07-02-2025, 01:26 PM
(This post was last modified: 29-03-2025, 07:24 PM by kingqueenjoker. Edited 2 times in total. Edited 2 times in total.)
Alright, sweetie, I've got everything packed," Chandrani called out to her husband, Ashok, from the bedroom of their apartment. She folded her clothes neatly into the suitcase, her eyes lingering on the red lingerie she had picked out for the trip. It was a rare weekend getaway to visit her in-laws in the bustling city, and she wanted to look her best.
Rehan, their son, darted in, his cheeks flushed with excitement. "Mama, can I bring my new video game?"
Chandrani's gaze flicked to the digital clock on the bedside table, noticing it was already past the time they had planned to leave. "Rehan, we're leaving in five minutes. You can take it, but only if you promise to keep it safe and not bother us while we're driving."
As the trio descended the stairs to the car, Chandrani felt the familiar knot of dread in her stomach. The traffic in the city was notorious for its unpredictability, and she had hoped they could avoid it by leaving early. But fate had other plans. As they approached the main road, they were met with a sea of honking horns and unmoving cars. Chandrani sighed and settled into the passenger seat, her son's chatter from the backseat a distant echo amidst her thoughts.
The sweltering heat of the afternoon sun made the metal of the car's exterior feel like it was burning to the touch. The air conditioner whirred ineffectively, the cool air doing little to alleviate the sticky discomfort that clung to them like a second skin. Chandrani looked over at her husband, his knuckles white as he gripped the steering wheel in frustration. His eyes flicked to hers, and she offered a small, reassuring smile.
"We should have left earlier," Ashok grumbled, his gaze darting to the rearview mirror to check on their son.
Chandrani reached over and placed a gentle hand on his thigh. "It's okay, we'll get there eventually."
Her touch had a calming effect on Ashok, and he took a deep breath, trying to push aside his irritation. He glanced at his wife, admiring the way her sari clung to her curvy figure, revealing just enough to make him want more. It had been a while since they had shared anything more than a routine, almost mechanical intimacy, and the thought of spending a weekend away from their daily routine sparked a glimmer of hope in his chest.
As the hours crawled by, the traffic only grew worse.
"This is ridiculous," Ashok muttered, his jaw clenched. "We're going nowhere."
Chandrani nodded in agreement, wiping a bead of sweat from her forehead. "Let's try the metro," she suggested, pointing to the nearby mall with a metro station. "It's faster, and we can park the car here."
Ashok hesitated, the thought of being stuck in this traffic for much longer was too much to bear. He relented but With a sigh of resignation and steered the car into the mall's parking lot, following Chandrani's lead. The cool air of the mall was a welcome reprieve from the stifling heat outside, and the three of them made their way to the metro station. The station was bustling with people, a stark contrast to the quiet car ride they had been in. Chandrani held Rehan's hand tightly as they navigated the crowded platform.
Chandrani was a 40-year-old MILF, a fact that often went unnoticed amidst the chaos of her life as a mother and a wife. Her figure, though slightly softened by the years, was still curvaceous and alluring, a testament to her meticulous care and the genes that had blessed her with a youthful glow. Her long, dark hair was tied in a sleek bun, a few tendrils escaping to frame her face. She had chosen a simple yet elegant blue sari, which complemented the gold jewelry that adorned her neck and wrists. The sleeveless blouse she wore today was a rarity; usually, she preferred the modesty of full-sleeved garments, in front of her in-laws. But today's heat had made it unbearable, and the bareness of her arms felt strange and slightly thrilling against the cool fabric and moreover, she thought they will be travelling in car.
The metro was a crush of humanity, a microcosm of the city's diversity. The scent of various perfumes and deodorants mingled with the faint odor of sweat, creating an intoxicating blend that was uniquely metropolitan. Chandrani felt a shiver run down her spine as the train lurched forward, the bodies around her shifting and pressing closer.
Suddenly, there was a sharp tug at her sari pallu, and she was propelled in the opposite direction of Ashok and Rehan. Her eyes widened in surprise as she was engulfed by the sea of strangers, their hands and limbs brushing against her in the mad rush to find balance. She felt a strange sense of vulnerability, her body exposed to the touch of unknown men and women, their eyes darting over her in the frenetic dance of the crowded train.
Ashok's hand slipped from her shoulder, and she watched in horror as he was pushed back with Rehan into the other side, leaving them separated. Chandrani's heart raced as she searched for any familiar faces, but there were none. She was surrounded by a wall of strangers, their expressions ranging from irritation to amusement at the plight of the separated family.
Her hand shot up to grip the metal rod above, the only thing keeping her upright as the train jolted into motion. In the chaos, the fabric of her blouse shifted, revealing her cleanly shaven armpit. A burly man in his 50s standing in front of her couldn't help but stare, his eyes lingering on the smooth, slightly damp flesh. Chandrani felt a hot blush creep up her neck, her discomfort growing with each second. She tried to adjust her sari, but the press of bodies around her made it impossible. The man's leer grew bolder, and she could feel his gaze roving over her, taking in every inch of her exposed skin.
Across the aisle, Ashok noticed his wife's plight. His heart hammered in his chest as he saw the man ogling her. He felt a strange mix of protectiveness and arousal, his eyes drawn to the sight of his wife's bare skin, something so rarely seen in public. He tugged at Rehan's hand, trying to navigate through the throng of people to reach her, but it was like trying to swim against a tide of humanity.
The burly man's gaze grew more brazen, and Chandrani could feel his eyes roaming over her body, lingering on her armpit and then sliding down to her ample cleavage, which was also dangerously close to being exposed. She felt a rush of embarrassment, but also a strange sense of power. She was an object of desire, even in this crowded, impersonal space. Her breath hitched, and she squeezed the metal rod tighter, her knuckles turning white.
Ashok's heart was racing as he watched the scene unfold. His mind was torn between his duty as a husband and the sudden, primal urge that had taken hold of him. He felt his cock stiffen in his pants as he took in the sight of Chandrani's body, so close yet so far. It had been ages since he had seen her this way, and the vulnerability and desire in her eyes was like a siren's call to him. He was torn between pushing through the crowd to save her from the ogling stranger and letting the moment play out to see where it led.
The train lurched again, and the man's hand accidentally grazed Chandrani's breast. She gasped, her eyes widening with a mix of shock and arousal. The touch was fleeting, but it sent a jolt through her body that was impossible to ignore. She could feel her nipples harden, pressing against the fabric of her blouse. The man's gaze met hers, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. He leaned in closer, the scent of his cologne mingling with the stale air of the metro.
Ashok watched as his wife turned away from the man, her back now facing the lecher. The crowd had shifted, and her bare shoulders and back were on full display. The blouse clung to her damp skin, the fabric almost transparent from the heat.
He couldn't help but feel a twinge of regret for not stopping her from wearing the sleeveless blouse. The way it had shifted was not entirely appropriate, and the thought of his wife being ogled by strangers made him uneasy. However, the sight of her, so close to the brink of being exposed, had a strange effect on him. He felt his cock thicken, his arousal growing despite the situation.
Chandrani felt the man's hot breath on her neck as the train lurched again, and she knew he was taking advantage of her vulnerability. She wanted to scream, to push him away, but the fear of causing a scene in front of their son and the other passengers held her back. Instead, she turned her face towards the man, her eyes flashing with disgust. She hoped that her expression would be enough to make him stop, but he only smirked in response, his eyes roaming over her body with a hunger that made her skin crawl.
Ashok's eyes narrowed as he watched his wife's back. Her blouse was now riding up, revealing the top of her sari blouse and the curve of her back. He felt his chest tighten with a mix of anger and arousal as he imagined the man's hands on her. He wanted to charge through the crowd and rip the bastard away from his wife, but his feet remained rooted to the spot. The sight of her bare skin was driving him wild, and he could feel his cock strain against his pants. He was torn between his duty as a protector and the sudden, unwelcome thrill of seeing his wife desired by another man.
He tried to read Chandrani's body language, the tension in her shoulders and the way she leaned slightly away from the lecher. Was she scared or...? The thought that she might be enjoying it, even just a little, sent a bolt of desire straight to his groin. He pictured the man's hand sliding over her round, firm ass, his cock pressing into her from behind. The image was so vivid in his mind that he could almost feel it himself. His breath grew ragged, his pulse quickening.
Ashok's mind raced with scenarios, each more erotic than the last. He imagined the man's hand slipping under the folds of her sari, caressing her bare skin. Was that a shiver of pleasure that passed over her face, or was it just the cold air from the AC? His cock grew harder, straining against his pants. He clenched his fists, his knuckles white with the effort of not reaching out and joining the unwelcome dance.
For a brief moment, he thought he saw Chandrani's eyes close and her lips part slightly, as if she was savoring the illicit touch. The sight sent a jolt of electricity through him, making his cock throb. He wasn't sure if it was real or a figment of his imagination, a desperate attempt to make sense of his conflicting emotions. Was she really enjoying this unwanted attention, or was she just trying to endure it?
He remembered the countless times he had felt this strange mix of inadequacy and excitement when Chandrani would come home from her work at the NGO, recounting tales of charming politicians and suave bureaucrats who flirted with her shamelessly. Her office was a hotbed of power and sexual tension, and she was the queen bee, her beauty and grace drawing them in like moths to a flame. Each time she shared these stories, his stomach would churn with a mix of jealousy and arousal, picturing her in their arms, her body yielding to their desires.
Those page 3 parties she attended with him in tow, playing the supportive wife while men twice his age ogled her openly, whispering sweet nothings in her ear. It was a dance they both knew well, the game of pretend and the thrill of the chase. She would always come home to him, of course, but the thought of her surrounded by those powerful figures, their eyes hungrily devouring her, made him feel both insecure and oddly excited. He had caught himself fantasizing about walking in on her with another man, the raw passion and desire etched on her face as she succumbed to the temptation. It was a dark, twisted thought, but it brought a twisted smile to his lips nonetheless.
Suddenly, the train jerked to a stop, jolting him back to reality.
Ashok realized with a start that the train had reached their destination station. He had been so lost in his thoughts, in the heated dance of his imagination, that he had almost missed it. He glanced at Chandrani, who was now standing slightly apart from the man, her sari back in place, though the look on her face was one of relief and perhaps a hint of something else.
The doors slid open with a hiss, and the sea of people began to spill out of the train. Chandrani stepped out onto the platform, her eyes searching the crowd for her husband and son. She felt a strange mix of emotions: anger at the man's unwanted advances, embarrassment at her own reaction, and a peculiar sense of excitement that she hadn't felt in years.
Ashok, his heart pounding, pushed his way through the throng, his eyes scanning the faces of the disembarking passengers. He was still not sure what had happened between Chandrani and the thug, but he could see the relief etched on her face as she stepped out of the train. He was torn between his anger at the man's audacity and a strange sense of excitement that had taken root in his gut.
As the crowd thinned, he saw her standing there, her eyes searching the sea of faces. His breath caught in his throat as she spotted him and Rehan. The moment their gazes met, the tension of the past few minutes melted away. He hurried over, scooping his son into his arms and reaching for Chandrani's hand.
"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice thick with worry as he held her tightly. She nodded, her voice lost in the cacophony of the station. His hand moved to her cheek, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear, and she leaned into his touch, drawing comfort from his presence.
The warmth of his hand on her skin was reassuring, and she felt a shiver of relief run through her body. "I'm fine," she managed to murmur, her eyes searching his for any sign of anger or disappointment.
But Ashok's gaze was filled with something else entirely. It was a mix of concern, arousal, and something that looked almost... hungry. Chandrani felt a jolt of confusion, unsure if she had read the situation correctly. The hand that had been resting comfortingly on her cheek now moved down to her neck, his thumb stroking her collarbone lightly. The touch was tender, yet it sent a shiver down her spine.
As they made their way out of the metro and into the bustling streets, Chandrani couldn't shake the feeling that something had shifted between them. The tension was palpable, a silent symphony playing out in the space between their bodies. They arrived at the city home of Ashok's parents, a place steeped in tradition and the expectations of the ideal daughter-in-law role she had so meticulously crafted over the years.
The moment they stepped through the ornate doors, she slipped effortlessly into her public persona. She covered her bare arm with her sari pallu, ensuring that she was the picture of modesty as she greeted her in-laws with a respectful nod and a warm smile. Despite the heat of the day, she had changed into a more traditional outfit: a crimson sari with a covered sleeve blouse that hugged her figure just right, showcasing her curves without revealing too much. She had learned the art of balancing attraction with respect, a skill that had earned her the title of the ideal Gupta bahu.
Ashok's aunt, Savita, beamed as she offered Chandrani her blessings. The older woman's eyes lingered on the pallu, the gesture not lost on her. She nodded approvingly before turning her attention to Rehan, showering him with affection. "Look at how much you've grown," she cooed, ruffling his hair.
