't know. Maybe I know him by face, but the name or description rings no bells." Natasha is being honest.

"Arey... the oversmart guy who was flirting with your cousin Priya all night during our wedding day." Pritam is annoyed.

"Priya flirts with lots of boys. I can't remember all of them."Natasha giggles.

"Oh gosh...Well whatever..You will meet Rocky tomorrow morning anyway." Pritam draws a closure.

"Why?" Natasha furrows her eyebrows.

"I want Rocky to work as Mr.gupta's errand boy. Since you will be more busy with our house chores,Mr.gupta would need someone else. I want to make sure that Mr.Gupta knows that our family is helping him out by employing Rocky. I want that stubborn Mr.Gupta to be completely dependent upon us to the point that he gets pleased and drops the property case." Pritam confides with his wife.

"My God, Pritam, You should have mentioned these when Panditji was arranging our marriage. Offf.. so complicated." Natasha glares, pressing her forehead.

[OLDWINE]

NEXT MORNING

Natasha does meet Rocky in the morning, as Pritam said that they would.


Her father-in-law has pulled out the family car from the garage. Soon, they will leave for the airport.

Natasha witnesses a 22-24-year-old boy standing against the car and taking selfies. He can't see her from his position. Natasha assumes this animal is named Rocky. The boy is a brand freak. He is wearing a North Face jogger, a Nike sneakers and a French connection t-shirt with FCUK written on the chest.

"What are you doing?" Natasha embraces herself before calling out.
As soon as Rocky turns towards her, she does recall seeing him at her wedding.

"For the GRAM Natasha Bhabi. Gotta show my lifestyle." Rocky grins.

"I see." Natasha wants to roll her eyes.

Rocky's grin broadens, "Insta is life." he scrutinizes Natasha from head to toe, "Ummmm, with your features, you can easily garner 20-30k followers and if you do some bo..."

Natasha interrupts him, pressing her lips and forming a caricature smile, "I know how Instagram works. Let's do what you are here for."

Rocky looks at himself in the wing mirror of the car and smiles at his reflection smugly while speaking, "Oh yeah about that...hey, since you are on Insta, can you please follow me? I badly need more followers. I swear I will follow you back." 

"Let's gooo." Natasha hurries him up while coming closer and ruffles his hair.
"Heyyyy don't touch the hair...it cost me a lot to get this cut." Rocky whines.
"You are bad liar.Don't lie in front of Mr.Gupta." Natasha warns him.

Coming after Natasha, Rocky explains, "Oh,again you don't believe me? This is a special cut. The trick is to make everyone believe that you don't care much about your hair, yet your hair looks perfect..careless beauty."

"Oh Gosh you are worse than a Diva.Stand outside and come when I call you." Natasha instructs Rocky after reaching Mr.Gupta's house.
Rocky obliges.

Natasha first needs to gauge Mr Gupta's current mental state before introducing Rocky to Mr Gupta. She isn't sure in which state Mr Gupta is today.

"Good morning, Mr.Gupta." Natasha's voice cracks while speaking, remembering last evening's dance.

But Mr.Gupta shows no sign of hesitancy.

He smiles at her as if last evening never happened, "Oh Natasha, how many times have I told you to call me Vishal? No need for that nonsense formality."

Natasha smiles awkwardly, "Old Habit, Vishal..that's all.".She is having a hard time making eye contact. The guilt and embarrassment coursing through her.

Natasha brings Mr.Gupta his medications.

After taking that, Vishal's voice becomes dramatic, "You would not believe Natasha...last night, I had the most wonderful dream."

"Yeah.." Natasha wants Vishal to meet Rocky as soon as possible.

"Come sit..sit..I will tell you all about it." Vishal beckons her.

Natasha sits beside him, and she fidgets instantly.

"I dreamt that I was having a delightful dance with this gorgeous woman. Oh, what a beauty she was !! She had a figure to die for," Vishal closes his eyes in joy.

Natasha gulps hard.

Vishal continues, "She was wearing a red chiffon saree, and she looked absolutely divine . She giggled at my every words. I am telling you Natasha I felt like a young man...She blushed so hard when I touched her..She liked the way I was dancing with her."

Natasha's head is spinning. 

She ponders: Mr.Gupta thinks that our dance didn't happen in real? It is all a dream to him.

She is feeling genuinely relieved. Her clenched fists unfasten as she feels relaxed as if she got away with a crime.

Vishal sensed that the dance made Natasha feel awkward; maybe he took it too far and made her skittish. So he had to concoct this fake drama to assure her that he had forgotten all about it. Not a soul, but only Natasha herself has the real memory of yesterday's evening.

"Sounds like you have a vivid and lovely dream." Natasha smiles.

"Oh dear..it was a raunchy one." Vishal grins.

