Adultery An Indian Wedding

[Maleficio]

NOTE: I am not the original author of this story. This story is collected from net. All credit goes to the original author of this story.

[Maleficio]

When the telephone rang, I uncertainly picked up the receiver, still lost in thought about my cousin brother’s impending marriage. I wasn’t sure whether I would be able to attend it or not.

That morning, my husband—a computer engineer working in the U.S.—had told me that his leave had not been sanctioned due to pressing work commitments. He wouldn’t be able to join me. That meant I would have to travel to India alone and return by myself. The thought left me feeling desperate. I was longing to attend the wedding.

My Mousi had called the previous day to remind me and had insisted that I come. She sounded sad that her daughter—my cousin sister Cheenu—would not be able to attend. Cheenu had migrated to Canada quite recently, and returning so soon was nearly impossible. The airfare was expensive, and with the festival season in full swing, tickets were scarce and heavily overbooked.

I had no choice but to go. As a happily married woman, I was expected to perform all the customary rituals that could only be carried out by someone in my position. Another reason was that I was simply bored with life in the States. My husband was a complete workaholic; he spent far more time in front of his computer than with me. Even if I walked around nude in front of him, he would remain glued to his laptop, busy programming.

I had married an IIT graduate who was also a green card holder—the most sought-after “Mr. Nice Guy” back in India. My father had even pledged his life insurance policy to meet the dowry demands. In contrast, my elder sister had been married to a government employee in India. At that time, my father wasn’t earning much, and my sister wasn’t as educated as I was.

Just as I was expecting a call from my mother, I heard Jijaji’s voice on the line instead. I was surprised. He was spending a small fortune to make an international call from his new mobile phone.

“Oh, Reenu, is that you? Arre yaar,” he said enthusiastically, “I just bought a mobile. My very first call is to you!”

“Oh, Jijaji! How nice to hear that you have your own mobile now. I’m at your service,” I replied playfully.

“Reenu, what kind of service can you offer your Jijaji?” he asked in a mischievous, hilarious tone.

He had always been a cheerful person and never missed a chance to pat my buttocks whenever no one was around. Though it sometimes troubled me, I couldn’t deny that it excited me too. I still remembered the time he had pressed them and teasingly remarked that I wasn’t wearing any panties underneath. But that was an old story.

“I’m calling you first from my new mobile, Reenu. I haven’t even called my wife yet. I’m calling from the office,” he continued.

“Okay, so tell me—what’s the matter? How is everyone? How is Cheenu? Thanks for remembering your saali.”

“Cheenu isn’t here, yaar. She has gone to her mother’s house,” he replied.

“So you remembered me only because Cheenu is away?” I teased.

“No, dear Reenu. I think about you quite often. In fact, I miss you a lot. How’s your American life? When are you going to give our family a boy?”

Boy! I wasn’t even pregnant. And to get pregnant, one needed to have sex—something my husband hardly had time for. But I couldn’t tell him that. “Don’t tease me, Jijaji. We’ve just been married. Let us enjoy life for a while. Boy or girl can come later—let me settle down here first,” I said.

“Okay, okay. So when are you coming for the wedding? Everyone is expecting you. Is your husband coming too?”

“I will come anyway, but my husband isn’t. He couldn’t get leave.”

“So both your husband and my wife are skipping the marriage. That’s very nice,” Jijaji commented with a chuckle. “Cheenu has been away for the past two weeks, yaar. Your Jijaji is now on a fast in her absence. If this continues, I may have to start eating outside.”

He always spoke in double meanings, and the ladies adored him for it.

“Don’t be naughty, Jijaji. Cheenu will come back soon. Homely food is never contaminated, but outside food always carries that risk,” I replied.

“Don’t worry, yaar. Your Jijaji always wears a condom to prevent contamination. Don’t you know?” he shot back.

That remark instantly took me back to an incident from the past. It was shortly after Cheenu’s delivery. I was helping her look after the newborn. One day, I noticed a strange “balloon” hanging among the clothes on the drying line. I picked it up and examined it. It was filled with a milky, glue-like substance and had a peculiar smell—like raw ladies’ fingers (okra). When I showed it to Cheenu and asked what it was, she turned pale, snatched it from my hand, and flushed it down the toilet. That was when she first explained condoms to me. Later, she must have told Jijaji about it, because he had teased me mercilessly: “Saali, Cheenu told me you took some glue from a balloon in our room. If you ever need glue, just contact your Jijaji. I’m always at your service.” My face had burned with embarrassment.

He went on asking about my travel plans and the wedding arrangements, then ended the call, mindful that international mobile calls were expensive. I relaxed on my posh sofa, took a sip of French wine, and let my thoughts drift into the past.

Memories of my elder cousin Cheenu, my Jiju Ravi, and the time we spent together flooded my mind. Cheenu and I had stayed in Nainital for our studies. There were running jokes in the family that, being the youngest cousin, I would eventually have to “take care” of both my Jijas. The bawdy banter between my mom, my mausi (mother’s elder sister), and my mami (aunty) played like a film before my eyes.

My mother had been married very young, as was the custom in those days—women were married off as soon as they reached puberty. She was barely sixteen when she got married, and exactly nine months later, my elder sister was born. I was the second child. Coming from a village background, my mother wasn’t highly educated. She and her sisters spoke in a bold, bawdy language filled with sexual references and double meanings. They were extroverted and never hesitated to include me in their jokes.

My mother was the youngest among her sisters. Her manjhali mausi was only a year older, while the eldest was four years older. All three of them loved indulging in the raunchiest jokes and songs. When my mother visited Nainital, my mami would first greet her with a string of colorful abuses (gallis) before offering her water. My mother would happily return the favor in the same coin.

Whenever only the ladies were around, their conversations revolved around sex and neighborhood gossip—who was sleeping with whom. My mother’s only brother was married, and she was easily the bawdiest of them all. She freely used countryside slang—words like “cunt” and “pussy”—without any hesitation. Unlike city girls who learned about sex from Mills & Boon novels, I received my sexual education early through these uninhibited conversations.

They never addressed each other by their maiden names, but as “mother of so-and-so.” When I was around, I would hear things like “Reenu ki mummy” (Reenu’s mom). My mami would welcome my mother with, “Arre, Reenu ki mummy pakki chinar aa gayi!” (Reenu’s mom, the top slut, has arrived!). My mother would fire back, “Reenu ki mami badi chudavsi hai—unki bur mein 10-10 yaar ghus jaate hain!” (Reenu’s aunty is a top fucker; ten lovers at a time disappear into her cunt!).

It wasn’t just talk. They would hug each other warmly, and my mother would inevitably squeeze my mami’s breasts or pinch her hips, saying, “It looks like there was some serious fucking last night—see how these boobs have swollen in my brother’s hands!” My mami would laugh and reply, “Why not? Your brother is ready to fuck me even in front of you. Last time at the wedding, he took me right in the toilet while the other ladies were waiting outside to pee!”

We also had a servant named Champa, a village woman who was a walking encyclopedia of local scandals and gossips.

[Maleficio]

My uncle was a naughty man too. He would pat my mother’s ass and her elder sisters’ bottoms in the same playful way he handled his own wife. He had no hesitation in pressing my aunty’s milky breasts even in front of others. 

My aunty was a woman who always seemed to be sweating. Her blouse and petticoat were perpetually soaked in sweat and kitchen grime. Even in winter, her armpits would be drenched. My uncle was extremely fond of her sweaty body and would often sniff her wet armpits whenever he found her working in the kitchen. He never cared what anyone thought of him. The women in the house were well aware of his obsession with my aunty’s damp armpits and often teased him about it.

Whenever my mother wanted to tease him, she would say that aunty had just finished some heavy work and was now completely soaked. In response, my uncle would pull my mother onto his lap and tease her back. Sometimes he would innocently pinch my mami on her hips, claiming there was an ant crawling there. When my elder sister visited, my mother and aunty would gang up on her and cup her plump buttocks. In our house, wet and bawdy words were never taboo—they were simply part of everyone’s everyday vocabulary. Sex, in one form or another, was omnipresent.

My aunty was a carefree soul and largely responsible for this open atmosphere. She was extremely caring and loving, yet she loved teasing even the children. She had a habit of checking our developing breasts and commenting on their growth. When my mother or mausi were not around, she would use her colorful vocabulary freely with us. Champa, the servant woman—who was an expert at massages—always supported her.

When the men had left after lunch and the ladies had some free time, my aunty would head to the old tamarind tree in the courtyard. A wooden cot was always kept there for people to relax under the cool shade. Aunty would casually remove her blouse and lie down like a wrestler. Champa would bring a pot of gingelly oil and begin massaging her for nearly an hour.

I had often seen Champa massaging my aunty’s enormous, glistening breasts, coated generously with gingelly or mustard oil depending on the season. When Cheenu and I were in the eighth standard, aunty would teasingly sing, “Reenu’s pussy has started growing hair… Cheenu’s breasts are bigger than Reenu’s… Cheenu will be a better fuck because she has much more hair on her moth!”

At that age, we didn’t fully understand words like cunt, pussy, or phallus. Yet aunty would openly comment on our developing bodies even in front of my mother and mausi, and everyone would burst into laughter.

One day, I asked Champa bhabhi (we also called her bhabhi, just like my mother and mausi did, and she loved teasing her young nanads), “Champa, why do you keep saying ‘cunt’? What is that?”

She laughed heartily, lifted my skirt, and pointed at my vagina. “Reenu, cunt means this whole part of your body. Cheenu already has a lot of hair there. When girls grow older, hair starts growing. Don’t worry, you’ve also started becoming hairy. See your little pussy triangle—it’s still flat, no? But look at mine.”

She lifted her own skirt and showed me her milky-white pussy. It was completely shaved and smooth. I was amazed—this was the first time I had seen an adult woman’s pussy up close. It looked big, shaped like a triangle, with a dark channel running down the middle like the bisector line our teacher had drawn in geometry.