Ashok's parents, the ever stoic Mr. and Mrs. Gupta, offered their ashirvad with a nod, their eyes flicking to the covered arm and then to their son. Chandrani felt a strange thrill, knowing that she had managed to maintain the facade of purity and respectability, even in the face of the erotic maelstrom that had just played out on the metro.
The evening passed in a blur of family gatherings and catching up with relatives. It was only when Trisha, Ashok's younger sister, bounced in that the tension between the couple eased slightly.
"Bhabhi!" Trisha squealed, jumping up to embrace Chandrani. Her youthful exuberance was a stark contrast to the stifling formality of the household. Dressed in a short dress that barely covered her long, tanned legs, she was a whirlwind of energy and excitement. "You look absolutely gorgeous!" she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling.
Chandrani felt a warmth spread through her as she hugged her sister-in-law back. She had always been fond of Trisha, who had looked up to her since she had first entered the family. With a smile, she asked, "How's the modeling coming along?"
Trisha's cheeks flushed a deep shade of pink. "It's going okay," she mumbled, looking down at her feet. "I had a photoshoot last week."
Chandrani felt a twinge of guilt for her earlier thoughts. "That's wonderful," she said, her voice genuine. "You must show me the pictures when you get a chance."
Trisha's eyes lit up. "Oh, I definitely will," she said, pulling out her phone. "But I actually wanted to talk to you about something else."
Chandrani raised an eyebrow, curious about what could possibly be so important.
Trisha leaned in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Bhabhi, I've been going through your Instagram," she said, her eyes twinkling mischievously.
Chandrani's heart skipped a beat. She had meticulously curated her online presence, a stark contrast to the traditional image she maintained in her in-laws' home. On Instagram, she allowed herself a small slice of freedom, sharing pictures of herself in modern, sometimes even daring, Western attire that showcased her figure with just enough flair to turn heads. She had hoped that her in-laws would never discover this side of her, and the thought of them finding out made her stomach flip with anxiety.
"What pics?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. She cast a furtive glance around the room, making sure no one was within earshot.
"Don't worry, bhabhi," Trisha giggled, her eyes dancing with mischief. "They're just pictures of you looking fabulous."
Chandrani felt a surge of relief wash over her, her heart rate slowing to a more manageable pace. She shot a grateful smile at Ashok, who had been watching the exchange with an amused expression on his face. He knew all too well the double life she led, and the thought of their conservative family discovering it was a source of constant tension.
"Oh, those are just some old photos," she said lightly, trying to brush off Trisha's comment. "Just playing around with the camera."
Trisha's grin grew wider. "No, bhabhi, they're not old. They're from last week!" she exclaimed, scrolling through her phone. "Look at this one, you look like a total diva!"
The screen revealed a picture of Chandrani in a figure-hugging red dress, the asymmetrical neckline showcasing her ample cleavage and her hair cascading down her back in soft waves. The caption beneath read, "Sometimes, you just have to break free from the daily grind and let your inner diva shine through!"
Ashok's eyes widened at the sight, and he couldn't help but feel a flicker of pride mixed with arousal. His wife looked absolutely stunning, a stark contrast to the modest bhabhi everyone knew her as. He had always loved her sense of style and the way she carried herself, and seeing her like this, confident and sexy, made his chest swell with desire.
"It's okay, Trisha," he interjected smoothly, placing a hand on his sister's arm. "Why don't you show Chandrani the pictures later?" He gave her a knowing look that she understood immediately. She grinned back, winking before slipping the phone back into her pocket.
The evening progressed with dinner preparations and more family banter. Chandrani felt the weight of her in-laws' judgmental gaze but carried on, playing her role perfectly. Yet, the image of her in that red dress kept popping into her head, along with the memory of the man's hand on her ass in the metro which no one in this world knows. It was a strange cocktail of fear and excitement, a reminder of the woman she had buried deep inside herself.
Finally, after the exhausting day and the tucking Rehan into bed, Chandrani retreated to the bedroom she shared with Ashok. She slipped into a sleeveless nighty, the fabric whispering against her skin as she moved. The room was dimly lit by the soft glow of the bedside lamp, casting shadows across the walls.
As she approached the bed, she noticed Ashok engrossed in his mobile, the light from the screen casting a harsh contrast on his face. She leaned over his shoulder to see what had captured his attention. To her shock, she realized he was scrolling through her Instagram account. Her heart skipped a beat as she recognized some of the more risqué photos she had posted, the ones that were meant for the eyes of her friends and not her conservative in-laws.
Her hand flew to her mouth as she read a comment that was anything but innocent: "I want to lick that navel," it said, beneath a picture of her in a tight, sleeveless dress, her belly button peeking out teasingly. The comment was from a user with a profile picture of a man in sunglasses, his true identity hidden behind a digital veil of anonymity. Ashok's eyes flicked up to meet hers, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. He scrolled down to another photo, this one taken at a recent fundraising event where she had posed between two foreign dignitaries.
The comment on that one was far more explicit: "Surely got fucked by two bulls at night in both love holes," it read, the crudeness of the words making Chandrani's cheeks burn with a deep crimson. She couldn't believe that someone would say such a thing about her, especially when she had been doing nothing but her duty as a socialite and philanthropist. Yet, as much as she wanted to be outraged, a small part of her was...flattered? No, it was more than that. It was a heady mix of fear and excitement, a taste of the forbidden fruit that she had never allowed herself to sample.
Her hand trembled as she reached out to snatch the phone away from Ashok, but he was quicker. He held it out of her reach, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Let me see," she demanded, trying to keep her voice steady.
He chuckled, his gaze never leaving her flustered face. "Someone has quite the fan club," he said, his tone teasing. "But seriously, baby, you need to be careful with what you post. You never know who's out there."
Chandrani's eyes flashed with annoyance, but she knew he had a point. She had always been so cautious with her social media, but the thought of someone, anyone, fantasizing about her in such a way was both disturbing and oddly thrilling. She reached for the phone, her hand shaking slightly, and read the comments for herself. The words were crude, objectifying, and yet...arousing.. though she was accustomed to such comments and compliments.
"These are just sick, perverted thoughts," she murmured, trying to hand the phone back to him. But Ashok didn't take it. Instead, he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close. She could feel the hardness of his cock pressing against her stomach, and she knew he wasn't as upset as he pretended to be.
"Chandrani," he whispered into her ear, his breath hot and heavy. "You're so beautiful, it's no wonder they can't resist." His voice was filled with a mix of lust and possessiveness that sent a shiver down her spine. "But tonight, you're all mine."
With that, he took the phone from her trembling hands and placed it on the bedside table. He turned her around to face him, his eyes dark with desire as they locked onto hers. Without another word, he reached behind her and unhooked her bra, letting it fall to the floor. Her breasts spilled out, heavy and full, the nipples hardened into tight buds. He took one in his mouth, sucking and teasing it as she moaned, her hands clutching the bedspread.
Ashok's touch was rougher than usual, more urgent. He could feel the heat emanating from her body, the same heat that had drawn that stranger's eyes on the metro. He knew she was hungry for it, craving the kind of passion that had been missing from their love life for years.
Chandrani looked up at him, her eyes smoldering with a need that was unmistakable. "Fuck me," she whispered, her voice thick with desire. "Fuck me like you mean it."
Ashok felt his cock throb in response, his arousal spiking at her sudden aggression. He had never heard his usually demure wife speak so crudely, so bluntly. It was a stark reminder of the woman he had married, the one who had been hidden beneath layers of societal expectations and familial responsibilities. He felt his heart race as he realized that the events of the day had unlocked something within her, something wild and untamed.
He stepped back, allowing her to turn and crawl onto the bed, her ample ass in the air, the sari puddling around her waist. She glanced back at him, her eyes smoldering with a hunger that matched his own. He took a moment to appreciate the sight, her soft curves on display, the dark triangle of her hair peeking out from between her legs. He felt his cock jerk, begging for release, but he knew that he needed to give her what she wanted.
He approached the bed, his eyes never leaving hers as he knelt behind her. She watched him, her breath hitching in anticipation as he positioned himself, the tip of his cock teasing the entrance of her wet pussy. He placed one hand on her hip, the other tangling in her hair, gently pulling her head back. "Is this what you want?" he growled, his voice low and gruff.
"Yes," she moaned, her voice trembling. "Fuck me in doggy style. I want to feel you fill me up, to take me like that."
Ashok's eyes widened at the sudden shift in his usually conservative wife's demeanor. He had never heard her speak so boldly about their sex life, and the thought of her craving something more primal stirred a dormant hunger in him. He knew that when Chandrani was this horny, she would only accept the most intense and passionate of encounters.
He took a moment to appreciate the view as she lay before him, her ass up in the air, begging for his touch. The soft curves of her back and the way her sari had ridden up to expose the round, plump cheeks of her butt made his mouth water. He leaned in, planting a firm hand on her lower back to keep her in place. The anticipation was almost unbearable, the air thick with desire.
As he slid into her, her walls tightening around him, he whispered, "Who do you think about when you're alone, Chandrani?" His voice was a mix of challenge and seduction. He watched her face in the mirror on the opposite wall, her eyes half-closed, biting her bottom lip to keep from crying out.
Her breath hitched, and she opened her eyes to meet his gaze in the reflection. "What do you mean?" she replied, playing coy, her cheeks flushing a deeper shade of pink.
"You know," Ashok said, his voice low and gruff, as he began to thrust deeper into her. "When you're lying in bed at night, touching yourself... who do you think about? Is it me, or is it someone else?" He picked up the pace, his hips slapping against her ass with every forceful push.
Chandrani's eyes widened in the mirror, meeting his gaze. She could feel the heat building up within her, the pleasure mixing with the guilt of her earlier thoughts. "Always you," she gasped, her voice strained with each thrust. But the truth was, she hadn't been able to shake the image of the lecherous men oggling at her or those dirty comments. The way thye had looked at her, the way they had touched her without consent in those page 3 parties, had awoken a hunger she hadn't felt in years.
Ashok's grip tightened on her hip as he drove into her, his other hand reaching around to toy with her clit. "But what about the men you flirt with at the NGO?" he asked, his voice a low rumble. "Or the ones you meet at those fancy parties?"
Chandrani moaned, her eyes fluttering closed as she felt the familiar coil of pleasure begin to build in her belly. She had never told Ashok about the secret desires that sometimes haunted her dreams, the ones where she was taken by a stranger's hands, used and filled until she couldn't think of anything else. It was a guilty pleasure, one she had never allowed herself to indulge in reality.
But now, as he pounded into her, she couldn't help but let those thoughts slip from her mind and roll off her tongue in a whispered confession. "Ashok," she panted, her voice thick with lust, "I won't tell you if any of them...if they've ever..."
Her words trailed off as he slammed into her, his cock hitting her g-spot with every stroke. She bit her lip to keep from crying out, her eyes locking onto his in the mirror. He knew what she was saying, knew the dark path her thoughts had wandered down, and it only served to drive him wilder. "What's that, baby?" he asked, his tone mocking. "You won't tell me if they've had a taste of this sweet pussy?"
As he pounded into her, his hand working her clit with a skilled precision that she hadn't felt in years, she couldn't help but feel a thrill of danger at his words. "You'll never know," she murmured, her voice a seductive purr. "I'll never tell you if I let them have their way with me after the parties."
The words were out before she could stop them, and she watched as Ashok's eyes widened with a mix of shock and arousal. He slammed into her harder, his own orgasm building intensely.
In his mind, he pictured her with those powerful men she had flirted with, their hands on her body, claiming her in a way that he never could. The thought of her with someone else, especially someone like the thug from the metro, filled him with a strange mix of anger and excitement. His strokes grew more erratic as he pondered whether she was imagining it right now, whether she was picturing a rough, anonymous fuck instead of him.
Her moans grew louder, and he watched in the mirror as she threw her head back, her eyes squeezed shut. Was she thinking of another man's cock inside her? Was that what made her so wet, so desperate for release? The idea of her being taken by someone else, used and enjoyed without any concern for propriety or social status, was maddening and incredibly hot at the same time.
With a final, powerful thrust, Ashok reached his peak, his cum spurting out onto her ass cheeks with a force that surprised them both. He collapsed onto the bed beside her, his chest heaving with the effort of his climax. For a moment, they lay there, basking in the afterglow of their intense encounter.
Chandrani couldn't help the smug smile that played on her lips. "Is that all you've got, old man?" she teased, her voice laden with mock disappointment. It was a playful jab at his age and stamina, one that usually earned her a good-natured chuckle from her husband.