Natasha blushes hard, knowing all of that happened in real.

"Vishal, my in-laws are going away to see their daughter. I would not be around much." Natasha wanted to close that discussion, but she was feeling uneasy.

Vishal's face hardens, "That's not a good news. You know I love your company.. I cherish the time we spend together.", he laments.

Natasha shares his sadness, "No, no,I will come and visit you, just I will not be as available as I was before...But don't worry, I made an arrangement so that you don't feel discomfort."

Vishal looks puzzled, "What is that?"

"Rocky come inside." Natasha yells.

Rocky enters the room looking as decent as possible.

"Vishal you know Rocky? He lives in our neighbourhood." Natasha treats Vishal like a fragile patient in front of Rocky.

Of course, Vishal knows Rocky; he knows everyone here.

He actually likes Rocky. The boy knows how to live his life to the fullest; he enjoys life. Rocky reminds Vishal of his own younger self. In fact, that carefree living leads Vishal to this stage of life.

Vishal nods," Oh, I know him..but what..."

Natasha fills in, "He is going to help you around with your chores from now on when I am not available."

"I don't need any help.I am perfectly able." Vishal feigns anger.

Natasha touches his arm and politely negotiates, "Please, Vishal, be reasonable..."

The back-and-forth argument went on. Rocky remains a silent spectator.

Finally, Vishal tells Rocky, "Wait outside."

Rocky leaves.

Vishal turned towards Natasha, "If you stop visiting me, then I will fire that boy. Deal?"

Natasha agrees, "Alrighty. Deal."

Vishal can sense Natasha isn't making this arrangement; she is working on behalf of her husband, Pritam. Since her in-laws are leaving, Vishal suspects it is her husband who is trying to take control of his life from behind the scenes to get that piece of property.

[OLDWINE]

Natasha had to leave to see off her in-laws.


Mr.Gupta is left with Rocky.

Mr.Gupta does not know what to do with this college boy. He does not really need Rocky's help.

Neither Rocky understands what exactly he is being employed for.

"Ermmm, do you need help with something, Vishal uncle?" Rocky breaks the ice; he hates silence.

"Can you cook?" Mr.Gupta asks.

"Ummm...no." Rocky replies promptly. He isn't gonna earn his pocket money as a cook; all his clothes gonna get dirty.

"Then you are worthless to me." Mr.Gupta snorts.

Rocky doesn't mind Mr.Gupta's attitude; he is a sick man.

Rocky stays silent for a while, then speaks, "You don't actually have to cook."

"What?" Mr.Gupta grunts.

"Hear me out, Vishal Uncle." Rocky comes closer. He isn't as compassionate as Natasha is, so he doesn't really understand what he should or shouldn't say to an Alzheimer's patient.

"Look, Vishal uncle, everyone knows that you are sick. There are more than 30 families living here. Why don't you call each family per day and ask them to prepare the meal for you? You could tell them that you are feeling unwell. Imagine that... 30 days ,30 families...your whole month is covered without spending any money or effort. How's my idea, huh?" Rocky eagerly looked at Mr.Vishal.


Vishal laughs loudly for an entire minute, hearing that crazy idea.

"You are a silly silly boy."

But it did give Vishal an idea: since Natasha's in-laws aren't around and her hubby would be busy with business, he can ask Natasha to cook at his place.

"You can go now." Vishal waves his hand, "Wait, give me your cell number." 

Rocky utters his mobile number, and then mustering courage, he asks, "Uncle, can you give me some advance for the job? My fuel tank is empty."

Mr.Gupta would have said no, but since Rocky's crazy proposal gave him the idea of calling Natasha to cook in his house, Mr.Gupta is pleased with Rocky.

He opens his wallet and hands him some money.

Rocky smiles broadly, 'Thank you, uncle," and leaves.

Mr.Gupta peeks through the window and waits for Natasha's in-laws & husband to leave.

Then he calls her.

"Hello Natasha..why don't you cook at my place?" He proposes

"No..no no issuses..we can talk and cook together.You know how much I am fond of your company."

"Haha...Your husband would be glad, I think, since you are saving his cooking expenses."

After 10 minutes or so, Natasha comes to Mr.Gupta's house wearing a normal cotton saree and sleeveless blouse; her long black hair is tied up in a neat bun, and the delicate gold bangles on her wrists clink together as she moves. She has a tiffin carrier in her hand.

Vishal shows her the kitchen.

At first, Vishal thought he would stay away from her and not interrupt her.

But Vishal could not stay away much longer. He eventually offers his help after watching her body in motion from afar,

"Hey,' Vishal says peeking inside the kitchen , his eyes scanning her body,"I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

"Not at all," Natasha replies, a sultry smile playing on her lips, "I could use some help in the kitchen."