“Champa, you have no hair there, but you’re grown up, right?” I asked innocently.

Champa laughed again and explained that she shaved her pubis to stay cool in the scorching heat. She also hinted that my aunty sometimes did the same. Then I asked her the meaning of “chudavathi,” a word they used so often.

“Do you want to become a chudavathi?” she teased, then explained, “Chudavathi means a woman who has been properly fucked by a man. Fucking means a man puts his large penis inside our vagina.”

I felt ashamed and tried to pull away, but my mami joined in, held me gently while giggling, and said, “Reenu, don’t be ashamed. There’s nothing to feel shy about. Champa is a chudavathi, your aunty is a chudavathi, and your mother is also a chudavathi. Unless we all get this chudai (poking), how could we have such beautiful children like you?”

Champa giggled and playfully pinched my budding breasts.

My uncle and aunty indulged in sex at every possible opportunity, completely oblivious to the two growing teenage girls in the house. Our room was right next to theirs. Every night, once the house fell silent and dark, we would hear aunty’s loud moans and the rhythmic creaking of the bed. We had a fair idea of what was happening.

I still remember one incident very vividly. I was in the tenth standard. Cheenu had gone to her parents’ place, so I was alone. It was winter; evenings arrived early. My college closed earlier than usual that day, and I came home unexpectedly. Aunty was busy somewhere, so I went straight to my room and slipped into bed because it was very cold and gloomy.

When I woke up, I heard strange sounds. I quietly opened my door a little. The electricity had gone out, and in the dim light, I saw aunty bent over, held firmly by uncle. Neither of them could see me. Aunty was whispering urgently, “Not here… Reenu will come home any moment. Hey, leave me—let’s go to the bedroom.”

Uncle teased her, “Arre, Reenu must still be in college. We’re all alone. What difference does it make? I’m feeling so hot after your five-day break.” I understood the reference—he was impatient for normal intercourse because aunty had been on her period. I had often seen Champa burning the red-stained cloths that were tied tightly between aunty’s legs during those days.

Assuming I was still at college, aunty gave in. She too seemed horny. Women are often extra aroused right after their periods end. Though she protested meekly that they should move to the bedroom, her resistance was mostly symbolic. With one hand grabbing her heavy breasts, uncle lifted her skirt and said he couldn’t wait any longer. He stripped her quickly and mounted her from behind like an ox mounting a cow.

I stood transfixed. I could clearly see his tight buttocks clenching as they slapped against aunty’s fat buttocks with a rhythmic “phus-phus” sound. Aunty’s face glowed with pleasure. Every time he squeezed her breasts, she let out soft, joyful moans. Soon the pounding grew frantic. Aunty was moving in perfect rhythm with him.

“What happened to you today? You’re in such a great mood!” she asked breathlessly.

In reply, uncle pulled his organ almost completely out and slammed it back in with one powerful thrust. “I’ve been hungry for five full days. I know you’re hungry too—to feel my cock deep inside your fuddy (pussy).”

“If you’re doing this now, what will we do at night?” she teased.

Instead of answering, uncle slipped his hand between her thighs and squeezed her clit. Aunty let out a loud moan that only inflamed his passion further. He told her that since no one was home, he wanted to fuck her right there in the verandah so they could watch if anyone approached. To my surprise, aunty readily agreed. They moved to the open verandah completely naked. Aunty lay on the floor with her legs spread wide while uncle rammed his big cock into her fuddy.

They had no idea I was inside the house. From my window, I could see everything clearly. They were only watching for someone coming from outside and never imagined I was watching from within. The scene went on and on. I stood there mute, not realizing when my own hand had slipped inside my skirt and I was gently caressing myself over my panty.

Only after they finished and I came back to my senses—realizing I had just witnessed my first live fucking and was almost wet—did I quietly tiptoe back to bed.

Aunty returned sometime later and was shocked to see me there. But when she thought I was fast asleep, she relaxed. She placed tea on the table and gently woke me up. I smiled and sipped the tea. Later, I joined her in the kitchen to help with dinner. She said she planned to sleep early.

“Why so early?” I asked.

“Your uncle is very hungry,” she replied.

I smiled impishly and dared to ask, “Why, aunty? Wasn’t his hunger satisfied with the evening fiesta?”

Aunty looked at me in surprise. She immediately understood what I meant. “So you were here?!” 

“No, aunty, I didn’t see anything,” I pretended innocently.

She picked up the rolling pin in mock anger and said, “One day, when someone puts his penis inside your pussy, you’ll understand what real hunger is!”

That evening, since the power was still out, we had dinner by candlelight. Aunty ate quickly, eager to retire to the bedroom. I could barely suppress my laughter, knowing exactly why uncle was in such a hurry. Seeing my mischievous smile, aunty blushed deeply. She now knew for certain that I had watched them fucking in the verandah.

When I returned to my room, aunty followed me with two candles. She lit one and handed me the other—a real thick, huge one. Winking at me, she made a circle with her thumb and index finger, then pushed the candle through it, imitating the motion of a penis entering a pussy.

“Reenu, you can watch us if you want,” she said with a naughty smile. “And use this big candle in your pussy—it will feel very exciting. But first, apply some Vaseline, stretch properly, and spread your legs well.”

[Maleficio]

That night, even though the lights were out, they didn’t bother closing the window. I could hear not only the moaning and the creaking of the bed, but also my aunty talking loudly, giving him instructions as if she were doing a live radio commentary.

“Bite my boobs… Yes, fuck me like that… Put your fat lund deep into my pussy.”

She was describing everything in vivid detail. I was convinced that aunty knew I was listening and was deliberately giving me a detailed description.

From the next day onward, aunty and I became much closer. There was no longer any curtain of shyness between us. She taught both Cheenu and me how to measure our breasts properly — and it was never done over our clothes. She would make us strip completely naked, then inspect our growth almost every day when we were alone. Cheenu would feel shy about being naked in front of aunty, but I would join in and help strip her too. Soon after, both of us were taken to buy our first teen bras.

Once, I entered her room and noticed a special bottle of women’s body oil. “Hey, what is this for?” I asked. Aunty giggled at first, then became serious. “It’s for the most important place, dear. This is a herbal oil prepared by my mother. It’s the secret behind my big breasts.” She proudly lifted her enormous, football-like boobs for me to see. No wonder my uncle was crazy about her.

She explained that for a girl, breasts are the most important asset — the one thing that drives men wild. So a girl must take proper care of them. She offered me some of her oil so that I too could develop bigger breasts. Then she made me lift my kurta and gently massaged the oil into my budding breasts.

“You are at the perfect age for this,” she said. “If you don’t take care now, later you’ll start worrying, but by then the best time for development will be gone.”

When my mother visited, the two sisters discussed it openly. Mom immediately bought a breast massager for both Cheenu and me. By this time we were in the eleventh standard.

I had already learned how to touch myself. A friend who was quite experienced had taught me how to caress my labia and rub my clit properly. I had also secretly read books on oral sex and various positions that I found hidden in mami’s room. I would discuss all of it with Cheenu. She was an eager listener, but when it came to active participation, she would always get cold feet. Knowing her shy nature, I loved teasing her — I would suddenly lift her frock and squeeze her over her panty.

Then the winter vacation began. It was time for the big family reunion. Since we couldn’t travel because of our exams, everyone came to our house one by one — my parents, my mother’s elder sisters, and finally the eldest sister of my mother.

When I bent down to touch her feet, she lifted me up and exclaimed to mami, “Arre, Reenu has become a full woman! Look at her breasts — how taut and well-rounded they are!” Without hesitation, she squeezed my breasts firmly. Showing them to mami, she continued, “Such perfect, globe-like tits. I think some boy has already handled them. Otherwise, how could they become so beautifully rounded with nipples standing out like cherries?”

I was completely taken aback. She giggled and added, “Arre, I only meant they make you look really beautiful. Don’t get embarrassed.” Even while speaking, she kept caressing and fondling them.

“No, Mousi, I won’t allow any boy to touch me there. I’m not like that,” I defended myself.

My eldest mausi laughed and hugged me tightly. “Don’t worry, dear. I was just teasing you, little devil. But there’s nothing wrong in letting someone press your boobs at this age. If not boys, then let girls do it. It’s the best time to massage them — it helps them develop beautifully. Do you know your mother and I started caressing each other’s breasts when we were your age? That’s why we have better boobs than any of our other sisters.”

She continued fondling my young teen breasts and said, “This is called choonchiya uthana. This is the best age to enjoy them. You can flaunt them, show them to boys — they will do what is known as chakshu chodan. Even before anyone touches your body, you’ll be giving joy to so many. Never hide them completely. If you must cover them, hide them only partly.”

Just then my mother walked in and said, “What’s happening here? Leave my daughter alone. You’re at your old tricks again!”

Mom was surprised to see how large my breasts had become. She quickly looked away, but my elder mausi was still pinching my nipples and reluctant to let go. “I was only comparing her breasts with my own daughter’s,” she said. Her daughter Neelu was also staring at my breasts with special interest.

Mom pretended to be angry and said, “Okay, don’t cast your evil eye on my pretty daughter.” She told me to pull my shirt back down.

Meanwhile, Neelu didi — our eldest cousin — arrived. We hugged each other warmly, and I quickly dragged her to my room.

Neelu was the most mature among us. She had spent most of her time in Punjab and behaved like a typical Punjabi kudi — bold and village-style. She had the most “experience” and loved telling the bawdiest jokes and teaching us clever ways to tease boys. Because her mother lived far away, they visited only two or three times a year.

She hugged me again, almost measuring my breasts, and exclaimed, “Ooooh, Reenu! Your tits have become ripe for handling. How did they grow so big in just one year? Are you massaging them?”

I laughed and said, “No, no, Neelu didi.”

She squeezed them again and asked my size. “32C,” I replied.

“Perfect size for boys to handle,” she exclaimed. “Men will die for breasts like these. Now come inside the quilt and let me have a closer look.”