But tonight, the words had a bite to them, a hint of the tension that had been simmering between them since the metro incident. Ashok's eyes flashed with something other than amusement. "Oh, you think you need more than that?" he retorted, his tone still light but with a hint of challenge. "Maybe you're just used to those 'deewanas' who don't know when to quit."
The room grew cold with the sudden turn in their banter. Chandrani's smile faltered, and she pushed herself up onto her elbows, her eyes flashing with anger. "What do you mean by that?" she snapped, her voice sharp as a knife.
Ashok realized he had gone too far. The playful teasing had struck a nerve, and he felt a twinge of regret. He reached out to her, his hand gentle on her arm. "I'm sorry, baby," he said, his tone sincere. "It was just a joke."
But Chandrani was not in the mood for apologies. She pulled away from his touch, her eyes blazing. "A joke?" she spat out. "Is that what you think of me? That I'm some sort of...slut who can't get enough?"
The word hung in the air between them, charged with anger and hurt. Ashok felt his chest tighten with regret. He had never meant to make her feel that way, but the words had slipped out in the heat of the moment. "Chandrani," he began, his voice low and soothing, "I didn't mean it like that. I just..."
But she was already rolling over, turning her back to him. The silence was heavy, filled with the unspoken tension that had been building between them. Ashok knew he had to make it right. He reached out, tentatively, and pulled her into his arms, his hands gentle as he cradled her. She stiffened at first, but then she relaxed into his embrace, her body melting against his.
"I'm sorry, Chandrani," he murmured, kissing the top of her head. "I didn't mean to hurt you."
She took a deep breath, her body still trembling with the aftershocks of their intense lovemaking. "It's okay," she whispered, her voice muffled against his chest. "I know you didn't mean it."
Ashok felt the tension in his body ease slightly as she turned to face him, her eyes still filled with a smoldering passion. He leaned down and captured her lips in a gentle kiss, his tongue slipping into her mouth to tangle with hers. Chandrani responded eagerly, her arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him closer.
He knew that he needed to tread carefully. The line between their newfound sexual openness and the reality of their marriage was thin, and he didn't want to push her too far. But the thought of her desire for him was like a drug, making his blood pump faster and his cock swell again. "You know," he whispered against her mouth, "I've noticed the way some of those men look at you. It's like they want to fuck you right then and there."
Chandrani's eyes sparkled with mischief. "Do you think they'd dare?" she asked, her voice a low purr.
Ashok chuckled, his thumb tracing circles on her bare shoulder. "Some of them might," he said, his voice filled with a newfound confidence.
"But they know better than to mess with another man's wife," she replied, her voice filled with a teasing confidence that sent a thrill through him.
"Is that right?" Ashok whispered, his hand moving down to cup her breast. "But what if there was someone who didn't care?" His thumb flicked over her nipple, watching as it hardened beneath his touch.
Chandrani gasped, arching her back, her eyes meeting his in the mirror. "What are you saying?" she asked, her voice breathless.
Ashok leaned down, his breath hot against her ear. "I'm saying, if there's someone you've been thinking about, someone who makes your panties wet just by looking at you...I want to know." His hand slid down to her waist, his fingers digging into her soft flesh. "I want to know who it is, baby."
Chandrani's heart raced at the thought. She had never been so open with her husband, had never allowed herself to admit these dark desires aloud. But tonight was different. The events of the day had unlocked something within her, and she found herself craving the dangerous edge that their conversation was taking. She buried her face in his chest, her voice barely a whisper. "It's just...it's no one. Just...fantasies."
Ashok felt her pulse quicken against his skin, her breath warm and erratic. He knew she was lying, but he also knew that pushing her would only make her retreat further. He kissed her forehead gently, his hand stroking her back soothingly. "It's okay, baby," he murmured. "We all have our fantasies. They're just that...fantasies."
Chandrani looked up at him, her eyes searching his for any hint of anger or judgment. But all she saw was a fierce hunger, a reflection of the passion that she had unleashed in their love making. "You don't mind?" she asked, her voice small and vulnerable.
Ashok leaned in, his nose brushing against hers. "Why would I mind?" he murmured. "As long as you come home to me at the end of the day, as long as I'm the one who makes you scream, who makes your body sing, then whoever you think about is just that...someone in your mind."
He felt her relax against him, her breathing evening out. He kissed her softly, his hand sliding down to her waist. "But if you ever want to act on it," he whispered, his voice a dark promise, "just tell me. I'd love to watch you lose control."
Her eyes snapped to his, the green of them deepening with surprise and a hint of arousal. "What?" she breathed out, her voice trembling.
"You heard me," Ashok said, his eyes never leaving hers. "If there's someone you want, if it's just lust, I want to know. I want to know what makes you wet when you think of them." His hand slid down to the wetness between her legs, and he groaned when he felt how ready she was for more.
Chandrani bit her lip, her heart racing. She had never talked to Ashok this way before, never admitted to the raw, carnivorous desires that sometimes plagued her mind. But the way he was looking at her, the way he touched her, it made her feel like she could tell him anything. "It's just...it's no one," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.
Ashok's hand paused in its exploration of her body, his eyes searching hers. "You can tell me, baby," he coaxed, his voice a gentle rumble. "Who is it? Who makes you so hot?"
Chandrani's cheeks flushed a darker shade of pink, and she averted her gaze, feeling the weight of her secret pressing down on her. "It's just...it's no one you know," she murmured, her voice filled with a mix of embarrassment and desire. "It's just a fantasy. I'd never do it for real. I'm your wife, and I love you. I couldn't betray you like that."
Ashok's eyes searched hers, and he felt a strange mix of emotions: jealousy, arousal, and something else. It was almost like...pride? That his wife, his Chandrani, could stir such passion in others, even if it was just in her mind. "I understand, baby," he said, his voice low and soothing. "But you don't have to hide it from me."
He leaned in closer, his breath hot against her neck. "Tell me," he whispered, his teeth grazing her earlobe. "What does he look like? What does he do to you?"
Chandrani shivered at the question, her body responding despite her efforts to keep her secret hidden. She knew that Ashok was trying to understand her, to be a part of her fantasy world. But she also knew that revealing her true desires could be dangerous. Instead, she chose to dodge the topic, her voice light. "It's just a silly game, Ashok," she said, trying to laugh it off. "You know how my mind works."
He pulled away slightly, his gaze searching her face for any sign of dishonesty. "Chandrani," he said, his tone firm, "I want to know."
Her eyes searched his for a moment, and she could see the desire in his eyes. It was clear that he wasn't just playing along; he truly wanted to share in her darkest thoughts. "It's just a game," she repeated, her voice softer this time. "It doesn't mean anything."
Ashok studied her face, his thumb still tracing lazy circles on her thigh. "Okay," he said finally, his voice filled with a resignation that she didn't miss. "But if you ever want to tell me, I'm here." He kissed her again, and she could feel the tension between them slowly dissipating.
They lay there in silence for a few moments, their bodies still entwined. Chandrani felt the weight of the conversation lift off her shoulders, and she was grateful for his understanding. She knew that their love was strong, that they could handle anything that came their way.
As the tension between them eased, Ashok's eyes grew heavy with sleep. His hand remained on her thigh, his fingers tracing lazy circles as his breathing grew deep and even. Chandrani watched him, feeling a mix of love and desire swell in her chest. She knew that she could tell him anything, but she also knew that some secrets were better left unsaid.
Her mind drifted back to those evenings at the NGO events, the way the politicians and bureaucrats had looked at her, their eyes filled with lust. She had often felt like a piece of meat, displayed for their amusement and pleasure. But she had learned to navigate those treacherous waters, using her charm and wit to get what she needed without giving in to their advances.
Her hand trailed down her belly, her fingers finding the slick wetness between her legs. She imagined it was one of those powerful men touching her, claiming her as their prize. Her breath hitched as she thought of the times she had accompanied them to hotel rooms, playing the seductive game, knowing that they wanted to fuck her brains out. She had always managed to dodge the final act, playing coy with banter about saving herself for a higher bidder at a charity auction.
But the memories of their hands on her, the way they had groped her ass and squeezed her breasts under the guise of innocent touches, filled her with a heady mix of anger and desire. She had allowed it, using her body as a bargaining chip for funding, and now the thought of it had her touching herself, her fingers delving deeper into her folds.
Chandrani's eyes fluttered closed as she remembered the feel of those rough hands on her skin, the smell of their cologne mingling with the stale air of the hotel room. Her breath grew ragged as she imagined the thug from the morning, his calloused hands caressing her ass crack, making her wet despite herself. It was wrong, she knew, but the thrill of it all had her on edge.
Her hand slid further down her body, her fingers finding the slick heat of her arousal. She circled her clit gently, the memory of the thug's grip on her ass sending bolts of pleasure through her. She bit her lip, stifling a moan as she thought of the politician's lecherous gazes, the way they had all but drooled over her. It was a power play, she knew, and she had used her body as a tool to win the game. But now, in the quiet of their bedroom, she couldn't help but wonder if she had enjoyed it a little too much.
Suddenly, a gust of wind blew through the open window, sending a chill down her spine and bringing her back to reality. She snatched her hand away from her pussy as if burned, her eyes flying open. She looked over at Ashok, his eyes closed in sleep, and felt a wash of guilt and embarrassment. She had been lost in a world of her aspirations, and she didn't like the person she saw in the mirror.
Chandrani knew that her flirtations had gone too far at times, but she had always drawn the line at cheating. But the way those men had talked about her, the way they had touched her, it had made her feel desired in a way that Ashok's gentle caresses never could. It was a dirty, twisted feeling, one that made her stomach turn.
As the wind continued to rustle the curtains, she turned to look at her sleeping husband. He was oblivious to the storm brewing in her mind, his face serene in the soft glow of the moonlight. She reached out, her hand trembling, and lightly stroked his cheek. "I'm sorry," she murmured, her voice filled with regret. "I'm so sorry for what I've done."
Ashok stirred slightly, his eyes fluttering open. He looked at her with a sleepy smile. "What is it, baby?" he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep.
Chandrani took a deep breath, her heart pounding in her chest. She knew she had to tell him. "It's nothing," she whispered, her voice hoarse with emotion. "Just...just hold me, okay?"
Ashok pulled her closer, his arms wrapping around her tightly. He could feel her shaking, and he knew that something was wrong. But he didn't push her. He knew that she would tell him when she was ready. For now, he was content to just be there for her, to offer her the comfort she so desperately needed.
As they lay there, Chandrani's thoughts continued to whirl. She had never admitted her true feelings before, never allowed herself to be vulnerable in front of Ashok. But the guilt and the desire were too much to bear alone. She leaned her head against his chest, listening to the steady thump of his heart.
"Ashok," she murmured, her voice shaking slightly. "There's something I need to tell you."
Her husband stirred, his arms tightening around her. "What is it?" he asked, his voice thick with sleep.
"Nothing," she lied, her voice barely above a whisper.
Ashok's arms tightened around her for a moment before he relaxed, his eyes closing again. She knew he didn't believe her, but he was too tired to argue. Chandrani lay there, her mind racing with the dark secrets she hadn't shared. She had been so close to telling him everything—about the times she had been cornered by those men, the way their hands had roamed her body without permission, the sickening feeling of powerlessness she had felt. But she had held back, not wanting to burden him with the reality of the world she had to navigate for her own aspiration and also political ambition.
Sympathy filled her as she gazed at his peaceful face. He was a good man, a loving husband and father. He didn't deserve to know the truth of the games she played to survive in her world. She knew he had his own insecurities and fears, and she didn't want to add to them. But she couldn't help the bitter taste in her mouth as she thought of the powerlessness she had felt in those moments, the way those influential men had treated her like a toy to be used and discarded.
With a heavy sigh, she leaned over and kissed Ashok softly on the cheek, her lips lingering for a moment. He stirred slightly, a contented smile playing on his lips, and she felt a pang of love for him. Despite his flaws, he was hers, and she would protect him from the ugliness she had seen.
The room was still, their breathing the only sound in the darkness. She snuggled closer to him, feeling the warmth of his body against hers. Her hand slid down to rest on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath her palm. As she closed her eyes, she imagined herself telling him everything—the lecherous looks, the groping hands, the fear and disgust she had felt. But she knew that he would be powerless to stop it, that he would feel as trapped as she had. So she kept her secret, letting the guilt and anger simmer just below the surface.
The wind outside grew stronger, and she shivered, her mind drifting to the cold, hard reality of the world she had created for herself. She had used her sexuality to climb the social ladder, to get what she wanted without ever truly giving in. But at what cost? The thought of those men taking her, using her, with Ashok forced to watch, made her stomach turn. Yet she loved him, loved him enough to keep her darkest moments to herself.
With a heavy heart, she leaned over and whispered, "I love you, Ashok," her voice barely a breath in the quiet night. She knew he was too far gone to hear her, lost in a world where she was still the innocent woman he had married. She kissed his cheek, the stubble rough against her lips, and felt a tear slip down her own.