Without waiting for his response, she turned and walked back to the stove, swaying her hips. 

Vishal followed her, his gaze glued to her backside.

"So, what are you cooking?" he asks, trying to regain his composure.

"Butter paneer," she replies, leaning against the counter and crossing her arms in front of her chest, pushing her ample cleavage up,"But I could use an extra pair of hands."

'Well, you know what they say, "many hands do light work,'' Vishal replies, winking at her.


As always, Vishal is pretending to have Alzheimer's disease, an act that he uses to get away with all sorts of mischief. And today was no exception. As he chopped vegetables, he would often turn to Natasha and ask her the same question over and over again.

"What are we making?" he asked, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

Natasha rolled her eyes playfully, "Butter Paneer, Vishal. You've asked me that ten times already."

Vishal grinned, leaning in closer to her, "I have? I must be losing my mind. But I can't help it, Natasha. You look beautiful in saree.'

A blush rose to Natasha's cheeks as she tried to focus on cooking. She knew she shouldn't entertain Vishal's flirtatious comments, especially as a married woman. But there was something about the way he said them, with such boldness and confidence, that made her heart race.

She felt similar tension between them yesterday evening.

"You know, Vishal, you should be careful with your words," Natasha replied coyly as she stirred the curry.

"Did I ever see you in saree before?" Vishal pretends that he doesn't remember about last evening.

Natasha darts her eyes while speaking,"I don't think so. You haven't."

There was a silence between them.

 Mr.Gupta decides to keep his distance away after that; he does not want to creep her out on her first day of cooking at his house. He wants to see this sight more often, and for that, he wants her to feel comfortable. After all, she almost left in a hurry last evening after their sensual dance.

Mr. Gupta turns on the TV and pretends to watch it while the majority of his attention is on Natasha. From where Vishal is sitting, he can see Natasha's whole appearance in the kitchen.

Natasha is aware that Vishal is watching her. Natasha carefully stirs the pot of simmering curry, the steam rising and enveloping her face in its warm embrace.

 Beads of perspiration trickle down her forehead and along her temple, and she wipes them away with the back of her hand. She could feel her saree and petticoat sticking to her skin, and she wished she had chosen something more comfortable to wear. 

But She knows Mr.Gupta likes her in a saree. To her astonishment, she chose to wear a saree at the last moment before coming here.

As she stirs the curry, pearls of sweat form on her brow and slide down her throat, disappearing inside her milky cleavage.

Vishal has been ogling her since he sat down in the drawing room. He can't avert his eyes from her, the way the pallu of her saree is grazing her bare shoulders, and the way the fabric clinging to her body, teasing him with glimpses of her curves.

Natasha is aware of Vishal's intense gaze, but she says nothing. She is getting used to it, having caught him staring at her multiple times before since last evening.

 But today, something about his gaze feels different, almost erotic. She can feel the intensity of his eyes on her, and it is turning her on.

As Natasha continued to cook, she suddenly felt a heat rising within her. She can feel Vishal's eyes raking over her body, and it is exciting her in ways she can't explain.

 She can feel herself becoming more and more aware of her body, the way the sweat is glistening on her skin, and the way her saree is clinging to her every curve.

Without realizing it, Natasha's movements become more sensual as she stirs the curry, her hips swaying to an unknown rhythm. She feels free, unbound by societal expectations, and for the first time, she likes being an object of desire for an older man.

Natasha hummed to herself as she stood in her kitchen; she felt like doing something to distract her mind.

As she continued to cook, she couldn't stop the extra sway she was adding to her hips, a subtle move that she knew would catch Vishal's attention. And it did, as he found himself mesmerized by her sensual movements, unable to look away.

He can't help but focus on her hips, how they move in perfect harmony with the stirring spoon, creating an enticing rhythm. Her ass is round and shapely, the soft curves of it swaying back and forth as she stirs. 

Vishal's gaze followed the swaying movements, his thoughts consumed by the captivating sight.

He couldn't help but imagine himself running his hands over her hips and up to her ass as he continued to watch her in awe.

Natasha's ass was truly a work of art, and she knew how to move it in a way that was both sensual and hypnotic.

She moves towards a  shelf and lifts her arm to reach for a jar of Turmeric powder; her blouse sleeve slides down, revealing her smooth, bare shoulder. She imagines  Vishal's sharp intake of breath as she exposes more of her glistening skin.

From another cabinet, she picks up some jeera, and her blouse rises, offering Vishal a glimpse of her midriff and the lacy edges of her bra.

As she poured the batter of garlic and chili into a pan, she leaned slightly forward, facing Vishal, causing her ample breasts to press against the fabric of her blouse, straining the buttons. She purposely took longer to finish her tasks, giving him more opportunities to ogle her.