She pushed me under the quilt, lifted my skirt, and squeezed my cunt over my panty. “Hey, do you touch yourself here?” she asked.

I couldn’t lie to Neelu didi, so I admitted hesitantly, “Yes…”

She looked pleased and pressed her fingers harder. “Okay, you’ve progressed a bit. Let’s see how much!”

But she didn’t stop there. She took my hand and guided it to her own pussy. “Now show me how you do it.” She lowered her panties and let my fingers slip inside. I was trembling — it was broad daylight — but Neelu didi was not the least bit bothered.

When my fingers reached her pussy, I was surprised to find it completely smooth — not a single hair. She opened a film magazine and told me to look at it while my hands did their job. We were chatting and reading, but under the quilt my fingers were busy. I caressed her outer labia with two fingers, trailing from the base of her clit all the way down and back. Slowly I increased the pressure. When I felt her getting wet, I suddenly cupped her entire cunt with my palm and began rubbing hard, grinding the base of my palm against her clit.

Until that day I had never inserted a finger inside anyone. After rubbing with my palm for some time and feeling her grow hotter, I slowed down and went back to caressing with two fingers. This time I teased the inner sides of her labia with more force and confidence.

Neelu didi admitted that I had learned quite well. Suddenly, my aunty walked into the room and caught us.

“Hey! What’s going on here?” she demanded.

Neelu didi teased her boldly, “Oh aunty, you’re like an ant in our heaven. Please go away and don’t tell anyone!”

I was shocked at how boldly Neelu spoke to aunty. But unlike her usual self, aunty looked a little perturbed and didn’t respond sharply. Without removing my fingers, I asked if we had caused any trouble.

Aunty replied that she was checking the rooms to arrange comfortable sleeping arrangements for all the guests that night.

An idea suddenly flashed in my mind. “Aunty, the barsati room on the roof is empty right now. Neelu didi, Cheenu, and I can sleep there. You can use this room for mausa ji or whoever you like.”

Aunty looked relieved, but then asked, “What about the cot? There isn’t one up there.”

Neelu didi quickly came to the rescue. “We’ll take the sofa from here and manage the rest. Don’t worry, aunty.”

Aunty smiled, back to her usual mischievous self. “Okay, but you girls will be all alone up there. Don’t call any boyfriends, okay?” She winked at us playfully and left for the kitchen.

As soon as her back was turned, I pinched Neelu didi’s cunt one last time and withdrew my fingers. Neelu looked thrilled and said, “That was good.”

Then she asked, “Reenu, do you do this with Cheenu? I think she needs to be fingered properly. Don’t lie to me — I bet you two are doing it to each other.” Saying this, she cupped my boobs. I felt a thrill run through me.

“No, Neelu didi,” I replied. “Cheenu is very shy. She won’t even undress in front of me. She always changes in the bathroom and never pees in the open like the rest of us do here.”

I confessed that I had once tried to look at Cheenu’s privates while she was asleep, but even in deep sleep she kept her thighs tightly closed. Most nights she slept in her bra and panties, and whenever I tried to touch her breasts, she would push my hand away.

Neelu didi smiled and said, “Okay, that means I’ll have to train her. And since you’re also learning fast, we can train her together.”

[Maleficio]

“No girl in the world refuses advances from boys or girls completely,” Neelu didi declared. “It’s all about the right tactic and the right atmosphere. I have made so many girls give in.”

I looked at her with genuine respect and said, “Yes, Guruji.”

She began narrating her experiences with boys — how she went out to movies with them, how they would kiss her neck and fondle her, but how she had never allowed anyone to touch her under her garments.

“Why, Guruji?” I asked innocently.

She laughed. “You won’t understand yet, Reenu. When a boy touches a girl, she keeps saying ‘No, no,’ but a girl’s ‘No’ often means ‘Yes.’ It’s almost impossible for a girl to stay in control once a boy touches her breasts directly. The moment you lose control, you can lose your cherry very quickly.”

She added that she had no objection to going all the way, but since it was a once-in-a-lifetime experience, she wanted it to happen with someone special, in the perfect setting, so she could savor every moment.

“Neelu didi, but isn’t it too painful?” I asked. “How can anyone bear that much pain?”

Neelu didi laughed and squeezed my breasts. “Banno, pain is half the joy. That’s what makes it so memorable.”

Just then, my aunty appeared and scolded us for chatting instead of moving the cot and arranging the room. “Act fast, girls. The elder ladies want to rest soon after dinner.”

I knew the real reason she was in a hurry — she had just finished her period and was now at her horniest, just like her husband.

“Okay, girls, what are you two doing under that quilt? Let me see,” she said, suddenly pulling the quilt away. But we had already moved apart like good girls and were lying properly.

We quickly shifted the cot and prepared the barsati room on the roof. It was wonderfully isolated. One could bolt the door leading to the roof, and anyone approaching had to walk quite a distance across the open terrace. The room even had an attached bathroom and toilet. We moved our things upstairs and brought Cheenu’s belongings as well.

When Cheenu arrived, Neelu didi hugged her in her usual bold style, squeezing her breasts and whispering something naughty in her ear. Cheenu laughed nervously but looked apprehensive about sleeping with us. She even tried to ask her mother if she could sleep elsewhere, but mausi gently refused. Only later did I realize it wasn’t just about space — the elders wanted to keep us growing teens away from any nocturnal mischief.

Dinner was served early. I teased my aunty, “Auntie, why are you rushing to your room? Let’s sit and chat for a while.”

She laughed, understanding my innuendo, and replied, “I have to arrange places for everyone. Your mother is already complaining that she’s feeling sleepy.”

Cheenu was still wearing her salwar suit, which covered her legs completely. Neelu didi and I couldn’t help giggling at how modest she looked.

When we went upstairs, I innocently asked my manjhali mausi (Cheenu’s mother), “Mausi, can we bolt the barsati door from inside?”

She nodded and even said, “Yes, tomorrow is a holiday, so everyone will wake up late. You girls can take your time.”

I bolted the door from our side and paused for a moment. I could hear mausi bolting the door downstairs as well. “We’ve brought all our clothes up here,” I called out. “We’ll come down only after getting ready.”

“Theek hai, aaram se aana,” she replied as she went down the stairs.

I was overjoyed — not just because I knew what would happen downstairs, but because this gave Neelu didi and me plenty of time to enjoy ourselves. I kept wondering how we would manage to get the shy Cheenu naked against her wishes. Would Neelu didi succeed in making her surrender? Alone, I could never overpower Cheenu, but with Neelu didi’s help, she would be no match for us.

After dinner, everyone retired to their allotted rooms. Neelu, Cheenu, and I climbed up to the barsati.

Cheenu pleaded once more to sleep with her mother, but she was firmly told to stay with us.

When I entered the room, Neelu didi had already changed into her nightdress, but Cheenu was still fully dressed in her salwar suit. I quickly changed into my nightgown and whispered to Neelu didi that both doors to the roof were now bolted from inside. Her face lit up with excitement.

Neelu didi told me to take the lead and promised she would support me fully.

Cheenu announced she would sleep in the farthest corner, but Neelu didi stopped her. “No, I’ll sleep there. My legs are long and I like to sleep on my side.” In the end, Cheenu was placed between Neelu didi and me.

Neelu pretended to be sleepy and lay down on one side of Cheenu. Cheenu looked nervous, clearly apprehensive about our usual pranks. We wished her good night, switched off the night lamp, and pretended to fall asleep.

I could feel Cheenu’s discomfort at being sandwiched between us. I suspected she knew about my earlier attempts to touch her while she slept and simply didn’t have the courage to protest openly.

The closeness of her body began to excite me in strange new ways. I could smell the faint scent of sweat from her armpits. Her silky salwar suit felt completely out of place in the warm, congested room. Cheenu kept shifting, trying to move away from me, but Neelu effectively blocked her by moving closer and lying in a W-shape, her folded knees pressing against Cheenu’s midriff. The more Cheenu tried to escape me, the more Neelu’s knees nudged against her belly — and cleverly, against her pussy area.

I turned to face Cheenu and tried to comfort her by casually placing my hand on her breasts. She immediately pulled it away. I changed sides and lay still. After ten to fifteen minutes of silence, Cheenu finally relaxed and drifted into a light sleep.

That was my cue. I slowly reached for the string of her salwar. It was tied at the waist with a cord that usually had a running loop, but Cheenu had knotted it tightly. It took me nearly ten minutes of careful tugging before I finally managed to loosen it without waking her.

The moment the string went slack, I slipped my hand onto her lap. A finger immediately touched mine and scratched lightly — it was Neelu didi. By now the moon had risen and the room was no longer completely dark. As soon as I loosened the cord, Neelu began pulling the salwar down from behind. Together, without Cheenu realizing, we managed to slide it down to her knees.

Instead of panties, we found Cheenu wearing rough khaki knickers with buttons. Removing them without waking her seemed impossible. Neelu hugged Cheenu tightly from behind and nodded for me to continue. I started unbuttoning the knickers. Just then, Cheenu woke up. Her hand reached down and she whispered in panic, “What is this?”

She tried to resist, but Neelu didi quickly caught both her hands and held them firmly. I took my time, teasingly slow, and pulled the salwar completely off. Then Neelu, still holding Cheenu’s hands with one of hers, pushed the khaki knickers down as well.

Cheenu expected our hands to immediately invade her most private area, so she clamped her thighs shut and covered her pussy with her folded hands. Instead, I slipped my hands under her top and gently grabbed her small, pert breasts, while Neelu didi began softly rubbing her labia with two fingers. I tweaked and caressed Cheenu’s nipples. Her body gradually grew warmer. Her resistance started melting, and she began to respond despite the strong mental fight she was putting up.

Neelu licked Cheenu’s back while I continued playing with her breasts. I could feel Cheenu slowly melting and becoming a willing participant — yet she still refused to show any open acceptance.