If she told him the truth, that she had been used and objectified by those very men she had invited into their lives for their ambitions, what would he do? Would he storm into their offices, demanding justice? Would he be able to look at her the same way, knowing that she had allowed herself to be soiled in the pursuit of power? She doubted it. He was a good man, but not a fighter. He had never had to be.
With a heavy heart, she leaned over and whispered, "I'm sorry," against his cheek, her breath warm and soft. He stirred slightly in his sleep, his arm tightening around her waist. She knew he had his own insecurities, his own fears about her and their marriage. The last thing she wanted to do was give him a reason to doubt her love or her faithfulness. So she held her tongue and kissed him, her lips lingering on his, tasting the salt of her own tears.
One week later, on a lazy Sunday afternoon, Ashok announced that he had received an invitation from some potential business investors. They had arranged a meeting at an upscale restaurant downtown, and he was thrilled at the opportunity to expand business of his company. Chandrani listened with a forced smile, her stomach knotting as she thought of the evening ahead. She had also received an invitation, but to a different kind of event—a party at Jorawar Khan's mansion, a man whose influence could make or break their social standing.
"I can't come with you," she said, her voice slightly strained. "But I'll take a cab and meet you at the restaurant afterward."
Ashok nodded, trying not to let his disappointment show. "Okay, I'll see you there, then." he know its futile to argue with chandrani. He watched as Chandrani began to get ready, his eyes lingering on the noodle strap blouse she had chosen to wear. It was a bold choice, one that showcased her toned shoulders and the swell of her breasts. He couldn't help but feel a twinge of pride, knowing that she would be the center of attention at the party.
He had noticed the shaving kit in the bathroom that morning, and now the pieces fell into place. It was clear she had planned to wear this outfit for Jorawar's party, not just for him. The thought of her using her sex appeal to win over the influential men at the party sent a jolt of arousal through him. He had to admit, the idea of her dressed like this, playing the seductive hostess, had him intrigued. It was a side of her he had never seen before, and it stirred something primal within him.
As she slipped into the chiffon sari, the fabric clinging to her curves, he couldn't help but imagine the looks she would get from the other men. The way they would eye her, lustfully, the way they would whisper about her when they thought she wasn't listening. It was a thrilling thought, one that had him adjusting his own attire to ensure he looked every bit the proud husband. He watched as she tied her hair back in a bun, the nape of her neck exposed, making her look vulnerable yet powerful.
"You know," he began, his voice low and teasing, "you're going to give those old fogeys at the dinner a heart attack."
Chandrani looked over at him with a smirk, her hand pausing in the act of securing an earring. "Is that so?" she asked, her voice laden with playful challenge.
Ashok's eyes swept over her, taking in the way the sari clung to her curves, the hint of bare skin at her waist. "Yes," he said, his voice gruff with desire. "You're going to be the talk of the town."
Chandrani's smirk grew wider, and she stepped closer to him, her hand sliding down to trace the outline of his erection through his pants. "And what about you?" she whispered, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "What will you do when you see all those jealous wives eyeing their husbands looking at me?"
Ashok groaned, his hips jerking slightly at her touch. "I'll remind them all that you're mine," he murmured, his eyes darkening with lust. "And tonight, when we're alone, I'm going to fuck you until you can't walk straight."
The promise in his voice sent a shiver down Chandrani's spine. She stepped closer, her breasts brushing against his chest. "Is that so?" she whispered, her voice husky with desire. "And what if I want you right now?"
Ashok's eyes glinted with challenge. "Then you'll have to be quick," he said, his hand sliding down to cup her ass. "Because if I start, I might not be able to stop."
Chandrani giggled, her body responding to his touch despite the tension in the room. She knew that she had to leave soon, that every second she lingered here with him was a second closer to being caught. But the thought of his hands on her, of the raw passion in his eyes, had her heart racing. She leaned in, her mouth finding his, their kiss deep and hungry.
The sound of Rehan's laughter in the hallway was like a cold shower, snapping them out of their momentary reverie. Chandrani pulled back, her eyes wide with panic. "Ashok," she whispered urgently, her hand pressing against his chest. "They'll see me like this."
Ashok smirked, his eyes gleaming with mischief. He stepped back, his hand sliding down her side, tracing the bare skin before resting on her hip. "What's the big deal?" he asked, his voice low and teasing.
Chandrani felt a flush creep up her neck as she looked down at her outfit. The sari and noodle strap blouse was indeed more revealing than what she would normally wear around the house. "It's just..." she began, her voice trailing off.
"What?" Ashok prompted, his own eyes traveling down her body, taking in every inch of exposed skin. He knew that she had chosen this outfit with care, that she had wanted to look her best for the party. The realization that she was deliberately flaunting her sexuality had his cock thickening in his pants, and he couldn't resist the urge to play along.
Chandrani's blush deepened as she met his gaze. "It's just...I don't think it's appropriate for Rehan to see me like this," she murmured, her hand self-consciously touching the neckline of her blouse. "Or for the governess to gossip."
Ashok's smirk grew wider. He knew exactly what she was getting at. He stepped closer, his hand sliding around her waist. "But why would you care what they think?" he asked, his voice a low purr. "You're my wife, and if I want to see you dressed like this, then that's all that matters."
Chandrani felt a thrill run through her at his words. It was true; she had dressed to impress, to show off her assets. But the thought of their son and the governess seeing her like this was mortifying. "Ashok," she whispered, her cheeks flushing a deep red. "You know we can't."
Ashok's smirk grew into a full-blown grin as he stepped closer, his hand sliding down to cup her ass cheek. "Why not?" he challenged, his voice low and seductive. "You look beautiful, and I want everyone to see it."
Chandrani's blush deepened as she stepped back, trying to put some distance between them. "Ashok," she scolded, her voice barely above a whisper. "We can't do this now."
But he was undeterred, his hand sliding up her back to tug at the strap of her blouse. "Why not?" he murmured, his eyes never leaving hers. "They're all going to be talking about you tonight anyway."
The mention of the party, of Jorawar and the other men, sent a fresh wave of desire through Chandrani. She knew that what she was about to do was wrong, that it would only feed the rumor mills. But she couldn't help herself. With a gasp, she allowed Ashok to pull her closer, her breasts pressing against his chest. His hands were everywhere, cupping her ass, sliding up her sides, his thumbs brushing against her hardened nipples.
"Ashok," she whispered, her voice a plea. "We can't. Rehan is right outside."
He knew she was right, but the desire was too strong to ignore. With a frustrated sigh, he stepped back, his hand dropping from her blouse. "Fine," he said, his voice gruff with need. "But remember, tonight full of action."
Chandrani nodded, her eyes glazed with desire. "I know," she murmured, her hand reaching up to cup his cheek. "ok..baba."
Ashok watched her go, his eyes lingering on the sway of her hips. He knew she was playing a dangerous game, but he couldn't help the thrill that shot through him at the thought of her dressed like that, using her beauty to manipulate the powerful men at the party. It was a side of her he had never seen before, and it was intoxicating.
With a sigh, he turned his attention to Rehan and the governess, forcing a smile onto his face as he herded them out the door. They chattered away, oblivious to the storm of emotions brewing inside him. As he drove to the restaurant, his thoughts drifted back to those whispers he had heard at past events. The way the men had talked about Chandrani, their leers and nudges, had always made his blood boil. But now, with her dressed so provocatively, the rumors took on a new dimension.
He tried to shake them off, telling himself that she was faithful, that she was his. But the memory of her hand on his erection, her willingness to give in to their passion despite their son's presence, made him question her intentions. Was she really as innocent as she claimed, or was she playing a more dangerous game?
As he parked the car and stepped out into the cool evening air, he couldn't help but remember the way she had looked at him before she left, a mix of defiance and desire. It was a look that said she knew exactly what she was doing and that she was in control.
The drive to the restaurant was a blur of traffic lights and honking horns, but all Ashok could think about was the rumor mill that had been churning at the last party he had attended with Chandrani. He had overheard whispers of her and Jorawar, the powerful politician whose patronage could make or break their social and professional aspirations. They had talked about her late-night meetings, the way she would laugh at Jorawar's jokes, her hand lingering just a moment too long on his arm. It had made his blood boil then, but now, knowing she was dressed to kill and headed to that den of wolves, it was all he could think about.
He had seen the way Jorawar looked at her, his eyes raking over her body, his smile predatory. And he had heard the lewd jokes, the not-so-subtle hints about what she had to do to secure those coveted funds for her NGO. It had made him feel powerless, and he had hated it. But now, with her dressed like that, the memory of those whispers took on a new dimension. Was she playing a game? Did she enjoy the power she wielded?
As he walked into the restaurant, the cool air conditioning doing little to cool the heat of his thoughts, he was greeted by the smell of spices and the clink of glasses. The dinner party was in full swing, and the other guests looked up as he entered. They all knew him, of course—his family's reputation had preceded him—but tonight, all eyes were on him. Where was Chandrani? The question hung in the air, unspoken but palpable.
He forced a smile as he took his seat, the fabric of his shirt sticking to his sweaty back. The small talk and polite enquiries about his wife's whereabouts grated on his nerves. "She's busy," he said, his voice tight. "She'll join us later."
The evening dragged on, the laughter and clinking of silverware a cacophony in his ears. He couldn't focus on the business discussions, his mind racing with images of Chandrani. Was she at Jorawar's party, playing the coy seductress? The thought sent a shiver of arousal down his spine, mingled with a darker emotion he didn't dare name.
Each time his phone buzzed, he hoped it was her, explaining, reassuring him. But it remained silent, the screen taunting him with her last message. He excused himself from the table, stepping outside for a moment's respite from the oppressive atmosphere of forced joviality. The cool night air washed over him, but it did nothing to ease his growing anxiety.
"Is everything alright, Ashok?" one of the investors asked, noticing his distraction.
He nodded, forcing a smile. "Just a bit of... indigestion," he lied, patting his stomach. "Chandrani isn't feeling well. She won't be able to make it tonight."
The man nodded sympathetically, and the conversation moved on, but Ashok's thoughts remained consumed by his wife. He excused himself again, his phone vibrating in his pocket. This time, it was a text message from Chandrani. "Sorry, Ashok. I won't be able to make it to dinner. Something came up at the party. I'll go home directly. Love you," it read. His heart sank, but he replied with a calmness that surprised even him. "Take care. See you soon."
He took a deep breath and returned to the dinner, plastering a smile on his face as he retook his seat. The evening's festivities were in full swing, the air thick with the scent of exotic spices and the clinking of fine china. He forced himself to engage in the conversations around him, nodding and smiling at all the right moments. But with each passing minute, the knot in his stomach grew tighter.
As the dinner wound down, the questions about Chandrani's absence grew more pointed. "Is she okay?" one of the investors asked, genuine concern etched on his face.
"Oh, yes," Ashok replied, the lie sticking in his throat. "Just a bit of a headache."
Once home, Ashok found the house eerily quiet. The scent of Rehan's shampoo lingered in the hallway, a gentle reminder of the life that awaited him beyond the shadows of his own thoughts. Meera, their governess, emerged from Rehan's room, her expression a picture of innocent concern. "How was dinner?" she asked, her eyes darting to the clock on the wall.
"It was fine," Ashok lied, his voice tight with the weight of his suspicion. "Chandrani had to stay back at the party. She's not feeling well."
Meera nodded sympathetically, her eyes flickering with understanding. She had seen the way Chandrani dressed before she left, the blatant sexuality she exuded in her attire. "I'll check on Rehan before I go," she offered, her voice a soft murmur.
Ashok nodded, his eyes following her as she disappeared into their son's room. The quiet of the house was unsettling, the weight of his thoughts pressing down on him. When she emerged a few minutes later, her expression was one of innocent concern. "He's asleep," she said softly. "Is there anything else you need?"
"No, Meera," he replied, his voice tight. "Thank you."
Meera nodded and slipped away, leaving Ashok alone with his thoughts. He made his way to the living room and poured himself a generous glass of scotch, the amber liquid glinting in the soft light. He took a deep swig, letting the warmth spread through him like a balm, trying to ease the ache in his chest. The house was so quiet without Chandrani's laughter, without her gentle chiding of Rehan, without the comforting sounds of her cooking in the kitchen.
He walked over to the window, the curtains fluttering slightly in the breeze. He watched the city lights flicker in the distance, the sounds of traffic muffled by the thick panes of glass. The scotch burned a path down his throat, a bittersweet reminder of his own powerlessness. He picked up his phone and called Chandrani again, his thumb hovering over her name. But the line went straight to voicemail. He clenched his jaw, his mind racing with images of her and Jorawar, her dressed in that damn blouse and sari that screamed temptation.