She adds some spices to the curry, her hands moving continuously as she stirs, her bangles chiming.

As the aroma of the curry filled the kitchen, Natasha's movements became more intense, the fabric of her saree clinging to her body as she stirred faster. Her ass seems to have a mind of its own, moving effortlessly, drawing Vishal's attention even more.

 The aroma of the curry filled the air, Vishal's mouth water ,his cock stiffens. He couldn't resist the urge to go over and watch her poetic body closely.

"Hey, What brings you here?Bored with the television?" Natasha says with a smirk, trying to sound nonchalant.

Vishal shrugs. "I just thought I'd see if you needed any help with your cooking."

"Nice try, but I don't believe you for a second,' Natasha said, raising an eyebrow.

Vishal chuckles, 'Okay, you caught me. I just wanted to know your secret recipe.it smells delicious.'

Natasha replies. 'It's nothing special; I just threw on whatever I found in your kitchen.'

Vishal moved closer, his hands in his pockets. " it's definitely turning up the heat in the kitchen.'

Natasha couldn't help but giggle at his cheesy line and blushed.

"Want to have a taste?" She offers him a spoonful of gravy.

After several minutes, the lunch was ready, and they started to eat together in the dining area.

Vishal constantly complimented Natasha's cooking skills.

Natasha thought this was an excellent time to discuss the disputed property.

"So you told me other that you will tell me about that space where the Neem tree is." Natasha lies.

Vishal smiles inside cause that's not what he told her. He can see Natasha is trying to take advantage of his apparent sickness.

"I did?" Vishal frowns.

"Yes. You did." Natasha asserts.

Vishal pretends to think for a while.

"Oh now I remember. I did ask you to wear a sexy saree and then I promised to tell you." Vishal plays her.

He pretends to be sad, "But you never wore a sexy saree for me.". Natasha admitted so while cooking.

Natasha gulps hard. Vishal's memory is so unreliable sometimes it is as good as a normal person's, and sometimes it doesn't work - she thinks.

"Will you wear one for me in the evening?" Vishal grins, "Something extra spicy like this butter paneer."

[OLDWINE]

THAT AFTERNOON


Natasha did not give Vishal any definitive answer, and she looked visibly upset while leaving Vishal's place due to the indecent proposal he gave her.


Vishal sat in an empty house thinking: How long am I going to milk the same 'Wear a sexy saree, then I will tell you all about the plot dispute' excuse?

He feels that he needs a new tactic to eroticize the situation between them.
Meanwhile, he intends to capitalize as much as he can.

He calls Rocky, his new errand boy who wants to help him for pocket money.

After 30 minutes, Rocky reaches Vishal's house.

"What's up, Mr.Gupta?" Rocky asks.

Vishal does not know how to say it, but he says it anyway.

"Where do you young people buy your ethnic party dresses nowadays? You know something hip and racy?"

He asks, feeling embarrassed and out of touch regarding the current fashion squares in the city.

It's been a while since Vishal gifted something trendy and sexy to a woman.

Rocky scratches his head, "What exactly are you looking for?"

Vishal shows him some pics of a" backless blouse and low hip sarees."

Rocky gives him a sly grin, "Oh, those !!!..." Rocky knows exactly where to buy those; he spent several hours before V-day with his girlfriend in many shops.

"You know the place?" Vishal asks.

"Yes," Rocky replies.

While Rocky drives Vishal to the shop on his bike, he can't help but ask Vishal.

 "You got a girlfriend,Mr.Gupta?". He knows that Mr.Gupta isn't married.

"Yes. She is coming from Delhi." Vishal lies.

Rocky suddenly remembers that Mr.Gupta has Alzheimer's.

He laughs inside, thinking: is that girlfriend imaginary or real? Who cares? 

At least I am getting paid. What does it matter to me if Mr.Gupta got a Sugar Baby or not?

After reaching the place, Vishal instructs Rocky to come back when he calls him. Vishal does not want him to see what he is buying.

But out of curiosity and concern, Rocky stayed nearby. After all, Mr. Gupta is mentally unwell.

So he gets to see what Mr.Gupta bought - a transparent yellow saree, a skimpy blouse, and a pair of black lingerie.

They returned around 4 pm.

After Rocky departs, Vishal leaves the gift-wrapped dress set with a note at Natasha's place.

The note says: If you want answers about the property, wear only these.
Vishal already knew nobody was in Natasha's house except her. He rings the bell and quickly comes to his place.

Vishal isn't afraid. He knows that he has the perfect excuse for all that he has Alzheimer's disease. If anything goes wrong, he can always take the help of memory loss.

[OLDWINE]

THAT EVENING


Natasha can feel her heart pounding against her chest as she holds the package in her hands. She had never received anything like this before. The familiar handwriting on the attached note sent shivers down her spine. 