Not knowing what to do next, I suddenly heard Neelu didi roll over Cheenu and call out, “Reenu, it seems Cheenu is not liking this. Let’s play with each other instead. Come, let me make love to you, Reenu.”

I got out of bed and began removing my clothes. When I glanced at Cheenu, I saw her watching me eagerly. Neelu stood up, embraced me lovingly, and began showing clear signs of affection — deliberately ignoring Cheenu.

“Hey Reenu, why are you feeling so shy?” Neelu said loudly. “In a year or two, when you get married, you’ll have to disrobe for your husband every single day. Who knows, he might even make you naked in broad daylight. So don’t be shy, dear. Let me see you fully naked.”

She helped me out of my nightgown, teasing, “If you’re so shy, Reenu, just imagine you are Cheenu and I am making love to her. That way you won’t feel so embarrassed. Just pretend it’s Cheenu who is being stripped, and I am Cheenu’s lover — ha ha!”

We were still in our nightgowns. Neelu held me in her arms and began caressing me. She cradled my head gently, her fingers playing with my long, lustrous black tresses. Her smoldering lips were just inches from mine. Suddenly she gripped my head with both hands and kissed me hard on the lips. The kiss almost singed me. I responded boldly, kissing her back with equal passion. Our eyes sparkled with mischief and excitement as we lost ourselves in the moment.

Neelu’s hand untied the strings of my nightgown. It slipped off my shoulders, exposing my hardening breasts. Her hands still held mine as her kisses grew longer and bolder. Soon our tongues were dancing together. I reached over and opened Neelu didi’s nightgown too. For a moment we parted so both gowns could slide to the floor. We stepped out of them completely naked.

Cheenu lay transfixed, staring at us, but we pretended not to notice her at all.

[Maleficio]

As soon as we were both naked, we stood like two mermaids bathed in moonlight. We wrapped our arms around each other’s backs and began grinding slowly. Her breasts, slightly heavier than mine, crushed deliciously against my own. She started moaning, calling me “Cheenu” in a husky voice.

“Cheenu darling… your tits are so soft and firm… Ahhhhh… I’m getting so excited. Rub your tits against me, Cheeeeeenuuuuu…”

Neelu didi rubbed her breasts vigorously over mine. I joined in, whispering breathlessly, “Yes… yes… make love to me, Neelu.”

She began kissing me again, but this time with fast, light kisses like a butterfly flitting from flower to flower. She would kiss my eyes, and just as I expected the next one on my cheek, she would gently bite my earlobe. One hand held me firmly while the other caressed and squeezed my firm young ass. I was melting under her passionate attack.

Neelu didi pulled me into her arms and said, “Cheenu, let’s move to the bed.”

“Yes, my sajan,” I replied dreamily, and we moved toward the cot.

I lay down very close to Cheenu so our bodies rubbed against each other. By now, she was completely drawn into our lust. Like a dark cloud hovering over green pastures, Neelu didi bent over me. She positioned herself between my spread thighs without letting any part of her body touch mine yet. She placed a fleeting kiss on my eyelids. When I playfully turned my face away, she kissed around my eyes and gently tugged my eyelashes with her lips. She kissed my cheekbones and bit me hard. Her kisses grew stronger and more demanding.

She moved to the nape of my neck, kissing me there, then let her tongue travel downward. Teasingly, she skipped my nipples and went straight to the base of my now fully swollen, tennis-ball-sized teen breasts. Her tongue, like flames of passion, engulfed my breasts, and I began moaning loudly. With every kiss, she kept calling me “Cheenu,” and I could feel our shy sister’s resistance melting as she watched us with intense desire.

Suddenly, like a kite swooping down on its prey, Neelu didi grabbed both my breasts and squeezed them hard. Even now, her palms avoided my erect nipples. She cupped, squeezed, and crushed them with full force while her lips captured mine and her tongue plunged deep into my mouth.

After some time, she slowly brought her love lips to mine, touching only there while our thighs remained inches apart. The contact set my portals of love on fire. I could no longer resist. I raised my hips, and she smiled as she lowered herself, grinding her cunt against mine.

Neelu didi had now moved to the main course. Her nimble fingers grabbed one of my passion-filled, hard tits, pulling and stretching it firmly, while her lips captured the other. When I turned my face, I saw Cheenu lying very close. Her face glowed with desire, her small breasts were hard, and her nipples stood fully aroused.

I smiled at her. She smiled back shyly. I reached out, held her small, firm breast, and squeezed it softly. Her smile widened, and she pressed her chest forward into my hand. I cupped her breast more firmly and began replicating exactly what Neelu didi was doing to mine. My long nails pressed upward, and when they reached her nipple, I pinched it gently. She moaned — the first time in my life I heard my sister Cheenu moan. The sound filled me with joy. I continued pulling and pinching her nipple, and soon I heard her whisper, “Yes, Rinu… yes… please keep doing that…”

Meanwhile, Neelu didi focused entirely on rubbing her cunt against mine. She held my slender waist with both hands and ground against me with powerful strokes. Our thighs were entwined. One of my hands scratched Neelu didi’s back while my hips rose to meet every thrust.

When I looked at Cheenu again while squeezing her breasts hard, she was staring at my own breasts, which now bore marks of Neelu didi’s nails and teeth. I gently took her hand and pressed it against my breasts. The feeling was heavenly. Soon she learned the rhythm. As I squeezed and caressed her breasts, she did the same to mine. We lost all sense of time and shame.

Neelu didi found my clit and began playing with it — rubbing and pressing skillfully. I was on the verge of orgasm. When she looked at me, I smiled and glanced toward Cheenu, who was now cupping and squeezing my breasts passionately. Neelu didi understood. She moved one hand between Cheenu’s thighs and cupped her mound.

Cheenu let out a loud moan and began pressing her cunt against Neelu didi’s hand. This excited Neelu even more. She started rubbing and grinding my cunt with wild frenzy, and within moments I came hard.

Neelu didi left me and moved to Cheenu’s side, lying down beside her. We were all exhausted, but suddenly we burst into giggles. Neelu and I hugged Cheenu tightly. She was still holding my breasts while I cupped hers. I kissed her earlobes while Neelu didi kissed the swell of her breasts.

I complained playfully to Neelu didi, “Neelu didi, you’re holding Cheenu so close and keeping her all to yourself. Let me also enjoy her.”

Hugging Cheenu, Neelu replied with a smile, “Sure, why not? Cheenu will be yours too.” Cheenu nodded her head very slowly in shy agreement.

When Neelu didi sat between Cheenu’s thighs this time, Cheenu spread her legs wide even before being touched. I smiled at Neelu didi, and we began our joint plan. I took care of the top, she took the bottom.

I fondled and caressed Cheenu’s now rock-hard young breasts, but my fingers teasingly stopped short of her erect nipples, which were desperately demanding attention. Neelu didi rubbed her labia and soon located her clit. The moment she found it hot and responsive, she began pressing and rubbing it.

Cheenu responded eagerly, raising her hips, but Neelu didi kept her cunt barely touching Cheenu’s fluttering lips. Finally, Cheenu had no choice but to beg.

“Neelu didi, please… do it… do it to me… you are my sajan…”

But Neelu pretended not to hear and pressed her thumb on Cheenu’s clit, rotating it slowly. Cheenu lost all inhibitions and began rolling on the cot, pleading, “Please, Neelu didi… oh please do it to me like you did to Reenu… please, Neelu, love me like you loved Reenu.”

Neelu didi played innocent. “What, dear? Tell me again.”

I grabbed Cheenu’s breasts and pressed them hard. She gasped, “Love making…”

I smiled, pulled her nipple, and said, “Arre Cheenu, be more frank. Tell me exactly what you want me to do.”

She was burning with desire but still hesitated. “Neelu didi, I cannot say it… I’m ashamed.”

Neelu teased her further, “Cheenu, I don’t understand. Say it clearly. Only then can I help you.”

When she realized there was no escape, Cheenu finally blurted out, “Okay… fuck me… fuck me!”

But Neelu didi was relentless. “Fucking? What is that, dear? Tell me in Hindi. I want to hear exactly what you want done to you.”

Neelu didi began rubbing her clit in a frenzy. Cheenu was beyond control now and moaned loudly, “Ohhh… oohhh… please… please… oh Neelu, don’t tease me anymore. I want you to fuck my cunt. Fuck me like Uncle fucks our aunty. Fuck me like a bull fucks a cow!”

That was the signal we had been waiting for.

Neelu didi immediately pressed her cunt against Cheenu’s and started fucking her wildly. I pulled, pinched, and rolled her nipples, leaving nail marks on her soft breasts. Cheenu moaned wildly, her hips moving in perfect unison with Neelu didi.

Neelu didi’s timing was perfect. Whenever Cheenu was on the verge of coming, she would suddenly stop and signal me. Cheenu would beg desperately, and Neelu would make her promise to use only dirty words. She forced Cheenu to repeat “lund, bur, choot, chudai” (cock, pussy, cunt, fucking) many times before continuing.

With her expertise, in four or five minutes she would bring Cheenu to the brink again. Then it would be my turn to extract promises. Soon Cheenu was exclaiming shamelessly, “Rinu, please rub my choot harder… harder… yes, like that… forcefully… yaaahhh… aaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh!”

We realized her real initiation had begun. Neelu didi finally brought her to a powerful release.

This time even Neelu didi was completely exhausted. For a long time, all three of us lay quietly, hugging each other softly.

[Maleficio]

After some time, when our tiredness had faded, Neelu didi was back in high spirits. In her usual bold style, she grabbed one of my breasts and one of Cheenu’s, squeezing them hard.

“Come on, girls,” she said. “I have eaten both of your pussies and taken you to heaven. But you two have completely forgotten about me, your Guruji.”

Cheenu laughed and replied, “Didi, as you know, I’m new to this, but maybe Rinu didi should do something about it. She has been trying to get under my skirt for so long.”

I laughed too and said, “Guruji, maybe I should give some head to it.” With that, I moved between Neelu didi’s widely spread thighs.