Ashok couldn't help but feel a twisted sense of pride, mixed with anger and fear. He knew she had dressed that way for the party, to play the seductive hostess, to win over the men who held the keys to her NGO's success.
Rehan, their son, darted in, his cheeks flushed with excitement. "Mama, can I bring my new video game?"
Chandrani's gaze flicked to the digital clock on the bedside table, noticing it was already past the time they had planned to leave. "Rehan, we're leaving in five minutes. You can take it, but only if you promise to keep it safe and not bother us while we're driving."
As the trio descended the stairs to the car, Chandrani felt the familiar knot of dread in her stomach. The traffic in the city was notorious for its unpredictability, and she had hoped they could avoid it by leaving early. But fate had other plans. As they approached the main road, they were met with a sea of honking horns and unmoving cars. Chandrani sighed and settled into the passenger seat, her son's chatter from the backseat a distant echo amidst her thoughts.
The sweltering heat of the afternoon sun made the metal of the car's exterior feel like it was burning to the touch. The air conditioner whirred ineffectively, the cool air doing little to alleviate the sticky discomfort that clung to them like a second skin. Chandrani looked over at her husband, his knuckles white as he gripped the steering wheel in frustration. His eyes flicked to hers, and she offered a small, reassuring smile.
"We should have left earlier," Ashok grumbled, his gaze darting to the rearview mirror to check on their son.
Chandrani reached over and placed a gentle hand on his thigh. "It's okay, we'll get there eventually."
Her touch had a calming effect on Ashok, and he took a deep breath, trying to push aside his irritation. He glanced at his wife, admiring the way her sari clung to her curvy figure, revealing just enough to make him want more. It had been a while since they had shared anything more than a routine, almost mechanical intimacy, and the thought of spending a weekend away from their daily routine sparked a glimmer of hope in his chest.
As the hours crawled by, the traffic only grew worse.
"This is ridiculous," Ashok muttered, his jaw clenched. "We're going nowhere."
Chandrani nodded in agreement, wiping a bead of sweat from her forehead. "Let's try the metro," she suggested, pointing to the nearby mall with a metro station. "It's faster, and we can park the car here."
Ashok hesitated, the thought of being stuck in this traffic for much longer was too much to bear. He relented but With a sigh of resignation and steered the car into the mall's parking lot, following Chandrani's lead. The cool air of the mall was a welcome reprieve from the stifling heat outside, and the three of them made their way to the metro station. The station was bustling with people, a stark contrast to the quiet car ride they had been in. Chandrani held Rehan's hand tightly as they navigated the crowded platform.
Chandrani was a 40-year-old MILF, a fact that often went unnoticed amidst the chaos of her life as a mother and a wife. Her figure, though slightly softened by the years, was still curvaceous and alluring, a testament to her meticulous care and the genes that had blessed her with a youthful glow. Her long, dark hair was tied in a sleek bun, a few tendrils escaping to frame her face. She had chosen a simple yet elegant blue sari, which complemented the gold jewelry that adorned her neck and wrists. The sleeveless blouse she wore today was a rarity; usually, she preferred the modesty of full-sleeved garments, in front of her in-laws. But today's heat had made it unbearable, and the bareness of her arms felt strange and slightly thrilling against the cool fabric and moreover, she thought they will be travelling in car.
The metro was a crush of humanity, a microcosm of the city's diversity. The scent of various perfumes and deodorants mingled with the faint odor of sweat, creating an intoxicating blend that was uniquely metropolitan. Chandrani felt a shiver run down her spine as the train lurched forward, the bodies around her shifting and pressing closer.
Suddenly, there was a sharp tug at her sari pallu, and she was propelled in the opposite direction of Ashok and Rehan. Her eyes widened in surprise as she was engulfed by the sea of strangers, their hands and limbs brushing against her in the mad rush to find balance. She felt a strange sense of vulnerability, her body exposed to the touch of unknown men and women, their eyes darting over her in the frenetic dance of the crowded train.
Ashok's hand slipped from her shoulder, and she watched in horror as he was pushed back with Rehan into the other side, leaving them separated. Chandrani's heart raced as she searched for any familiar faces, but there were none. She was surrounded by a wall of strangers, their expressions ranging from irritation to amusement at the plight of the separated family.
Her hand shot up to grip the metal rod above, the only thing keeping her upright as the train jolted into motion. In the chaos, the fabric of her blouse shifted, revealing her cleanly shaven armpit. A burly man in his 50s standing in front of her couldn't help but stare, his eyes lingering on the smooth, slightly damp flesh. Chandrani felt a hot blush creep up her neck, her discomfort growing with each second. She tried to adjust her sari, but the press of bodies around her made it impossible. The man's leer grew bolder, and she could feel his gaze roving over her, taking in every inch of her exposed skin.
Across the aisle, Ashok noticed his wife's plight. His heart hammered in his chest as he saw the man ogling her. He felt a strange mix of protectiveness and arousal, his eyes drawn to the sight of his wife's bare skin, something so rarely seen in public. He tugged at Rehan's hand, trying to navigate through the throng of people to reach her, but it was like trying to swim against a tide of humanity.
The burly man's gaze grew more brazen, and Chandrani could feel his eyes roaming over her body, lingering on her armpit and then sliding down to her ample cleavage, which was also dangerously close to being exposed. She felt a rush of embarrassment, but also a strange sense of power. She was an object of desire, even in this crowded, impersonal space. Her breath hitched, and she squeezed the metal rod tighter, her knuckles turning white.
Ashok's heart was racing as he watched the scene unfold. His mind was torn between his duty as a husband and the sudden, primal urge that had taken hold of him. He felt his cock stiffen in his pants as he took in the sight of Chandrani's body, so close yet so far. It had been ages since he had seen her this way, and the vulnerability and desire in her eyes was like a siren's call to him. He was torn between pushing through the crowd to save her from the ogling stranger and letting the moment play out to see where it led.
The train lurched again, and the man's hand accidentally grazed Chandrani's breast. She gasped, her eyes widening with a mix of shock and arousal. The touch was fleeting, but it sent a jolt through her body that was impossible to ignore. She could feel her nipples harden, pressing against the fabric of her blouse. The man's gaze met hers, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. He leaned in closer, the scent of his cologne mingling with the stale air of the metro.
Ashok watched as his wife turned away from the man, her back now facing the lecher. The crowd had shifted, and her bare shoulders and back were on full display. The blouse clung to her damp skin, the fabric almost transparent from the heat.
He couldn't help but feel a twinge of regret for not stopping her from wearing the sleeveless blouse. The way it had shifted was not entirely appropriate, and the thought of his wife being ogled by strangers made him uneasy. However, the sight of her, so close to the brink of being exposed, had a strange effect on him. He felt his cock thicken, his arousal growing despite the situation.
Chandrani felt the man's hot breath on her neck as the train lurched again, and she knew he was taking advantage of her vulnerability. She wanted to scream, to push him away, but the fear of causing a scene in front of their son and the other passengers held her back. Instead, she turned her face towards the man, her eyes flashing with disgust. She hoped that her expression would be enough to make him stop, but he only smirked in response, his eyes roaming over her body with a hunger that made her skin crawl.
Ashok's eyes narrowed as he watched his wife's back. Her blouse was now riding up, revealing the top of her sari blouse and the curve of her back. He felt his chest tighten with a mix of anger and arousal as he imagined the man's hands on her. He wanted to charge through the crowd and rip the bastard away from his wife, but his feet remained rooted to the spot. The sight of her bare skin was driving him wild, and he could feel his cock strain against his pants. He was torn between his duty as a protector and the sudden, unwelcome thrill of seeing his wife desired by another man.
He tried to read Chandrani's body language, the tension in her shoulders and the way she leaned slightly away from the lecher. Was she scared or...? The thought that she might be enjoying it, even just a little, sent a bolt of desire straight to his groin. He pictured the man's hand sliding over her round, firm ass, his cock pressing into her from behind. The image was so vivid in his mind that he could almost feel it himself. His breath grew ragged, his pulse quickening.
Ashok's mind raced with scenarios, each more erotic than the last. He imagined the man's hand slipping under the folds of her sari, caressing her bare skin. Was that a shiver of pleasure that passed over her face, or was it just the cold air from the AC? His cock grew harder, straining against his pants. He clenched his fists, his knuckles white with the effort of not reaching out and joining the unwelcome dance.
For a brief moment, he thought he saw Chandrani's eyes close and her lips part slightly, as if she was savoring the illicit touch. The sight sent a jolt of electricity through him, making his cock throb. He wasn't sure if it was real or a figment of his imagination, a desperate attempt to make sense of his conflicting emotions. Was she really enjoying this unwanted attention, or was she just trying to endure it?
He remembered the countless times he had felt this strange mix of inadequacy and excitement when Chandrani would come home from her work at the NGO, recounting tales of charming politicians and suave bureaucrats who flirted with her shamelessly. Her office was a hotbed of power and sexual tension, and she was the queen bee, her beauty and grace drawing them in like moths to a flame. Each time she shared these stories, his stomach would churn with a mix of jealousy and arousal, picturing her in their arms, her body yielding to their desires.
Those page 3 parties she attended with him in tow, playing the supportive wife while men twice his age ogled her openly, whispering sweet nothings in her ear. It was a dance they both knew well, the game of pretend and the thrill of the chase. She would always come home to him, of course, but the thought of her surrounded by those powerful figures, their eyes hungrily devouring her, made him feel both insecure and oddly excited. He had caught himself fantasizing about walking in on her with another man, the raw passion and desire etched on her face as she succumbed to the temptation. It was a dark, twisted thought, but it brought a twisted smile to his lips nonetheless.
Suddenly, the train jerked to a stop, jolting him back to reality.
Ashok realized with a start that the train had reached their destination station. He had been so lost in his thoughts, in the heated dance of his imagination, that he had almost missed it. He glanced at Chandrani, who was now standing slightly apart from the man, her sari back in place, though the look on her face was one of relief and perhaps a hint of something else.
The doors slid open with a hiss, and the sea of people began to spill out of the train. Chandrani stepped out onto the platform, her eyes searching the crowd for her husband and son. She felt a strange mix of emotions: anger at the man's unwanted advances, embarrassment at her own reaction, and a peculiar sense of excitement that she hadn't felt in years.
Ashok, his heart pounding, pushed his way through the throng, his eyes scanning the faces of the disembarking passengers. He was still not sure what had happened between Chandrani and the thug, but he could see the relief etched on her face as she stepped out of the train. He was torn between his anger at the man's audacity and a strange sense of excitement that had taken root in his gut.
As the crowd thinned, he saw her standing there, her eyes searching the sea of faces. His breath caught in his throat as she spotted him and Rehan. The moment their gazes met, the tension of the past few minutes melted away. He hurried over, scooping his son into his arms and reaching for Chandrani's hand.
"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice thick with worry as he held her tightly. She nodded, her voice lost in the cacophony of the station. His hand moved to her cheek, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear, and she leaned into his touch, drawing comfort from his presence.
The warmth of his hand on her skin was reassuring, and she felt a shiver of relief run through her body. "I'm fine," she managed to murmur, her eyes searching his for any sign of anger or disappointment.
But Ashok's gaze was filled with something else entirely. It was a mix of concern, arousal, and something that looked almost... hungry. Chandrani felt a jolt of confusion, unsure if she had read the situation correctly. The hand that had been resting comfortingly on her cheek now moved down to her neck, his thumb stroking her collarbone lightly. The touch was tender, yet it sent a shiver down her spine.
As they made their way out of the metro and into the bustling streets, Chandrani couldn't shake the feeling that something had shifted between them. The tension was palpable, a silent symphony playing out in the space between their bodies. They arrived at the city home of Ashok's parents, a place steeped in tradition and the expectations of the ideal daughter-in-law role she had so meticulously crafted over the years.
The moment they stepped through the ornate doors, she slipped effortlessly into her public persona. She covered her bare arm with her sari pallu, ensuring that she was the picture of modesty as she greeted her in-laws with a respectful nod and a warm smile. Despite the heat of the day, she had changed into a more traditional outfit: a crimson sari with a covered sleeve blouse that hugged her figure just right, showcasing her curves without revealing too much. She had learned the art of balancing attraction with respect, a skill that had earned her the title of the ideal Gupta bahu.
Ashok's aunt, Savita, beamed as she offered Chandrani her blessings. The older woman's eyes lingered on the pallu, the gesture not lost on her. She nodded approvingly before turning her attention to Rehan, showering him with affection. "Look at how much you've grown," she cooed, ruffling his hair.