Her mind raced with thoughts, and her palms grew damp as she carefully opened the package. A delicate transparent yellow saree, a skimpy backless sleeveless blouse, and a pair of black lingerie greeted her, sending a rush of heat through her body. 

Her eyes widened at the sight of them, her heart thudding in her chest. She is surprised that Mr.Gupta even got her measurements right.

She suspects that Mr.Gupta sent her these as soon as possible before he forgot about their conversation in the afternoon. Even with such reasons, this is a highly bold step taken by Mr.Gupta.

Natasha's mind was flooded with mixed emotions. She is a married woman, but Vishal's note and the alluring garments in front of her entice her with the possibility of an exciting time she could have with an older, experienced man than her husband and could make her forget the responsibilities of her new married life for a while.

She knew that Vishal was attracted to her, and it was no secret that he had been flirtatious with her occasionally when he is mentally stable.

 Natasha tried to maintain a cordial relationship with him, but she feels that last evening, she crossed a line while feeling pitiful about Mr.Gupta's condition when she danced with him.

On one hand, her marriage, and on the other, Vishal's attention has forbidden promises. She can't just throw it all away for whimsical passion. However, Vishal's bold actions and the provocative garments in her hand left her in a dilemma.

Natasha's mind is in a whirl as she tries to decide what to do. She knows deep down that going to Vishal's house wearing these would be crossing a line, but the thought of experiencing something new and exhilarating is tempting. She tries to push away the image of herself dressed in the seductive saree and lingerie, but it lingers in her mind, fueling her desire.

But the thought of going to his house in them filled her with a sense of guilt as if she was being unfaithful to her husband.

Then she convinces herself: I am not really going to cheat on  Pritam. I only want Vishal to start talking about the disputed property. That's all.
I had to wear a chiffon saree at his request yesterday already. What harm would it do if I wore a different one for another day? It's not like I am going to have sex with him.

As the evening draws closer, the temptation of experiencing something different, something forbidden, fills her mind with excuse after excuse.

 Eventually, arousal floods her body at the thought of what Vishal has planned for her.

At one point, without hesitation, she slides into the black lingerie; it is as if she is stepping into an alter-ego. Her inhibitions melt away, and her desires take over. 

She is no longer the good housewife next door but a woman unleashed, ready to indulge in the fantasy of  younger woman-older man dynamic.

Natasha slipped into the low-hip saree, taking her time to dbang it perfectly over her body. The sheer fabric caressed her skin. 

She then slipped into the backless blouse, her fingers tracing the delicate fabric as she fastened it behind her back. The sight of her exposed back in the mirror made her gasp, the naughtiness of it all creating a heat between her thighs.


Natasha stands in front of the full-length mirror, admiring her reflection. She couldn't help but feel embarrassed and enticed at the sight of herself in the slutty, sleeveless backless blouse and low-hip saree Vishal had chosen for the evening.

Her blouse hugged her ample breasts, pushing them up and giving her a delicious cleavage. Her back is bare, the thin straps of the blouse barely holding it in place, leaving the rest of her smooth skin exposed. 

The fabric of her saree is a soft, silky material that clung to her curves, emphasizing her round hips. 

The pallu hung low on her hips, teasing a glimpse of her thong and the curve of her ass. She couldn't help but run her hands down her sides, feeling the heat of her own skin and reveling in the way her body looked.

As she turns to the side, the low cut of her blouse reveals a tantalizing amount of sideboob, drawing attention to her hourglass figure. Her saree dbangd low at the back, leaving her smooth, toned back exposed.

The backless blouse revealed the delicate curve of her spine, leading down to the barely there fabric of her saree, which sat low on her hips. 

Like yesterday, she wraps a shawl around her body to hide herself before leaving her house through the back door to reach Mr.Gupta's house.

With her heart racing and her body trembling with anticipation, Natasha made her way to Vishal's house. As she reached his doorstep, she could feel her pulse pounding in her ears.

 *******************************************************************************************************************************************
After leaving Mr.Gupta's place, Rocky went to see his friends.

At some point, someone noticed a jute bag hanging from his bike.

"Dude, since when did you become so conscious about the environment?" One of his friends points towards the eco-friendly jute bag.

Rocky immediately remembers that it is Mr.Gupta's.

He decided that he would return it when he would reach their locality.

When he arrives at  Mr.Gupta's house, he notices a shawl-wrapped feminine figure disappear into Mr.Gupta's house coming out from Pritam Bhaiya's house.

The distance between the houses  is very short, and even in low light, Rocky recognizes that silhouette. 

It was definitely Natasha Bhabi, but what shocked him the most was the yellow saree she was wearing beneath that shawl. In a split second, Rocky did not make any mistake in identifying that it was the same saree Mr.Gupta bought in the afternoon.