I kissed her deep navel and let my tongue slide downward without breaking contact, deliberately avoiding her cunt at first. I traced a line along her outer lips, then pushed a pillow under her hips to lift her chootar. My tongue continued licking all the way to the crack of her ass. My hands slowly and teasingly caressed her inner thighs while my tongue moved up to stroke the other side of her labia. I wasn’t just licking — I was pressing and stroking, making full circles around her pussy. I could hear didi’s soft moans growing louder.

Cheenu was no longer sitting idle. She had joined in earnestly, pressing and cupping Neelu didi’s breasts. This double assault made Neelu didi raise her hips, demanding more. I didn’t deny her. In one swift move, I opened my mouth wide and captured her entire muff. I didn’t kiss or suck at first — I simply held it there. Then I began rubbing my mouth against her slowly. I could feel her juices flowing. I lifted my face, parted her pussy lips wide with my fingers, and started rubbing the wet inner folds of her labia.

Neelu didi had closed her eyes, completely surrendering to the pleasure. I slipped one finger inside her while my tongue searched for her clit. The moment it touched her swollen clit, I began flicking and vibrating it. My finger moved gently, pressing the inner walls without going too deep.

When I sensed her clit had become fully hard and swollen, I withdrew my tongue and finger. Then, very slowly, I pushed my tongue deep inside her juicy pussy and began fucking her with it — sliding in and out, running it between her inner and outer lips while holding them together with my own lips, circling and teasing. My fingers were busy too, searching for her meatus — the tiny opening of her urethra. When I found it, I pressed the tips of my fingers there firmly.

Didi started moaning loudly. I glanced at Cheenu, who understood the silent message and pinched Neelu didi’s hard, erect nipples with force.

Didi was almost at the edge of climax when I suddenly withdrew my tongue and lifted my face. She frantically raised her hips, begging for more. I let her cool down slightly, then started again. This time my tongue went straight to her clit, flicking it rapidly while my fingers slid in and out of her soaked cunt.

Her clit swelled again and her moans grew wild. I raised my face and looked at Cheenu, who was watching greedily. I licked my lips and signaled toward didi’s tits. Cheenu understood instantly. She devoured Neelu didi’s breasts in one hungry gulp while I grabbed her clit between my lips and sucked it hungrily — pressing, sucking, and flicking it with my tongue.

I held didi’s slender waist firmly with both hands. She didn’t just come — she exploded. Neither Cheenu nor I stopped. We only slowed our rhythm until she subsided, then immediately started again in full frenzy. Wave after wave of orgasm crashed over her. Only when she nearly collapsed did we finally release her.

She couldn’t speak, but her glistening eyes said everything: “Very good, sisters.” We both hugged our Guruji tightly.

We must have lain there for nearly an hour, holding Neelu didi between us. Finally, she sat up and said, “Reenu, I’m fully satisfied with you. You really know how to give a good suck — I loved it. But Cheenu, you still need to show more progress. Why don’t you try again with Reenu’s cunt? First, Reenu will suck you dry so you can understand exactly how it’s done. Alright?”

Cheenu nodded shyly. I smiled at her and asked, “So you also want me to suck you the way I sucked Neelu didi?”

Neelu intervened immediately, “No. Both of you will do exactly what I say. I am the boss here, okay?”

We arranged ourselves side by side in a sixty-nine position — my head buried between Cheenu’s legs and her head between mine. This time Cheenu needed no encouragement. She moaned, “Reenu, deeper yaar… ooooooooh… make it deeper!”

I went deeper between her thighs, but Neelu didi stopped us. “No. Let’s make Cheenu suck my pussy too. Nahin, Cheenu ko bhi to choot chaatna sikhana chahiye. Ise saath-saath meri choot chaatni hogi aur main ise pakki choot-chaatori bana doongi.”

I continued licking Cheenu’s choot while Neelu didi straddled her face. She rubbed her soaked, dripping pussy hard against Cheenu’s mouth, forcing her to lick. This time we took it very slowly, stretching our pleasure for more than an hour.

We tried to sleep afterward, but sleep wouldn’t come. Neelu didi entertained us with her experiences and some adult jokes. Then she had a new idea. She asked us to close our eyes for a moment and brought a drink that looked like Coke but wasn’t. When we drank it, fire spread through our bodies. We asked what it was. She smiled and said, “Ramola — a mix of cola and rum. It will bring our energy back.”

Neelu didi then made us finger-fuck her. After that, she asked us to fuck ourselves while describing everything in detail. Just as we were on the verge of climax, she made us stop and swap fingers. I finger-fucked Cheenu while she shoved her fingers deep inside my cunt. Soon we came together again. The games continued until I suddenly glanced at the clock — it was already 5 a.m.

“Oh! We’ve spent the entire night. Let’s sleep,” we exclaimed together.

We slept until 9 o’clock. When I woke up, I knew we were going to be scolded for waking up so late. I quickly woke the others and we got ready. The only indulgence was that we took a bath together. Neelu didi made us clean our golden-brown young pubic hair — and made us say the word “jhant” loudly while doing it.

When I came downstairs, expecting a scolding, I found the house still sleepy. Mami was in the kitchen making tea. I hugged her and said, “Sorry, aunty, I woke up late today. Shall I help you in the kitchen?”

She smiled and replied, “No, but maybe you can help with something else. It’s already quite late to prepare breakfast. Why don’t you go to Panchu’s shop and get some hot samosas?”

“But mami, you know how crowded it gets at this time, and Panchu is so lecherous. He always cracks dirty jokes with girls,” I protested.

“No excuses, Reenu. You have to go now. Hurry up,” she insisted.

As I turned to leave, she pulled my chunni away playfully and laughed, “Now it looks nice.”

After last night’s lessons with Neelu didi, I had become bolder. I went out as I was. When I reached the shop, there was sudden silence. Ignoring all the stares at my breasts, I walked straight to Panchu and asked for samosas. He leered at me, licking his lips, and said, “Well, the samosas are good and well-rounded,” clearly referring to my breasts.

I crossed my arms under my breasts, pushing them out further, and replied sweetly, “But I want them fast.” Before the people in the queue could protest, he quickly gave me the samosas and I returned home.

Neelu didi had already convinced mausi ji and mausa ji to let us go for a movie. Uncle also gave permission for us to have dinner outside and handed us enough money. My mother gave me some extra money for the outing.

Neelu didi guided us on how to dress. I wore a tight salwar-kurta, while Cheenu was made to wear a short frock. When I put on my breast massager under my bra, I noticed Cheenu had done the same. She smiled sheepishly and pointed at her bra.

As soon as we stepped out, Neelu didi pulled away Cheenu’s dupatta and I hid it in my bag. With that, Cheenu’s shyness disappeared too, and we stepped into our youthful, carefree “mast jawani.”

We watched a movie and then spent some time in Love Lane — the famous narrow spot in Gunj. For the first time, a few boys brushed past us and boldly fondled our breasts. Our Guruji actually encouraged it with her naughty smiles.

When we returned home, Cheenu was the first to strip. We repeated the previous night’s acts with even more passion and joy.

Neelu didi stayed with us for two weeks, and every night we tried different sex games. She taught us many things. One day, when my mom, mausi ji, and aunty were playing cards and exchanging ribald jokes and the lewdest songs, the three of us were cheering them on. I suddenly blurted out to Badi Mausi, “Mausi ji, please arrange Neelu’s wedding soon.”

Badi Mausi responded strongly, “That means you want to be next in line! Why don’t you say directly that you want to get married?”

Manjhali Mausi came to my support: “But Reenu’s tits have grown so well, and Neelu now looks younger than her.”

Badi Mausi immediately changed her tone. “Yes, that’s true.” She pulled me onto her lap, kissed me loudly on both cheeks, and squeezed my breasts while saying, “Rinu, you are growing up so nicely that I think Neelu’s and Cheenu’s husbands will run after you the moment they see these beautiful breasts.”

They began discussing openly how it was common in society for elder girls’ husbands to have fun with the younger ones. I quickly changed the topic and left. Meanwhile, Cheenu and Neelu kept urging me to go up to the barsati for a “noon show.” Though I was more than willing — we had a pact to share everything — it didn’t happen that day. I especially loved teasing Cheenu about it.

Years passed. After about two more years, we all got married or engaged. Neelu didi had very high standards — or rather, she wanted someone long and thick. She finally found a man who “exceeded” her expectations. The engagement was done, but the poor fellow had to go to the US for a course, which delayed her marriage by two years. She got married only last month and is now on an extended honeymoon.

Cheenu’s marriage was fixed a few months before mine. I was already planning that this time I would not spare my Jiju. However, due to some astrological issues, she could only get married one and a half months after my wedding — after I had returned from my month-long honeymoon. And that is how I went to my husband as a virgin.

[Maleficio]

I was jolted out of my memories when the telephone rang again. This time it was my mother.

Mummy told me that the marriage rituals would begin in three days. Since neither Cheenu nor Neelu could attend, I had to reach at least two days before the wedding day. My husband immediately arranged my flight tickets. It was decided that Cheenu’s husband, Ravi, would receive me at Palam Airport. I didn’t tell my husband how eager Jijaji was to pick me up.

I asked my husband once more if he could try to come for the wedding, but he shook his head. “Reenu, you know our friend Mr. Singh? He has a one-room set right next to Mausa ji’s house. He insists that you stay there. I suggest you at least drop your luggage there. You may need a private room during the marriage when the house gets too crowded. You can either stay there yourself or let some relatives use it. I’ve already spoken to Mr. Singh.”

He added with a smile, “Reenu, remember that scheme where you get one credit card free for your spouse? Today a card arrived in your name on my company account. Go ahead and splurge for the wedding.”

I felt immensely happy. As I went to the kitchen to get some food, I kept thinking how delighted Jijaji would be when he heard that only forty-eight hours separated us.

The moment my husband left for the office, I began planning what I would wear for the wedding. I wanted to look different this time — as sexy and bold as possible. I decided to go through Cheenu’s wedding album to see what I had worn during her marriage and make sure my outfit would be much more daring now.