Ashok's parents, the ever stoic Mr. and Mrs. Gupta, offered their ashirvad with a nod, their eyes flicking to the covered arm and then to their son. Chandrani felt a strange thrill, knowing that she had managed to maintain the facade of purity and respectability, even in the face of the erotic maelstrom that had just played out on the metro.
The evening passed in a blur of family gatherings and catching up with relatives. It was only when Trisha, Ashok's younger sister, bounced in that the tension between the couple eased slightly.
"Bhabhi!" Trisha squealed, jumping up to embrace Chandrani. Her youthful exuberance was a stark contrast to the stifling formality of the household. Dressed in a short dress that barely covered her long, tanned legs, she was a whirlwind of energy and excitement. "You look absolutely gorgeous!" she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling.
Chandrani felt a warmth spread through her as she hugged her sister-in-law back. She had always been fond of Trisha, who had looked up to her since she had first entered the family. With a smile, she asked, "How's the modeling coming along?"
Trisha's cheeks flushed a deep shade of pink. "It's going okay," she mumbled, looking down at her feet. "I had a photoshoot last week."
Chandrani felt a twinge of guilt for her earlier thoughts. "That's wonderful," she said, her voice genuine. "You must show me the pictures when you get a chance."
Trisha's eyes lit up. "Oh, I definitely will," she said, pulling out her phone. "But I actually wanted to talk to you about something else."
Chandrani raised an eyebrow, curious about what could possibly be so important.
Trisha leaned in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Bhabhi, I've been going through your Instagram," she said, her eyes twinkling mischievously.
Chandrani's heart skipped a beat. She had meticulously curated her online presence, a stark contrast to the traditional image she maintained in her in-laws' home. On Instagram, she allowed herself a small slice of freedom, sharing pictures of herself in modern, sometimes even daring, Western attire that showcased her figure with just enough flair to turn heads. She had hoped that her in-laws would never discover this side of her, and the thought of them finding out made her stomach flip with anxiety.
"What pics?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. She cast a furtive glance around the room, making sure no one was within earshot.
"Don't worry, bhabhi," Trisha giggled, her eyes dancing with mischief. "They're just pictures of you looking fabulous."
Chandrani felt a surge of relief wash over her, her heart rate slowing to a more manageable pace. She shot a grateful smile at Ashok, who had been watching the exchange with an amused expression on his face. He knew all too well the double life she led, and the thought of their conservative family discovering it was a source of constant tension.
"Oh, those are just some old photos," she said lightly, trying to brush off Trisha's comment. "Just playing around with the camera."
Trisha's grin grew wider. "No, bhabhi, they're not old. They're from last week!" she exclaimed, scrolling through her phone. "Look at this one, you look like a total diva!"
The screen revealed a picture of Chandrani in a figure-hugging red dress, the asymmetrical neckline showcasing her ample cleavage and her hair cascading down her back in soft waves. The caption beneath read, "Sometimes, you just have to break free from the daily grind and let your inner diva shine through!"
Ashok's eyes widened at the sight, and he couldn't help but feel a flicker of pride mixed with arousal. His wife looked absolutely stunning, a stark contrast to the modest bhabhi everyone knew her as. He had always loved her sense of style and the way she carried herself, and seeing her like this, confident and sexy, made his chest swell with desire.
"It's okay, Trisha," he interjected smoothly, placing a hand on his sister's arm. "Why don't you show Chandrani the pictures later?" He gave her a knowing look that she understood immediately. She grinned back, winking before slipping the phone back into her pocket.
The evening progressed with dinner preparations and more family banter. Chandrani felt the weight of her in-laws' judgmental gaze but carried on, playing her role perfectly. Yet, the image of her in that red dress kept popping into her head, along with the memory of the man's hand on her ass in the metro which no one in this world knows. It was a strange cocktail of fear and excitement, a reminder of the woman she had buried deep inside herself.
Finally, after the exhausting day and the tucking Rehan into bed, Chandrani retreated to the bedroom she shared with Ashok. She slipped into a sleeveless nighty, the fabric whispering against her skin as she moved. The room was dimly lit by the soft glow of the bedside lamp, casting shadows across the walls.
As she approached the bed, she noticed Ashok engrossed in his mobile, the light from the screen casting a harsh contrast on his face. She leaned over his shoulder to see what had captured his attention. To her shock, she realized he was scrolling through her Instagram account. Her heart skipped a beat as she recognized some of the more risqué photos she had posted, the ones that were meant for the eyes of her friends and not her conservative in-laws.
Her hand flew to her mouth as she read a comment that was anything but innocent: "I want to lick that navel," it said, beneath a picture of her in a tight, sleeveless dress, her belly button peeking out teasingly. The comment was from a user with a profile picture of a man in sunglasses, his true identity hidden behind a digital veil of anonymity. Ashok's eyes flicked up to meet hers, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. He scrolled down to another photo, this one taken at a recent fundraising event where she had posed between two foreign dignitaries.
The comment on that one was far more explicit: "Surely got fucked by two bulls at night in both love holes," it read, the crudeness of the words making Chandrani's cheeks burn with a deep crimson. She couldn't believe that someone would say such a thing about her, especially when she had been doing nothing but her duty as a socialite and philanthropist. Yet, as much as she wanted to be outraged, a small part of her was...flattered? No, it was more than that. It was a heady mix of fear and excitement, a taste of the forbidden fruit that she had never allowed herself to sample.
Her hand trembled as she reached out to snatch the phone away from Ashok, but he was quicker. He held it out of her reach, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Let me see," she demanded, trying to keep her voice steady.
He chuckled, his gaze never leaving her flustered face. "Someone has quite the fan club," he said, his tone teasing. "But seriously, baby, you need to be careful with what you post. You never know who's out there."
Chandrani's eyes flashed with annoyance, but she knew he had a point. She had always been so cautious with her social media, but the thought of someone, anyone, fantasizing about her in such a way was both disturbing and oddly thrilling. She reached for the phone, her hand shaking slightly, and read the comments for herself. The words were crude, objectifying, and yet...arousing.. though she was accustomed to such comments and compliments.
"These are just sick, perverted thoughts," she murmured, trying to hand the phone back to him. But Ashok didn't take it. Instead, he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close. She could feel the hardness of his cock pressing against her stomach, and she knew he wasn't as upset as he pretended to be.
"Chandrani," he whispered into her ear, his breath hot and heavy. "You're so beautiful, it's no wonder they can't resist." His voice was filled with a mix of lust and possessiveness that sent a shiver down her spine. "But tonight, you're all mine."
With that, he took the phone from her trembling hands and placed it on the bedside table. He turned her around to face him, his eyes dark with desire as they locked onto hers. Without another word, he reached behind her and unhooked her bra, letting it fall to the floor. Her breasts spilled out, heavy and full, the nipples hardened into tight buds. He took one in his mouth, sucking and teasing it as she moaned, her hands clutching the bedspread.
Ashok's touch was rougher than usual, more urgent. He could feel the heat emanating from her body, the same heat that had drawn that stranger's eyes on the metro. He knew she was hungry for it, craving the kind of passion that had been missing from their love life for years.
Chandrani looked up at him, her eyes smoldering with a need that was unmistakable. "Fuck me," she whispered, her voice thick with desire. "Fuck me like you mean it."
Ashok felt his cock throb in response, his arousal spiking at her sudden aggression. He had never heard his usually demure wife speak so crudely, so bluntly. It was a stark reminder of the woman he had married, the one who had been hidden beneath layers of societal expectations and familial responsibilities. He felt his heart race as he realized that the events of the day had unlocked something within her, something wild and untamed.
He stepped back, allowing her to turn and crawl onto the bed, her ample ass in the air, the sari puddling around her waist. She glanced back at him, her eyes smoldering with a hunger that matched his own. He took a moment to appreciate the sight, her soft curves on display, the dark triangle of her hair peeking out from between her legs. He felt his cock jerk, begging for release, but he knew that he needed to give her what she wanted.
He approached the bed, his eyes never leaving hers as he knelt behind her. She watched him, her breath hitching in anticipation as he positioned himself, the tip of his cock teasing the entrance of her wet pussy. He placed one hand on her hip, the other tangling in her hair, gently pulling her head back. "Is this what you want?" he growled, his voice low and gruff.
"Yes," she moaned, her voice trembling. "Fuck me in doggy style. I want to feel you fill me up, to take me like that."
Ashok's eyes widened at the sudden shift in his usually conservative wife's demeanor. He had never heard her speak so boldly about their sex life, and the thought of her craving something more primal stirred a dormant hunger in him. He knew that when Chandrani was this horny, she would only accept the most intense and passionate of encounters.
He took a moment to appreciate the view as she lay before him, her ass up in the air, begging for his touch. The soft curves of her back and the way her sari had ridden up to expose the round, plump cheeks of her butt made his mouth water. He leaned in, planting a firm hand on her lower back to keep her in place. The anticipation was almost unbearable, the air thick with desire.
As he slid into her, her walls tightening around him, he whispered, "Who do you think about when you're alone, Chandrani?" His voice was a mix of challenge and seduction. He watched her face in the mirror on the opposite wall, her eyes half-closed, biting her bottom lip to keep from crying out.
Her breath hitched, and she opened her eyes to meet his gaze in the reflection. "What do you mean?" she replied, playing coy, her cheeks flushing a deeper shade of pink.
"You know," Ashok said, his voice low and gruff, as he began to thrust deeper into her. "When you're lying in bed at night, touching yourself... who do you think about? Is it me, or is it someone else?" He picked up the pace, his hips slapping against her ass with every forceful push.
Chandrani's eyes widened in the mirror, meeting his gaze. She could feel the heat building up within her, the pleasure mixing with the guilt of her earlier thoughts. "Always you," she gasped, her voice strained with each thrust. But the truth was, she hadn't been able to shake the image of the lecherous men oggling at her or those dirty comments. The way thye had looked at her, the way they had touched her without consent in those page 3 parties, had awoken a hunger she hadn't felt in years.
Ashok's grip tightened on her hip as he drove into her, his other hand reaching around to toy with her clit. "But what about the men you flirt with at the NGO?" he asked, his voice a low rumble. "Or the ones you meet at those fancy parties?"
Chandrani moaned, her eyes fluttering closed as she felt the familiar coil of pleasure begin to build in her belly. She had never told Ashok about the secret desires that sometimes haunted her dreams, the ones where she was taken by a stranger's hands, used and filled until she couldn't think of anything else. It was a guilty pleasure, one she had never allowed herself to indulge in reality.
But now, as he pounded into her, she couldn't help but let those thoughts slip from her mind and roll off her tongue in a whispered confession. "Ashok," she panted, her voice thick with lust, "I won't tell you if any of them...if they've ever..."
Her words trailed off as he slammed into her, his cock hitting her g-spot with every stroke. She bit her lip to keep from crying out, her eyes locking onto his in the mirror. He knew what she was saying, knew the dark path her thoughts had wandered down, and it only served to drive him wilder. "What's that, baby?" he asked, his tone mocking. "You won't tell me if they've had a taste of this sweet pussy?"
As he pounded into her, his hand working her clit with a skilled precision that she hadn't felt in years, she couldn't help but feel a thrill of danger at his words. "You'll never know," she murmured, her voice a seductive purr. "I'll never tell you if I let them have their way with me after the parties."
The words were out before she could stop them, and she watched as Ashok's eyes widened with a mix of shock and arousal. He slammed into her harder, his own orgasm building intensely.
In his mind, he pictured her with those powerful men she had flirted with, their hands on her body, claiming her in a way that he never could. The thought of her with someone else, especially someone like the thug from the metro, filled him with a strange mix of anger and excitement. His strokes grew more erratic as he pondered whether she was imagining it right now, whether she was picturing a rough, anonymous fuck instead of him.
Her moans grew louder, and he watched in the mirror as she threw her head back, her eyes squeezed shut. Was she thinking of another man's cock inside her? Was that what made her so wet, so desperate for release? The idea of her being taken by someone else, used and enjoyed without any concern for propriety or social status, was maddening and incredibly hot at the same time.
With a final, powerful thrust, Ashok reached his peak, his cum spurting out onto her ass cheeks with a force that surprised them both. He collapsed onto the bed beside her, his chest heaving with the effort of his climax. For a moment, they lay there, basking in the afterglow of their intense encounter.
Chandrani couldn't help the smug smile that played on her lips. "Is that all you've got, old man?" she teased, her voice laden with mock disappointment. It was a playful jab at his age and stamina, one that usually earned her a good-natured chuckle from her husband.
But tonight, the words had a bite to them, a hint of the tension that had been simmering between them since the metro incident. Ashok's eyes flashed with something other than amusement. "Oh, you think you need more than that?" he retorted, his tone still light but with a hint of challenge. "Maybe you're just used to those 'deewanas' who don't know when to quit."