Rocky is dumbfounded as he knows what else Mr.Gupta has bought along with that saree.

[OLDWINE]

THE EVENING CONTINUES


Vishal was impatiently waiting and constantly checking the backyard of Natasha's house through his window.

When he saw Natasha coming out of her house and noticed the transparent yellow saree he bought for her, a dirty smile sprawled across his face.

Vishal concludes:  If Natasha is wearing that saree, that only means three things. 1. Either she is desperate for that disputed piece of land, or 2. I got a lovely thrill-seeker as my new neighbor or 3. The reason could be something in between those two other options.

Vishal intends to find out which one motivated Natasha besides having some fun with her this evening.

As Natasha made her way to Vishal's door, she pulled the shawl tighter around her body. 
It was meant to cover up her scandalous outfit, but she couldn't help feeling exposed. Taking a deep breath, he prepares herself for what is to come as she knocks on Vishal's backdoor.

Vishal immediately opens the door, letting her in with a sly grin on his face. 
"Natasha, I am glad that you have accepted my gift...all of my gifts, I suppose," he teases her, eager to see what else is under that shawl.

She blushes, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. "Thank you, Vishal. I'm not sure about this outfit, though..." she trails off, feeling self-conscious.

"Nonsense, you look beautiful in anything.,' Vishal says, moving closer to her. Natasha stiffens.

"Do you mind if I take off your shawl, Natasha?" Vishal asks, gesturing towards the fabric covering her body.

Natasha hesitates for a moment, feeling a mix of nervousness and excitement. But the look in Vishal's eyes was enough to convince her. 

Slowly, she nods her head, and Vishal reaches over to untie the shawl from her shoulders and moves behind her to pull the shawl away unhurriedly, revealing Natasha's barely-there ensemble.

 She bit her lip, trying to suppress a shiver at his touch. Vishal's hands brushed against her back as he tossed the shawl aside, causing her skin to tingle.


As the fabric fell to the ground, Vishal let out an appreciative whistle. "Damn, Natasha, you are a work of art," Vishal says, his voice dropping to a husky tone.

Natasha's cheeks flushed with a mix of arousal and embarrassment. She had never thought of herself flaunting her body to a middle-aged man, but for some reason, she couldn't resist that temptation. 


"Tell me, Natasha," Vishal's voice rumbles, his lips brushing against her ear. "Do you know why I invited you here this evening?"

"Yes...to talk about the property,' Natasha breathed, her mind too clouded with a desire to think straight; Vishal's hands were gripping her bare shoulders. She thinks this man does not have a grip on his memory, but his fingers are just the opposite.

"That's right, but truth begets truth. Who exactly told you to ask me about that disputed area?" Vishal murmurs in her ears, running a single finger along her naked spine, and Natasha closes her eyes, letting out a soft sigh as his touch sends waves of pleasure coursing through her entire body.

"Does it matter?" Natasha finds her throat dry as his hand reaches the back of her neck, his fingers tangling in her hair.

 She found herself leaning into his touch, unable to resist the pull he had over her.

"It matters a great deal to me," Vishal growls in her ears and lightly pulls her hair. Natasha's breath hitched.

He had always been kind to Natasha, but now she could sense something darker lurking beneath the surface.

That authoritative growl and that light hair pulling by an older man sent a rush of heat straight to her core, and Natasha could feel her panties getting wet from it.

Natasha mewls, "My husband."

Vishal's mouth forms a smile as he gently pulls her hair downwards, causing her to tilt her face upwards while he stands behind her, towering over her.

From this angle, he can see her heaving half-exposed breasts in her skimpy blouse.

"Such a dutiful, obedient wife..doing her husband's bidding." He mocks her, looking into her dilated eyes from above.

Natasha blushes hard and protests, "Don't be mean to me."

While holding her hair, Vishal's other hand swiftly unhooks the strap of her blouse, and he teases her, "Does the husband know that you are here in this dress?"

Natasha bends her elbow and arrests his mischievous hand.

"Don't." She pleads.

Vishal grins," I told you I want to see you in a saree. I said nothing about a blouse, and you promised to keep things spicy.If you recall our deal."

Natasha's grip falters, and Vishal peels off the blouse from her body, leaving her perky tits in the mercy of a tiny black lingerie underneath the transparent yellow saree.

"You did not answer my question.Does your husband know that you are here in this dress?" Vishal taunts her again; his hand grabs her naked waist and puts her voluminous ass on his crotch.

Natasha blushes, feeling his hardness on her soft ass.

Vishal rolls his hips feeling Natasha's ass with his manhood, and teases her again, "So does he know?"