The very first picture made me lose my breath. There was Ravi — my Jiju — looking so dashing and handsome that I was almost hypnotized. Even though he was smiling at Cheenu in the photograph, his eyes were not focused on her. I had never noticed it before. He was gazing intently at my breasts. At that time they were 34C — proud, firm, and prominently displayed in a traditional deep-cleavage, backless choli. The chunri that was supposed to cover them was still in my hands.

There were other pictures too — of the dinner where I was feeding him with my henna-covered hands, singing the lewdest gallis and teasing him. In one shot, I was blocking his way to the kohabar, and the memory of what he did to me there almost made my nipples harden.

My thoughts drifted back to Cheenu’s wedding.

My own marriage had taken place just one month before Cheenu’s, even though she had been engaged a year earlier than me. I had returned from my honeymoon, and everyone — especially my mausis and cousins — was teasing me endlessly. In return, I teased Cheenu, joined by two of her bhabhis, Madhu Bhabhi and Rashmi Bhabhi (wives of Ravi’s cousins who had come for the wedding).

However, when it came to singing gallis, I too, as the nanad, became the target of the choicest abuses. There was an old custom of singing sexy, rowdy songs in a hall where only women were allowed. The purpose was to give sexual education to the bride and help her shed her inhibitions.

I had heard that Ravi was very extroverted and bold, and his family was even more open-minded than ours — almost shamelessly so. The groom arrived at night on a horse, accompanied by a grand procession called the Barat. Liquor and sweets flowed freely. Everyone in the Barat was showered with expensive gifts, including bikes.

When the Barat reached our house, a sehra was read from the bride’s side and some teasing songs were sung by my mausi and mummy. In return, the groom and his relatives, including his father (samadhi), distributed printed sheets containing bawdy questions and jokes aimed at us. One question especially pointed toward me: “Why is the moon-like face looking so grim and dark today?”

I noticed that Mummy, Mausi, and Mami were enjoying these sheets thoroughly.

Since I was newly married, I felt more daring and carefree. I walked straight up to Jiju, introduced myself, but before I could say much, he caught my hands and said, “Yes, I know you, Reenu. You are my younger but most favourite and prettiest saali. See, as soon as you came this side, the lights dimmed. Do you know why? The light felt poor in front of such a moon-like face.”

He went on quoting romantic verses of Omar Khayyam, all about a beautiful face. It was clear he was far more interested in me than in Cheenu. Though I didn’t admit it, Ravi’s words and verses were melting me.

As soon as the jaimala ceremony was over, he pulled me into a quiet corner and started chatting. Most of the time he shamelessly stared at my breasts. To encourage him, I deliberately removed my chunri and played with it in my hands.

He said, “Saali ji, I have a complaint against you.”

I giggled. “I know, but how can I make amends? It was written in the stars. Still, you can cash your cheque whenever you want. After all, I am your saali.”

He looked delighted and said, “Sacchi?”

I replied in his own style, “Haan, but there is punishment for premature withdrawal.”

He laughed loudly.

Meanwhile, his friends joined us. I said, “Please introduce me to your friends.”

Ravi smiled, “Sure. Let me introduce my youngest but cutest saali to all of you.”

Before he could continue, they all chorused, “Yes, we know she is your only saali.” One of them added with a naughty grin, “Your saali is too sexy, yaar.”

Jiju frowned, but I quickly said, “Don’t mind him, he is just flattering me.” Everyone burst into laughter and the mood became even merrier.

He introduced me to all his cousins and female relatives, and I made sure to remember their names for later use.

After some time, I went away to attend to some chores. When I returned, Ravi was having dinner, but none of his friends or relatives were around. I asked him what kind of food he liked.

“Non-veg,” he replied with a wink.

I laughed and snatched the plate from his hand. “Jiju, from now on you should leave all these indecent habits. You should eat with a spoon and fork.”

He laughed and said, “But when a beautiful saali like you is around, how can I forget my old naughty habits?”

I pretended to be angry. “Hey Jiju, don’t make any difference between me and Cheenu. From tomorrow Cheenu will feed you, but tonight I will feed you.” I started feeding him with my own henna-filled hands.

When only one morsel was left, I took it to his mouth but deliberately smeared it on his handsome cheek. He looked angry for a second, but such pranks are common during weddings. The bride’s younger sister has the privilege to tease the groom — sometimes hiding his clothes, sometimes misplacing his shoes. To get them back, the groom has to pay money to the saali and her friends.

Ravi took me to the ice-cream stall and insisted on feeding me. To be safe, I told him to use a spoon so he couldn’t pay me back in the same coin. But he had another trick ready. When the ice cream was almost finished, he took a big scoop, pretended to eat it, then suddenly bent and poured it straight into my deep cleavage. There was no one in that corner.

“Now we are even, saali,” he said with a wicked smile. “May I clean it for you? I will use only my lips.”

I turned away quickly to let the ice cream slide out of my choli and even loosened the string a little. For a moment he almost saw my breasts. I pretended to be angry and said, “Main aapse gussa hoon.”

But he immediately took me to the paan stall, fed me paan with his own hands, and I fed him back, saying, “Okay, now we are even.”

After some time, the groom came to the mandap for the marriage rituals. I had changed into a tight salwar-kurta. Since he had already seen my cleavage, I decided to flaunt the full height of my twin peaks. I was wearing a dupatta, but it was loosely dbangd around my neck. I took a position close to Jiju and began singing. Cheenu’s bhabhi was playing the dholak.

I started with some fun welcome songs full of double meanings:

“Swagat main gali sunaon, meri sakhiyan swagat main gali sunao…  
Banne ke mathe pe tika nahin hai, tikuli aur bindi lagao…  
Banne ke haath mein ghadiyan nahin, kangan aur choodi pahano…  
Banne ke pair mein mauje nahin, payal aur bichhuyen pahano…  
Banne ke tan pe shirt nahin, usko to saari pahano…  
Banne ke seene pe baniyan nahin, usko to choli (mummy added: body) pahano…  
Banne ke paas mein pant nahin, isko to saya pahano…  
Banne ke sang mein randi nahin, arey iski to behna nachao…”

[Welcome to the night of sweet abuses… Make our bride shed her inhibitions…  
Arrange beautiful clothes for the groom… Put a bindi on his forehead…  
Bath him in perfumed oil and make his body shining and fragrant.]

[Maleficio]

Meanwhile, Jiju’s father and other male relatives had arrived. His father had a big, impressive moustache. My mom suggested, “Let’s sing some songs for our father-in-law.” When I offered to let her start, everyone protested, “No, no, Reenu — you continue!”

Jiju teased me, “Why, saali? Are you already out of stock?”

I pretended to be angry and launched into even rowdier songs. I wanted to target both Jiju and his father, so I began singing while Mummy, Mausi, and the bhabhis repeated my lines like responses:

“Muncho wale samdhi ka pyara banna, hariyala bana shahzada banna…  
Banne ke sar pe shera sohe, arre log kahen…  
Aare log kahen — Maliya ka jana!”

“Muncho wale samdhi ka pyara banna, hariyala bana shahzada banna…  
Banne ke kaanon mein kundal sohe, arre log kahen…  
Aare log kahen — Sunara ka jana!”

“Muncho wale samdhi ka pyara banna, hariyala bana shahzada banna…  
Banne ke tan pe suit sohe, arre log kahen…  
Aare log kahen — Bajaj ka jana!”

“Muncho wale samdhi ka pyara banna, hariyala bana shahzada banna…  
Banne ke paon mein juta sohe, arre log kahen…  
Aare log kahen — Mochi ka jana!”

Then Jiju’s father interjected with a laugh, “Arre, the Barat also has Mama ji!” Mummy nodded at me, so I quickly added:

“Banne ke sang mein Mama ji aaye, arre log kahen…  
Aare log kahen — Mama ka jana!”

There was loud laughter all around. Since Ravi lived in Dhobi Wali Gali, I continued mischievously:

“Dhobi ki gali se hoke aaya hai banna, arre Dhobi ki gali se hoke aaya hai banna…  
Arre log kahen — Gadhe ka jana!”

“Muncho wale samdhi ka pyara banna, hariyala bana shahzada banna!”

Mami teased, “Arre, dulhe ki bua jo jyon baksh duya, vo bhi to pakki chinar hai!” I immediately started another galli welcoming the baratis. Jiju looked surprised at my endless stock and gave me a thumbs-up. I continued, now targeting his father, uncles, and mama:

“Moti jhalke lali besariyan mein moti jhalke…  
Banne ke papa angan mein aaye, Jija ke chacha angan mein aaye…  
Aane ko aadar, baithne ko kursi,  
Pine ko paani, khane ko khana, aur sang sone ko…  
Arre sang sone ko, unke papa ke, unke chacha ke sang maja lene ko…  
Dulhe ki bua raji re, maja lene ko!”

His mama laughed and teased Jiju’s father. I continued:

“Moti jhalke lali besariyan mein moti jhalke…  
Banne ke mama, hamare Jiju ke mama angan mein aaye…  
Aane ko aadar, baithne ko kursi,  
Pine ko paani, khane ko khana, aur sang sone ko…  
Arre sang sone ko, dulhe ki amma raji re!”

Meanwhile, Jiju’s two cousin sisters, Gita and Guddo, walked in. My bhabhi interjected, “Arre, jara apne ghar walon ka bhi to fayda karo!” I immediately changed track:

“Bhaiya hamare angan mein aaye, banne ka sala angan mein aaye…  
Aane ko aadar, baithne ko kursi,  
Pine ko paani, khane ko khana, aur sang sone ko…  
Sang sone ko, maja lene ko, taang uthane ko…  
(And someone added loudly) Khub chudwane ko!  
Gita aur Guddo rani raji re, hamare bhaiya ke sang…  
Guddo aur Gita chinariya raji re!”