The room grew cold with the sudden turn in their banter. Chandrani's smile faltered, and she pushed herself up onto her elbows, her eyes flashing with anger. "What do you mean by that?" she snapped, her voice sharp as a knife.
Ashok realized he had gone too far. The playful teasing had struck a nerve, and he felt a twinge of regret. He reached out to her, his hand gentle on her arm. "I'm sorry, baby," he said, his tone sincere. "It was just a joke."
But Chandrani was not in the mood for apologies. She pulled away from his touch, her eyes blazing. "A joke?" she spat out. "Is that what you think of me? That I'm some sort of...slut who can't get enough?"
The word hung in the air between them, charged with anger and hurt. Ashok felt his chest tighten with regret. He had never meant to make her feel that way, but the words had slipped out in the heat of the moment. "Chandrani," he began, his voice low and soothing, "I didn't mean it like that. I just..."
But she was already rolling over, turning her back to him. The silence was heavy, filled with the unspoken tension that had been building between them. Ashok knew he had to make it right. He reached out, tentatively, and pulled her into his arms, his hands gentle as he cradled her. She stiffened at first, but then she relaxed into his embrace, her body melting against his.
"I'm sorry, Chandrani," he murmured, kissing the top of her head. "I didn't mean to hurt you."
She took a deep breath, her body still trembling with the aftershocks of their intense lovemaking. "It's okay," she whispered, her voice muffled against his chest. "I know you didn't mean it."
Ashok felt the tension in his body ease slightly as she turned to face him, her eyes still filled with a smoldering passion. He leaned down and captured her lips in a gentle kiss, his tongue slipping into her mouth to tangle with hers. Chandrani responded eagerly, her arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him closer.
He knew that he needed to tread carefully. The line between their newfound sexual openness and the reality of their marriage was thin, and he didn't want to push her too far. But the thought of her desire for him was like a drug, making his blood pump faster and his cock swell again. "You know," he whispered against her mouth, "I've noticed the way some of those men look at you. It's like they want to fuck you right then and there."
Chandrani's eyes sparkled with mischief. "Do you think they'd dare?" she asked, her voice a low purr.
Ashok chuckled, his thumb tracing circles on her bare shoulder. "Some of them might," he said, his voice filled with a newfound confidence.
"But they know better than to mess with another man's wife," she replied, her voice filled with a teasing confidence that sent a thrill through him.
"Is that right?" Ashok whispered, his hand moving down to cup her breast. "But what if there was someone who didn't care?" His thumb flicked over her nipple, watching as it hardened beneath his touch.
Chandrani gasped, arching her back, her eyes meeting his in the mirror. "What are you saying?" she asked, her voice breathless.
Ashok leaned down, his breath hot against her ear. "I'm saying, if there's someone you've been thinking about, someone who makes your panties wet just by looking at you...I want to know." His hand slid down to her waist, his fingers digging into her soft flesh. "I want to know who it is, baby."
Chandrani's heart raced at the thought. She had never been so open with her husband, had never allowed herself to admit these dark desires aloud. But tonight was different. The events of the day had unlocked something within her, and she found herself craving the dangerous edge that their conversation was taking. She buried her face in his chest, her voice barely a whisper. "It's just...it's no one. Just...fantasies."
Ashok felt her pulse quicken against his skin, her breath warm and erratic. He knew she was lying, but he also knew that pushing her would only make her retreat further. He kissed her forehead gently, his hand stroking her back soothingly. "It's okay, baby," he murmured. "We all have our fantasies. They're just that...fantasies."
Chandrani looked up at him, her eyes searching his for any hint of anger or judgment. But all she saw was a fierce hunger, a reflection of the passion that she had unleashed in their love making. "You don't mind?" she asked, her voice small and vulnerable.
Ashok leaned in, his nose brushing against hers. "Why would I mind?" he murmured. "As long as you come home to me at the end of the day, as long as I'm the one who makes you scream, who makes your body sing, then whoever you think about is just that...someone in your mind."
He felt her relax against him, her breathing evening out. He kissed her softly, his hand sliding down to her waist. "But if you ever want to act on it," he whispered, his voice a dark promise, "just tell me. I'd love to watch you lose control."
Her eyes snapped to his, the green of them deepening with surprise and a hint of arousal. "What?" she breathed out, her voice trembling.
"You heard me," Ashok said, his eyes never leaving hers. "If there's someone you want, if it's just lust, I want to know. I want to know what makes you wet when you think of them." His hand slid down to the wetness between her legs, and he groaned when he felt how ready she was for more.
Chandrani bit her lip, her heart racing. She had never talked to Ashok this way before, never admitted to the raw, carnivorous desires that sometimes plagued her mind. But the way he was looking at her, the way he touched her, it made her feel like she could tell him anything. "It's just...it's no one," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.
Ashok's hand paused in its exploration of her body, his eyes searching hers. "You can tell me, baby," he coaxed, his voice a gentle rumble. "Who is it? Who makes you so hot?"
Chandrani's cheeks flushed a darker shade of pink, and she averted her gaze, feeling the weight of her secret pressing down on her. "It's just...it's no one you know," she murmured, her voice filled with a mix of embarrassment and desire. "It's just a fantasy. I'd never do it for real. I'm your wife, and I love you. I couldn't betray you like that."
Ashok's eyes searched hers, and he felt a strange mix of emotions: jealousy, arousal, and something else. It was almost like...pride? That his wife, his Chandrani, could stir such passion in others, even if it was just in her mind. "I understand, baby," he said, his voice low and soothing. "But you don't have to hide it from me."
He leaned in closer, his breath hot against her neck. "Tell me," he whispered, his teeth grazing her earlobe. "What does he look like? What does he do to you?"
Chandrani shivered at the question, her body responding despite her efforts to keep her secret hidden. She knew that Ashok was trying to understand her, to be a part of her fantasy world. But she also knew that revealing her true desires could be dangerous. Instead, she chose to dodge the topic, her voice light. "It's just a silly game, Ashok," she said, trying to laugh it off. "You know how my mind works."
He pulled away slightly, his gaze searching her face for any sign of dishonesty. "Chandrani," he said, his tone firm, "I want to know."
Her eyes searched his for a moment, and she could see the desire in his eyes. It was clear that he wasn't just playing along; he truly wanted to share in her darkest thoughts. "It's just a game," she repeated, her voice softer this time. "It doesn't mean anything."
Ashok studied her face, his thumb still tracing lazy circles on her thigh. "Okay," he said finally, his voice filled with a resignation that she didn't miss. "But if you ever want to tell me, I'm here." He kissed her again, and she could feel the tension between them slowly dissipating.
They lay there in silence for a few moments, their bodies still entwined. Chandrani felt the weight of the conversation lift off her shoulders, and she was grateful for his understanding. She knew that their love was strong, that they could handle anything that came their way.
As the tension between them eased, Ashok's eyes grew heavy with sleep. His hand remained on her thigh, his fingers tracing lazy circles as his breathing grew deep and even. Chandrani watched him, feeling a mix of love and desire swell in her chest. She knew that she could tell him anything, but she also knew that some secrets were better left unsaid.
Her mind drifted back to those evenings at the NGO events, the way the politicians and bureaucrats had looked at her, their eyes filled with lust. She had often felt like a piece of meat, displayed for their amusement and pleasure. But she had learned to navigate those treacherous waters, using her charm and wit to get what she needed without giving in to their advances.
Her hand trailed down her belly, her fingers finding the slick wetness between her legs. She imagined it was one of those powerful men touching her, claiming her as their prize. Her breath hitched as she thought of the times she had accompanied them to hotel rooms, playing the seductive game, knowing that they wanted to fuck her brains out. She had always managed to dodge the final act, playing coy with banter about saving herself for a higher bidder at a charity auction.
But the memories of their hands on her, the way they had groped her ass and squeezed her breasts under the guise of innocent touches, filled her with a heady mix of anger and desire. She had allowed it, using her body as a bargaining chip for funding, and now the thought of it had her touching herself, her fingers delving deeper into her folds.
Chandrani's eyes fluttered closed as she remembered the feel of those rough hands on her skin, the smell of their cologne mingling with the stale air of the hotel room. Her breath grew ragged as she imagined the thug from the morning, his calloused hands caressing her ass crack, making her wet despite herself. It was wrong, she knew, but the thrill of it all had her on edge.
Her hand slid further down her body, her fingers finding the slick heat of her arousal. She circled her clit gently, the memory of the thug's grip on her ass sending bolts of pleasure through her. She bit her lip, stifling a moan as she thought of the politician's lecherous gazes, the way they had all but drooled over her. It was a power play, she knew, and she had used her body as a tool to win the game. But now, in the quiet of their bedroom, she couldn't help but wonder if she had enjoyed it a little too much.
Suddenly, a gust of wind blew through the open window, sending a chill down her spine and bringing her back to reality. She snatched her hand away from her pussy as if burned, her eyes flying open. She looked over at Ashok, his eyes closed in sleep, and felt a wash of guilt and embarrassment. She had been lost in a world of her aspirations, and she didn't like the person she saw in the mirror.
Chandrani knew that her flirtations had gone too far at times, but she had always drawn the line at cheating. But the way those men had talked about her, the way they had touched her, it had made her feel desired in a way that Ashok's gentle caresses never could. It was a dirty, twisted feeling, one that made her stomach turn.
As the wind continued to rustle the curtains, she turned to look at her sleeping husband. He was oblivious to the storm brewing in her mind, his face serene in the soft glow of the moonlight. She reached out, her hand trembling, and lightly stroked his cheek. "I'm sorry," she murmured, her voice filled with regret. "I'm so sorry for what I've done."
Ashok stirred slightly, his eyes fluttering open. He looked at her with a sleepy smile. "What is it, baby?" he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep.
Chandrani took a deep breath, her heart pounding in her chest. She knew she had to tell him. "It's nothing," she whispered, her voice hoarse with emotion. "Just...just hold me, okay?"
Ashok pulled her closer, his arms wrapping around her tightly. He could feel her shaking, and he knew that something was wrong. But he didn't push her. He knew that she would tell him when she was ready. For now, he was content to just be there for her, to offer her the comfort she so desperately needed.
As they lay there, Chandrani's thoughts continued to whirl. She had never admitted her true feelings before, never allowed herself to be vulnerable in front of Ashok. But the guilt and the desire were too much to bear alone. She leaned her head against his chest, listening to the steady thump of his heart.
"Ashok," she murmured, her voice shaking slightly. "There's something I need to tell you."
Her husband stirred, his arms tightening around her. "What is it?" he asked, his voice thick with sleep.
"Nothing," she lied, her voice barely above a whisper.
Ashok's arms tightened around her for a moment before he relaxed, his eyes closing again. She knew he didn't believe her, but he was too tired to argue. Chandrani lay there, her mind racing with the dark secrets she hadn't shared. She had been so close to telling him everything—about the times she had been cornered by those men, the way their hands had roamed her body without permission, the sickening feeling of powerlessness she had felt. But she had held back, not wanting to burden him with the reality of the world she had to navigate for her own aspiration and also political ambition.
Sympathy filled her as she gazed at his peaceful face. He was a good man, a loving husband and father. He didn't deserve to know the truth of the games she played to survive in her world. She knew he had his own insecurities and fears, and she didn't want to add to them. But she couldn't help the bitter taste in her mouth as she thought of the powerlessness she had felt in those moments, the way those influential men had treated her like a toy to be used and discarded.
With a heavy sigh, she leaned over and kissed Ashok softly on the cheek, her lips lingering for a moment. He stirred slightly, a contented smile playing on his lips, and she felt a pang of love for him. Despite his flaws, he was hers, and she would protect him from the ugliness she had seen.
The room was still, their breathing the only sound in the darkness. She snuggled closer to him, feeling the warmth of his body against hers. Her hand slid down to rest on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath her palm. As she closed her eyes, she imagined herself telling him everything—the lecherous looks, the groping hands, the fear and disgust she had felt. But she knew that he would be powerless to stop it, that he would feel as trapped as she had. So she kept her secret, letting the guilt and anger simmer just below the surface.
The wind outside grew stronger, and she shivered, her mind drifting to the cold, hard reality of the world she had created for herself. She had used her sexuality to climb the social ladder, to get what she wanted without ever truly giving in. But at what cost? The thought of those men taking her, using her, with Ashok forced to watch, made her stomach turn. Yet she loved him, loved him enough to keep her darkest moments to herself.
With a heavy heart, she leaned over and whispered, "I love you, Ashok," her voice barely a breath in the quiet night. She knew he was too far gone to hear her, lost in a world where she was still the innocent woman he had married. She kissed his cheek, the stubble rough against her lips, and felt a tear slip down her own.