Natasha's face boils in shame as another man forces her to talk about her husband while pressing his raging desire on her ass globes; the shame of red from her face travels as far as her cleavage.

She replies faintly, "No."

"Are you that adamant to know about the property dispute?" Vishal enquires, keeping her head and ass in its place for his convenience.

"Yes." Natahsa lies.

Vishal pushes her to a nearby window, which opens towards the backside of his house, and points towards the NEEM tree," So eager to know about that piece of land, huh."

Natasha gulps. She can see her house from here. Her house is blocking the entire view.

Vishal lets her hair go, and her hands rest on the strap of her bra.

"Tell me, my lovely neighbor, if your husband were present in your house, can he see your beautiful naked breasts from there." while talking, with a swift motion, Vishal unclasps her bra.

Natasha gasps hard in sudden bewilderment, "Heyyy..."

Vishal's both hands are already under her saree, grabbing her opulent tits, and he whispers in her ears, "You were only allowed in saree, my lovely neighbor...nothing else."

Natasha wiggles and whines, "But...."

Vishal can see her high-waisted black thong peeking from her dangerously low-hip saree.

Vishal's hands slid down her body, stopping at her hips, his eyes lingering on the thong. He hooks his fingers under the waistband of her thong and pulls it up, causing it to ride higher above her saree.

The feeling of fabric sliding against her pussy lips sent shivers down Natasha's spine. 
She can't help but let out a soft moan, 'Ahhhh," as Vishal continues to tease her, pulling the thong up and down, alternating between gentle tugs and firm pulls.

"Vishal,' Natasha breathes, her hands gripping onto his arms for support and her ass rubbing on his thighs on its own.

 Every time he tugged on the thong, it sent a jolt of pleasure through her body. She could feel herself getting more and more turned on with each pull.
"Yes dear ..what were you saying again earlier?" Vishal teases her, enjoying Natasha's helpless condition.

Natasha's hands don't restrict Vishal from touching her breasts anymore.
 
Vishal swats her pallu from her shoulder, completely baring her breasts in front of his window, and begins to caress one of her firm melons while teasing her pussy with her thong. Natasha writhes against Vishal's body.

Vishal coquettishly asks her," You did not answer me Natasha. If your husband were in the house,could he see you now?"

With one hand still tugging on her thong, Vishal cups her breast. He kneads her tit gently, teasing her hardened nipple with his thumb.
 
Natasha let out a low moan, arching her back to get closer to Vishal's touch. Sensing her need, Vishal sensually squeezes her entire breast.

Her thong, now tucked neatly between her legs, Natasha could feel the fabric rubbing against her sensitive folds, heightening her arousal. 

She could feel herself getting wetter as Vishal continued to pull on the thong, creating delicious friction against her clit.

Natasha bites her lower lips to stop herself from moaning.

Vishal mischievously thrusts his bulging cock into her ass crack and trifles with her playfully, "Oh, don't hold back your moans...You forget that I will not remember all of these tomorrow or the day after...I am an Alzheimer's patient." He feigns sadness at the end, maintaining his facade.

Natasha daggers at him with the corner of her eyes in response, but that assurance does loosen her up, and She opens her lips to moan freely.

"That's right ...enjoy yourself...let yourself go...." Vishal's voice sounds wild as his hand makes her breasts swollen with pleasure, heavy and full of sweet anticipation.

"Ahhhh...ooffff...ohhh goood...." Natasha shudders in ecstasy.

Natasha's head spun as Vishal's rubs her thong on her clit, igniting a fire within her. She is entirely at his mercy, surrendering to the intense pleasure he is giving her. With every pull of her thong, her desire grew, and she couldn't help but grind her ass provocatively on his snarling cock.

Natasha whines, "Ahhh... why are....ohhhh.. you doing this?"

 Vishal slides his fingers underneath her low-hip saree, tracing small circles on her thong, teasing her sensitive skin. 

The fabric of her thong is now damp with excitement, and Vishal can feel the heat between her legs. 

Without stripping her thong, he gently pushes aside the fabric and teases her clit with his fingers, making Natasha squirm in pleasure, "Ummmmphh..."

"Your husband started playing a nasty game with me, but He forgot that in order to participate in a game meant for men, one must be willing to pay the price expected of a man. A Man's game demands a Man's price.And this is the price.Cummmm." Vishal grits his teeth in determination and commands her.

Before Natasha can grasp the gravity of his answer, Vishal does not waste any time, his fingers diving into her folds, playing with her swollen clit. 

Natasha's hips buck in response, her moans growing louder as Vishal toys with her. His thumb rubs against her sensitive nub, causing her to writhe in pleasure.

As Vishal continues to tease her pussy, his other hand doesn't stop its ministrations on her breasts, squeezing and playing with them, sending waves of pleasure through Natasha's body. 
She is lost in the moment, her body and mind wholly consumed by Vishal's touch.