The baratis took it all in good spirit. Gita and Guddo raised their hands to be identified but complained, “Rinu bhabhi, playback singing nahin chalega — add some more spice!”

Jiju joined them and said, “Hey, aisi galli to bhajan si lag rahi hai!”

Dulari — the maid who was more like a relative and treated Cheenu and me like nanads — wanted to jump in with her choicest gallis, but Jiju teased, “Pehle saali har maan lein ki inhe nahin aati.”

My mom refused to back down. “Theek hai, chal Rinu — aaj kas ke suna de!” My bhabhis and mami also goaded me. Badi Mausi added, “Sirf apni side ko nahin, hamari samdhan ko bhi!”

I began with fresh zest and sang a traditional bawdy galli:

“Chal mare ghode chane ke khet mein, chane ke khet mein…  
Boya tha gana, banne ki amma ko, bua ko, banne ki mami ko le gaya babha na…  
Dabave dono jobana, chane ke khet mein…  
Padi thi ghunchi, banne ki jija ki bahna ko, Roma rani ko le gaya maochi…  
Roma ki dabave dono choonchi, chane ke khet mein…  
Padi thi rai, banne ki bahna ko, Gita saali ko le gaya nai…  
Rat bhar kare chudai, chane ke khet mein…  
Pada tha roda, banne ki bahna ko, Guddo chinariya ko le gaya ghoda…  
Guddo rani ghont rahi launda, chane ke khet mein!”

I asked Jiju teasingly, “Kyon, maja aaya apni bahnon ka haal sunakar?”

He was shameless and taunted me back, “With a lot of effort you must have learned these, but now your stock is over and you’ll return to your bhajans.”

Dulari coaxed me, “Arre Rinu, inhe Ganga ji wala bhajan suna do!” This time I focused only on his sisters — my nanads:

“Ganga ji tumhara bhala karen, Ganga ji…  
Hamare Jiju ke bahna ki buriya, Gita rani ki buriya…  
Talon aisi, pokhar aisi, jismein 900 gunde nahaan karen,  
Bur chode karen, maja loote karen…  
Ganga ji tumhara bhala karen, Ganga ji…

Hamare Jiju ke bahna ki buriya, Guddo chinariya ki buriya…  
Deg aisi, patile aisi, jismein 9 maund chawal paka kare,  
Barati saale khaay karen, maja loote karen…  
Ganga ji tumhara bhala karen, Ganga ji!”

Mummy looked at me appreciatively. She, along with Mausi, Dulari, and my bhabhis, joined in, and the flow of gallis continued:

“Aariya aariya bari saale baithe bich mein dulhe raja ji…  
Dulhe ki behna, Gita saali phool tode chali, gir padi bichali ji…  
Unke Gita chinron ke bhonsade mein ghus gayi ladkiya…  
Dauda dauda Ravi bhaiya, apne munhve se khincha lakadiya ji…

Dulhe ki behna, Guddo chinariya phool tode chali, gir padi bichali ji…  
Unke Guddo chinron ke bhonsade mein ghus gayi ladkiya…  
Ek kadam chale, do kadam chale, tisare amin gadiyon mein ghus gayi lakadiya ji…  
Dauda dauda Ravi bhaiya, apne munhve se khincha lakadiya ji!”

Jiju looked at me with new-found respect and saluted. I crossed my arms just below my twin peaks and pushed them up, acknowledging his compliment.

Meanwhile, one of my cousins came running with news of a “crisis” — the girls couldn’t locate Jiju’s shoes, which were supposed to be stolen. When I looked around, I noticed Gita sitting in a strange pose. Although she was squatting on the ground, her legs weren’t touching it. I told my cousin to offer her a chair, but she refused suspiciously. When she shifted position, I saw that she had cleverly hidden the shoes almost inside her skirt.

I quickly devised a plan with my cousins. One girl brought a glass of freezing cold water. Two others positioned themselves behind her, and a cousin brother was sent on the mission. When the water was offered, Gita refused, but my sister insisted. In the confusion, the glass tilted and icy water poured not only over her but straight inside her top, completely wetting her breasts. She jumped up with a shriek from the cold. My cousin brother was ready with a towel and began “drying” her vigorously over her boobs. While she tried to stop him, the two girls behind her quickly snatched Jiju’s shoes and ran away.

We started teasing her mercilessly.  
“Hey Gita, what were you doing with shoes in your skirt?”  
Bhabhi added, “Arre, why were you keeping shoes in your pussy? We could have given you a nice big cucumber!”  
Even Mummy joined in: “So many boys are around and you’re playing with a shoe? Chi chi!”

Poor Gita’s protests were drowned in our laughter.

After the main marriage rituals, it was time for the kohabar ceremony. All the saalis and salhajs blocked Jiju’s entry into the bridal chamber. First, we demanded money for his shoes. Bhabhi announced dramatically, “This time Jiju has to pay a big price because the shoes were hidden under our cute Gita’s skirt — and Gita’s pussy is still virgin, so charge him extra!”

Jiju sang a song and paid a thousand rupees. He whispered to me, “Main dhakka laga kar andar ghus jaunga.”

I replied boldly, “To kya Gita ki tarah samajh rakha hai? Bina dhakke ke andar to jaayega bhi nahin.”

His bhabhis and sisters pushed him forward. The moment he entered, I didn’t leave the doorway. He seized the chance, jostled me, and grabbed my breasts. I didn’t flinch. Instead, I pressed my boobs harder into his hands while my own hand reached down and squeezed him firmly over his pants, sending a clear signal.

As soon as he was inside, the door was closed. Now it was the turn of my mom, mausi, and mami. Jiju was clever — before sitting, he checked the spot, and before bowing, he made sure there were no hidden slippers or sandals. Still, with love, I made him eat the paan that Cheenu had already eaten and drink water that Cheenu had drunk (jutha).

He was asked to blow out a flame, and Mummy and Mausi sang:

“Kar chinare ke dudh bati, neeche tumhari amma, upar hamare banna ke papa…  
Chudvaye tumhari amma, chode banna ke papa…”

Bhabhi couldn’t stay behind and joined:

“Kar chinare ke dudh bati, neeche tumhari behna, upar hamare saiyan…  
Chodave tumhari behna, chode hamare saiyan…”

I asked Jiju a paheli (riddle):

“Chhati se chhati mile, chhed se chhed ragda-ragdi hoi…  
To nikle safed-safed.”

He laughed and said, “Very easy — what Cheenu and I will do tomorrow night!”

We all burst out laughing. I taunted him, “Jiju, it only means that like your sister Gita, you think of only one thing and can’t answer a simple riddle. It’s a chakki — two stones with a hole, and when wheat is ground, white flour comes out.”

Jiju refused to accept defeat easily. “Now you answer the questions from our paper. Samdhin kya dalvati hain aur kya kholti hain when the baratis come?”

Rashmi Bhabhi answered quickly, “Very simple — she opens her eyes to see the Barat and dalvane ke liye mala mein phool dalvati hai.”

Jiju turned to me again: “Okay, saali ji, now answer this — ‘Chandi sa badan tera, phir itni jagah kyon kaali hai?’”

If he meant what I was thinking, it would be difficult to answer. I showed mock anger and said, “Jaake apni bahnon se poochiye na — unki bhi to woh jagah…”

Jiju laughed and clarified, “I know what place you’re thinking of, but have you shown that place to me? Arre, badan means face — on your lovely fair moon-like face, you have black eyes, eyebrows, and eyelids, and they make your chandi sa face so beautiful.”

At the time of vidai, the entire atmosphere changed. Joy and merry songs gave way to sobs. Cheenu was crying, and I couldn’t control my tears either. We had grown up together — she was more than a cousin, more than a sister.

But Jiju, being himself, said, “Hey, if I sob, will you hug me too?”

Including Cheenu, everyone burst into laughter. “For hugging your only saali, you don’t need to sob or wait for an opportunity,” I replied, and hugged him tightly.

We looked at Cheenu. I teased, “Hey, jal to nahin rahi ho?”

She giggled and said, “Vo promise yaad hai?”

“Ekdam,” I replied. “I will not leave him. Bas ek baar aaj tum try kar lo.”

Gita said, “Bhaiya, Rinu bhabhi ko bhi le chaliye.”

I promised to come in the evening for the reception.

I had checked what Cheenu was going to wear for the reception and deliberately wore a similar dress to tease her. Jiju asked me to sit close to him. Cheenu was on one side, and I was on the other. He proudly introduced me to all his friends as “bonus.”

One friend joked, “Ravi, what will you unwrap first tonight?”

Pinching my cheek, Jiju answered, “Of course — bonus!”

His hand brushed my choli as he commented, “Hey, I’m too eager to know what’s behind this choli.”

Now it was Cheenu’s turn to tease me. She said, “Arre, to khol ke dekh lijiye. If you’re worried about me, you have full permission from my side.”

I wanted to pay her back, so I told Jiju, “Jiju, ye jo Cheenu rani itni chahak rahi hain, usko zyada mat tang kijiyega.”

He made a face and said, “Hey, to phir meri suhaag raat kya aisi hi?”

I soothed him while pinching Cheenu’s cheeks and replied, “Mera matlab hai bahut zyada tang kijiyega.”

During dinner, he was very caring and personally escorted me. When it was time to leave, he asked softly, “Hey, kab milega?”

Pointing toward Cheenu, I said, “Pehle aaj ye kila to faateh kar lijiye. Aur phir agli baar jab main milungi na, to mere dono darwaze aapke liye khule rahenge.” I slightly parted my thighs as I said it.

He hugged me tightly and squeezed my breasts, whispering, “Bhool na jaana aur phir mana kar dena.”

I returned his hug and replied, “Kis saali ki himmat hai jo mere is handsome Jiju ko mana kar de?”

I had to leave by the night train, so I rushed back.

[Maleficio]

The next morning, I wanted to tease Cheenu about her suhaag raat. When I couldn’t find her, I called Mummy and asked where she was. Mummy kept giggling, and I had to force her to stop.