If she told him the truth, that she had been used and objectified by those very men she had invited into their lives for their ambitions, what would he do? Would he storm into their offices, demanding justice? Would he be able to look at her the same way, knowing that she had allowed herself to be soiled in the pursuit of power? She doubted it. He was a good man, but not a fighter. He had never had to be.
With a heavy heart, she leaned over and whispered, "I'm sorry," against his cheek, her breath warm and soft. He stirred slightly in his sleep, his arm tightening around her waist. She knew he had his own insecurities, his own fears about her and their marriage. The last thing she wanted to do was give him a reason to doubt her love or her faithfulness. So she held her tongue and kissed him, her lips lingering on his, tasting the salt of her own tears.
One week later, on a lazy Sunday afternoon, Ashok announced that he had received an invitation from some potential business investors. They had arranged a meeting at an upscale restaurant downtown, and he was thrilled at the opportunity to expand business of his company. Chandrani listened with a forced smile, her stomach knotting as she thought of the evening ahead. She had also received an invitation, but to a different kind of event—a party at Jorawar Khan's mansion, a man whose influence could make or break their social standing.
"I can't come with you," she said, her voice slightly strained. "But I'll take a cab and meet you at the restaurant afterward."
Ashok nodded, trying not to let his disappointment show. "Okay, I'll see you there, then." he know its futile to argue with chandrani. He watched as Chandrani began to get ready, his eyes lingering on the noodle strap blouse she had chosen to wear. It was a bold choice, one that showcased her toned shoulders and the swell of her breasts. He couldn't help but feel a twinge of pride, knowing that she would be the center of attention at the party.
He had noticed the shaving kit in the bathroom that morning, and now the pieces fell into place. It was clear she had planned to wear this outfit for Jorawar's party, not just for him. The thought of her using her sex appeal to win over the influential men at the party sent a jolt of arousal through him. He had to admit, the idea of her dressed like this, playing the seductive hostess, had him intrigued. It was a side of her he had never seen before, and it stirred something primal within him.
As she slipped into the chiffon sari, the fabric clinging to her curves, he couldn't help but imagine the looks she would get from the other men. The way they would eye her, lustfully, the way they would whisper about her when they thought she wasn't listening. It was a thrilling thought, one that had him adjusting his own attire to ensure he looked every bit the proud husband. He watched as she tied her hair back in a bun, the nape of her neck exposed, making her look vulnerable yet powerful.
"You know," he began, his voice low and teasing, "you're going to give those old fogeys at the dinner a heart attack."
Chandrani looked over at him with a smirk, her hand pausing in the act of securing an earring. "Is that so?" she asked, her voice laden with playful challenge.
Ashok's eyes swept over her, taking in the way the sari clung to her curves, the hint of bare skin at her waist. "Yes," he said, his voice gruff with desire. "You're going to be the talk of the town."
Chandrani's smirk grew wider, and she stepped closer to him, her hand sliding down to trace the outline of his erection through his pants. "And what about you?" she whispered, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "What will you do when you see all those jealous wives eyeing their husbands looking at me?"
Ashok groaned, his hips jerking slightly at her touch. "I'll remind them all that you're mine," he murmured, his eyes darkening with lust. "And tonight, when we're alone, I'm going to fuck you until you can't walk straight."
The promise in his voice sent a shiver down Chandrani's spine. She stepped closer, her breasts brushing against his chest. "Is that so?" she whispered, her voice husky with desire. "And what if I want you right now?"
Ashok's eyes glinted with challenge. "Then you'll have to be quick," he said, his hand sliding down to cup her ass. "Because if I start, I might not be able to stop."
Chandrani giggled, her body responding to his touch despite the tension in the room. She knew that she had to leave soon, that every second she lingered here with him was a second closer to being caught. But the thought of his hands on her, of the raw passion in his eyes, had her heart racing. She leaned in, her mouth finding his, their kiss deep and hungry.
The sound of Rehan's laughter in the hallway was like a cold shower, snapping them out of their momentary reverie. Chandrani pulled back, her eyes wide with panic. "Ashok," she whispered urgently, her hand pressing against his chest. "They'll see me like this."
Ashok smirked, his eyes gleaming with mischief. He stepped back, his hand sliding down her side, tracing the bare skin before resting on her hip. "What's the big deal?" he asked, his voice low and teasing.
Chandrani felt a flush creep up her neck as she looked down at her outfit. The sari and noodle strap blouse was indeed more revealing than what she would normally wear around the house. "It's just..." she began, her voice trailing off.
"What?" Ashok prompted, his own eyes traveling down her body, taking in every inch of exposed skin. He knew that she had chosen this outfit with care, that she had wanted to look her best for the party. The realization that she was deliberately flaunting her sexuality had his cock thickening in his pants, and he couldn't resist the urge to play along.
Chandrani's blush deepened as she met his gaze. "It's just...I don't think it's appropriate for Rehan to see me like this," she murmured, her hand self-consciously touching the neckline of her blouse. "Or for the governess to gossip."
Ashok's smirk grew wider. He knew exactly what she was getting at. He stepped closer, his hand sliding around her waist. "But why would you care what they think?" he asked, his voice a low purr. "You're my wife, and if I want to see you dressed like this, then that's all that matters."
Chandrani felt a thrill run through her at his words. It was true; she had dressed to impress, to show off her assets. But the thought of their son and the governess seeing her like this was mortifying. "Ashok," she whispered, her cheeks flushing a deep red. "You know we can't."
Ashok's smirk grew into a full-blown grin as he stepped closer, his hand sliding down to cup her ass cheek. "Why not?" he challenged, his voice low and seductive. "You look beautiful, and I want everyone to see it."
Chandrani's blush deepened as she stepped back, trying to put some distance between them. "Ashok," she scolded, her voice barely above a whisper. "We can't do this now."
But he was undeterred, his hand sliding up her back to tug at the strap of her blouse. "Why not?" he murmured, his eyes never leaving hers. "They're all going to be talking about you tonight anyway."
The mention of the party, of Jorawar and the other men, sent a fresh wave of desire through Chandrani. She knew that what she was about to do was wrong, that it would only feed the rumor mills. But she couldn't help herself. With a gasp, she allowed Ashok to pull her closer, her breasts pressing against his chest. His hands were everywhere, cupping her ass, sliding up her sides, his thumbs brushing against her hardened nipples.
"Ashok," she whispered, her voice a plea. "We can't. Rehan is right outside."
He knew she was right, but the desire was too strong to ignore. With a frustrated sigh, he stepped back, his hand dropping from her blouse. "Fine," he said, his voice gruff with need. "But remember, tonight full of action."
Chandrani nodded, her eyes glazed with desire. "I know," she murmured, her hand reaching up to cup his cheek. "ok..baba."
Ashok watched her go, his eyes lingering on the sway of her hips. He knew she was playing a dangerous game, but he couldn't help the thrill that shot through him at the thought of her dressed like that, using her beauty to manipulate the powerful men at the party. It was a side of her he had never seen before, and it was intoxicating.
With a sigh, he turned his attention to Rehan and the governess, forcing a smile onto his face as he herded them out the door. They chattered away, oblivious to the storm of emotions brewing inside him. As he drove to the restaurant, his thoughts drifted back to those whispers he had heard at past events. The way the men had talked about Chandrani, their leers and nudges, had always made his blood boil. But now, with her dressed so provocatively, the rumors took on a new dimension.
He tried to shake them off, telling himself that she was faithful, that she was his. But the memory of her hand on his erection, her willingness to give in to their passion despite their son's presence, made him question her intentions. Was she really as innocent as she claimed, or was she playing a more dangerous game?
As he parked the car and stepped out into the cool evening air, he couldn't help but remember the way she had looked at him before she left, a mix of defiance and desire. It was a look that said she knew exactly what she was doing and that she was in control.
The drive to the restaurant was a blur of traffic lights and honking horns, but all Ashok could think about was the rumor mill that had been churning at the last party he had attended with Chandrani. He had overheard whispers of her and Jorawar, the powerful politician whose patronage could make or break their social and professional aspirations. They had talked about her late-night meetings, the way she would laugh at Jorawar's jokes, her hand lingering just a moment too long on his arm. It had made his blood boil then, but now, knowing she was dressed to kill and headed to that den of wolves, it was all he could think about.
He had seen the way Jorawar looked at her, his eyes raking over her body, his smile predatory. And he had heard the lewd jokes, the not-so-subtle hints about what she had to do to secure those coveted funds for her NGO. It had made him feel powerless, and he had hated it. But now, with her dressed like that, the memory of those whispers took on a new dimension. Was she playing a game? Did she enjoy the power she wielded?
As he walked into the restaurant, the cool air conditioning doing little to cool the heat of his thoughts, he was greeted by the smell of spices and the clink of glasses. The dinner party was in full swing, and the other guests looked up as he entered. They all knew him, of course—his family's reputation had preceded him—but tonight, all eyes were on him. Where was Chandrani? The question hung in the air, unspoken but palpable.
He forced a smile as he took his seat, the fabric of his shirt sticking to his sweaty back. The small talk and polite enquiries about his wife's whereabouts grated on his nerves. "She's busy," he said, his voice tight. "She'll join us later."
The evening dragged on, the laughter and clinking of silverware a cacophony in his ears. He couldn't focus on the business discussions, his mind racing with images of Chandrani. Was she at Jorawar's party, playing the coy seductress? The thought sent a shiver of arousal down his spine, mingled with a darker emotion he didn't dare name.
Each time his phone buzzed, he hoped it was her, explaining, reassuring him. But it remained silent, the screen taunting him with her last message. He excused himself from the table, stepping outside for a moment's respite from the oppressive atmosphere of forced joviality. The cool night air washed over him, but it did nothing to ease his growing anxiety.
"Is everything alright, Ashok?" one of the investors asked, noticing his distraction.
He nodded, forcing a smile. "Just a bit of... indigestion," he lied, patting his stomach. "Chandrani isn't feeling well. She won't be able to make it tonight."
The man nodded sympathetically, and the conversation moved on, but Ashok's thoughts remained consumed by his wife. He excused himself again, his phone vibrating in his pocket. This time, it was a text message from Chandrani. "Sorry, Ashok. I won't be able to make it to dinner. Something came up at the party. I'll go home directly. Love you," it read. His heart sank, but he replied with a calmness that surprised even him. "Take care. See you soon."
He took a deep breath and returned to the dinner, plastering a smile on his face as he retook his seat. The evening's festivities were in full swing, the air thick with the scent of exotic spices and the clinking of fine china. He forced himself to engage in the conversations around him, nodding and smiling at all the right moments. But with each passing minute, the knot in his stomach grew tighter.
As the dinner wound down, the questions about Chandrani's absence grew more pointed. "Is she okay?" one of the investors asked, genuine concern etched on his face.
"Oh, yes," Ashok replied, the lie sticking in his throat. "Just a bit of a headache."
Once home, Ashok found the house eerily quiet. The scent of Rehan's shampoo lingered in the hallway, a gentle reminder of the life that awaited him beyond the shadows of his own thoughts. Meera, their governess, emerged from Rehan's room, her expression a picture of innocent concern. "How was dinner?" she asked, her eyes darting to the clock on the wall.
"It was fine," Ashok lied, his voice tight with the weight of his suspicion. "Chandrani had to stay back at the party. She's not feeling well."
Meera nodded sympathetically, her eyes flickering with understanding. She had seen the way Chandrani dressed before she left, the blatant sexuality she exuded in her attire. "I'll check on Rehan before I go," she offered, her voice a soft murmur.
Ashok nodded, his eyes following her as she disappeared into their son's room. The quiet of the house was unsettling, the weight of his thoughts pressing down on him. When she emerged a few minutes later, her expression was one of innocent concern. "He's asleep," she said softly. "Is there anything else you need?"
"No, Meera," he replied, his voice tight. "Thank you."
Meera nodded and slipped away, leaving Ashok alone with his thoughts. He made his way to the living room and poured himself a generous glass of scotch, the amber liquid glinting in the soft light. He took a deep swig, letting the warmth spread through him like a balm, trying to ease the ache in his chest. The house was so quiet without Chandrani's laughter, without her gentle chiding of Rehan, without the comforting sounds of her cooking in the kitchen.
He walked over to the window, the curtains fluttering slightly in the breeze. He watched the city lights flicker in the distance, the sounds of traffic muffled by the thick panes of glass. The scotch burned a path down his throat, a bittersweet reminder of his own powerlessness. He picked up his phone and called Chandrani again, his thumb hovering over her name. But the line went straight to voicemail. He clenched his jaw, his mind racing with images of her and Jorawar, her dressed in that damn blouse and sari that screamed temptation.
Ashok couldn't help but feel a twisted sense of pride, mixed with anger and fear. He knew she had dressed that way for the party, to play the seductive hostess, to win over the men who held the keys to her NGO's success.
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