Their little game of teasing and pleasuring continued for what felt like an eternity for Natasha until she couldn't take it anymore and burst into a knee-shaking climax, taking his name, "Oh gowwdd vishalll...uuuuuu...."

Vishal doesn't stop rubbing her pulsating clit and drenched folds.

He toys with her," My oh my, you were that tensed, huh !!! So much pent-up frustration. No wonder you were so salty after you came back from the honeymoon...Hubby doesn't understand what kind of stimulation you want, does he?"

Natasha is in the middle of her orgasm when she hears her middle-aged neighbor mocking her husband and is surprised that an Alzheimer's patient remembers that She snapped at Vishal after coming back from her honeymoon.

"Please don't...ooooo...talk about my...ooooo husba..." Her speech derails.

"Speaking of husband. Doesn't the lovely wifey have to prepare dinner for her dear hubby?" Vishal pinches her nipple before pulling it.

"Ahhhhh...yes. "Natasha agrees, moaning.

"You can prepare dinner here." Vishal chuckles and presses her naked tits against the window, pushing her back; with the other hand, he lifts her saree and drags her thong off her thighs with a jerk stressing his words, "Just saree, nothing else." he robs her off her thong.

Natasha is huffing against the window, creating foggy glass.

Vishal lightly spanks her naked ass, "Ummm thick."

"Ahhh' Natasha moans in pleasure.

Vishal gives her other ass globe a hard smack making her groan, "Oh yeah bubbly." and let go of her saree.

Immediately he grabs her by her tits, mauling them in his palm, "You think you can cook dinner here?" he smirks.

Natasha can not even move and, closing her eyes, enjoys the fondling of her breasts shamelessly.

"Don't think so. You need to go home. Your hubby will come soon.Go make dinner for him." He pulls her nipples hard to make her yelp.

"Ahaaann.." Natasha groans, and Vishal lets her go with a loud slap on her bubbly ass, enjoying the bounce.

Natasha moves away with shaky legs without noticing Vishal is holding the end of her pallu.

By the time she notices that he is already pulling it from her body.

Vishal makes her completely naked without much effort and grins, "You are hot...very hot..now go home."

Natasha could not believe this. She stammers in deep shame and shock," Like this?" She is still unsettled.

Vishal comes closer to her and grabs her by her pussy, "Ummmm so wett.." He rubs it vigorously, looking into her helpless eyes, making her folds make a wet sound as she clutches onto his arms, spreading her thighs while moaning softly, parting her lips.

 "You need a good fuck.. hope your husband is man enough for it.", Vishal smirks and pushes her towards the backdoor.

"You serious?" Natasha exclaims. Aroused, frustrated, and having mixed feelings about the way he is treating her. Moreover, the present Avatar of Vishal is entirely different from the one she converses with every day. That Alzhimer's patient, fragile Vishal, has been replaced by this confident and daring Vishal.

Vishal grabs one of her tits and takes a chunk of her ass flesh in his other hand while speaking, "Trust me, you will love going to your home like this.. the distance is only 6 ft or so."

Natasha still could not believe this was happening to her. 

Vishal opens the lock and pushes one finger inside her palpating pussy, and her slit immediately squeezes around his finger, "Pity..so wet..so aroused" he rolls his finger, making Natasha tremble and moan; she thrusts her pussy onto his invading finger.

Then He gives a firm smack on her luscious butt, making her let out a horny moan, "Offf."

"Good night Natasha." and opens the door, and with another powerful slap on her stinging ass, he makes her move out of his house, enjoying the jiggle of her shapely ass in front of his eyes, and closes the door.

Natasha runs into her house. It took her only two seconds to reach inside the house, crossing her backyard.

***************************************************************

The backside of both  Natasha and Vishal's houses is secluded.

But today, there was one person. He had been hiding there the entire time since he witnessed Natasha moving into Vishal's house wearing that saree. He was utterly curious.

Now, with his jaw slacked open, watching Natasha leave Vishal's house completely naked.

Rocky could not believe his eyes. He had no idea Pritam Bhaiya's newlywed wife was so Kinky. Now he has so many questions.

[OLDWINE]

Whatta sexy updates. This is similar to wifi wifey story.

I wrote that story. I guess the format gave it away. Next time I will not use this First person format 

[OLDWINE]

Superb.
But why did you discontinue your previous story. Are you expecting more views or comments?
Will you ever continue this story or not?

I have written several stories in this site and sadly all of those are incomplete. I loose interest after a while. I don't have what it takes to be a committed writer. That is the truth. Still I write every once in a while if any intriguing idea comes to my mind, cause I feel happy at the beginning while creating a story. After sometime my enthusiasm just dies.