“She’s in the hospital,” Mummy finally said, still laughing. “She had to be stitched. Bahut khoon kharab ho gaya.”

I burst out laughing too. “What happened? Did Cheenu refuse, or is he massive?”

“No girl refuses on her first night — they’re all dying to get it in their choot,” Mummy replied. “But I think she wasn’t properly wet. And yes, it seems he is quite massive too — gadhe ka jana!”

We both giggled again.

“Then what happened? Is Cheenu alright now?” I asked.

Mummy retorted, “Why wouldn’t she be? Your bhabhi scolded Jiju, ‘Arre, pahli raat hi poora musal dalna zaroori tha kya?’ But I took Ravi’s side and told him he must try again today. If fear settles in Cheenu’s mind, she will never enjoy chudai properly. So tonight Cheenu is going to get it hard.”

How I wished I could have been in Cheenu’s place. No matter how much pain there was, I would have taken every last inch of Ravi.

As they say, speak of the devil — the phone rang, and it was Ravi himself.

“Saali ji, what’s the news? Good news for you — your saali will be meeting you in just three days.”

“Sirf meeting or mating?” I teased, matching his tone.

“That depends on your Jiju,” he replied playfully. “But please, can you come to receive me?”

“Arre, sure! If a saali’s Jiju doesn’t come to pick her up, then who will — her behenchod saala?” he said warmly.

I stopped him midway. “Okay, and will you also feed and give me something to drink?”

“What about a big cream roll?” he asked instantly.

I immediately understood his meaning. “Hey, my mouth is already watering.”

He laughed. “Which mouth — the one on top or the one below?”

“Both,” I replied boldly.

I spent the next two days preparing, hoping, and dreaming. Two days later, I left by the evening train for Lucknow. I had told my husband not to worry — someone would definitely come to receive me.

I had asked the attendant to wake me half an hour before we reached Lucknow. I washed my face, applied fresh lipstick, and was ready for the “meeting” — or rather, mating — with my Jiju. I was wearing a kurta-salwar that clearly showed off my high, proud breasts.

The moment I stepped down from the train, he was there with his trademark laugh. He hugged me very tightly and said, “Hey, kuch aur…”

I laughed and replied, “Say it, Jiju. It has grown bigger, hasn’t it? Come home and measure it properly. For the next six days, I’m all yours.”

He said, “Rinu, I was confused. There are two stations, and I wasn’t sure whether you would come on the badi line or choti line.”

I interjected, “Jiju, now you are big enough to leave the habit of the choti line.”

He guffawed. “Hey, given a choice, I would prefer both.”

I whispered, “Have you ever tried it with Cheenu?”

“She will beat me, but haan, Rinu ki baat aur hai,” he said and pinched my heavy, erotically swinging hips.

He had brought a Gypsy. As soon as we started moving, he pulled me closer, saying, “While driving, one hand should always be on the horn,” and kept it there. I moved even closer and warned, “Hey, you should not start pressing the horn in a no-horn zone.”

He squeezed my breast and said, “I think you are becoming very horny.”

My slender fingers traced a line over the growing bulge in the front of his tight jeans. He pinched my nipple and asked, “Hey, what are you looking for?”

“Jiju, you are really forgetful,” I replied. “You had promised me a big cream roll.”

He laughed. “Yes, I had planned that, but Mausi (he called my mother Mausi) warned me that I must bring her daughter home without causing any harm.”

I laughed and said, “And if you cause harm to her when she reaches home, then?”

He joined in the laughter. “For that, nobody has any objection.”

I squeezed his now fully prominent bulge and said, “Jiju, at least your saali will never object to it.”

When we reached home, the scene was very familiar. Mummy and Mausi were teasing Cheenu’s bua and mausa ji. Mausi was scolding mausa ji, “So much work is still pending and you got up so late. Kya, raat bhar Cheenu ki bua ke saath kushti lad rahe the?”

Mummy grabbed bua ji’s breasts, squeezed them, and said, “Dekho, raat bhar apne bhaiya se dabwakar kaisa ho gaya hai.”

Bua ji was no less. She tried to lift Mummy’s sari and said, “Bhabhi, abhi apke bur ka darshan karati hoon — ki raat bhar kaise uchal-kood hui usmein.”

Then they noticed me. I touched bua ji’s feet. She blessed me, “Jaldi se judwaana, bacche hon.”

I said, “No, bua ji, let me enjoy for some days first.”

Bua ji immediately changed her blessing, lifted me up, and said, “Haan, theek kahati ho. Roj raat mein tumhare okhali mein musal chale.”

I laughed and replied, “Bua ji, apna musal to main laayi nahi. Phir kaise okhali mein musal chalega?”

Pointing towards Ravi, she said, “Arre, ye chhah haath ka musal to saamne khada hai — vo kab kaam dega?”

Mausi joined in, “Yes, and his okhali is also ready.” She immediately ordered Jiju, “Hey, did you hear that?” He nodded with a smile and said, “Yes.”

Bua ji told him, “Meri beti se kabhi shikayat na mile ki aaj nanga ho gaya.”

Meanwhile, Dulari bhabhi (the maid who was more like a relative and expert in the bawdiest songs) came out and hugged me tightly. “Itni der mein kyon aayi? Kya, mard ke bina raha nahi ja raha tha?”

Cheenu’s bhabhi, Rashmi, also came and said, “Arre Rinu, mera mard le leti — tumhara variation bhi ho jaata.”

Indicating towards Ravi, I replied, “Nahin bhabhi, aapke mard aapko mubarak hon. Main apne liye station se hi intezaam karke aayi hoon.”

She hugged me, pinched my breasts, and said, “Arre, ab lag raha hai ki shaadi ka ghar hai.”

I retorted, “Kyon bhabhi, koi galli dene wala nahin mila tha kya? Chaliye, ab sunati hoon aapko jam ke.”

She said, “No, main sunane ko tars rahi thi.”

I reminded her, “Bhabhi, don’t forget what kind of gallis I sang at Cheenu’s wedding. Now I have added many more to my stock.” Looking at Dulari, I added, “Aaj saari bhabhi logon ki aisi ki taisi hogi, isliye apne kaan mein ya jahan chahe wahan tel daal kar rakhiye.”

Dulari laughed, “Theek hai, aaj tumhari saari kholungi — bhai ki shaadi hai.”

I replied, “Dulari bhabhi, main to petticoat bhi nahin chhodungi.”

Meanwhile, I noticed a young, beautiful teen maid. “Hey, who is she?”

Dulari said, “Arre, ye Raghu Nau ki bahu hai. Ab yahi nau ka kaam karti hai.”

I was pleasantly surprised. “He was so young and already married?”

Dulari called her, “Basanti, idhar aao. Ye tumhari badi nanad hain — Rinu didi.”

Basanti came and tried to touch my feet. I lifted her up, opened her veil to see her face, and gave her 101 rupees. She hesitated, but I said, “Hey, meri chhoti bhabhi hai — munh-dikhayi to karni padegi.”

Mausi goaded her, “Apni nanad ko sham ko kas ke galli sunana.”

I pinched Basanti’s cheeks and said, “Aur kya? Main isse baksh dungi kya?”

She smiled and replied, “Arre, nanad hain to bina galli sunaye kaise chhod dungi?” Laughing, she went away.

Mausi chided Rashmi, “Arre Rashmi, akhir nanad ko kuch khilao-pilao bhi, ya sab ki sab meri beti ke peeche pad gayi, akeli dekh kar.”

Rashmi bhabhi laughed, “We thought nandoi ji must have already fed her on the way.”

Meanwhile, Mausa ji came and said, “Hey Rinu, a friend of your husband has come — Mr. Singh. He is our neighbor and has given the keys of his suite. You can keep your things there. It’s very close.”

I said, “Theek hai. Main abhi naha-dho ke taiyar hoke aati hoon.”

Rashmi bhabhi teased Ravi, “Arre nandoi ji, nanad ji ko jara theek se nahla-dhula dijiyega.”

I thought I would get some private time with Jiju, but Mausa ji spoiled it by saying, “Ravi, please drop her and come back immediately. We have to prepare the list of people going in the marriage and finish all reception arrangements.”

When we reached the room, I opened my suitcase and took out my lacy, sexy bras and panties, spreading them on the bed. Ravi’s eyes lit up with excitement.

“Jiju, kaun sa pehnu?” I asked.

He smiled wickedly, “Koi nahin.”

“Okay,” I said and put them all back. Then I brought out my choli. He picked the one with the deepest cleavage. I could clearly see his hardness.

“Now come and bathe me with your own hands,” I said.

“Yes, I will,” he replied, “but if I don’t reach back now, Mausa ji will come here.” Just then we heard his voice. Ravi went out laughing.

I took a bath and got ready. Following Ravi’s advice, I wore no bra or panty, only a very low-cut choli that generously showed my cleavage. As I was coming down the stairs, Ravi was going up. He was mesmerized. I deliberately dropped my anchal, showing my full breasts in all their glory.

He asked breathlessly, “Hey…”

I smiled and displayed my joban proudly. He squeezed my breasts slowly and exclaimed, “Wow!”

Bhabhi called from somewhere, “Hey nandoi ji, kya ho gaya?”

“Kuch nahin,” he replied and quickly went away.

The entire day was busy with marriage preparations — arranging boxes, gifts, making lists. Jiju was also occupied.

In the evening, more ladies arrived and songs began. Soon I saw Ravi’s mom and Gita coming. I touched his mom’s feet. She blessed me, “Khub masti lo.”

I hugged Gita, who had become more mature. She told me she was now in twelfth standard. I asked about Guddo. She said Guddo had got married last month but would come tomorrow for the wedding.

After finishing my chores, I joined the ladies. Mummy, Mausi, Mami, Rashmi bhabhi, and Dulari were all there. Bhabhi was singing some devotional songs first, as was customary. Then the banna songs started.

Mummy and Mami began, and I also sang a banna in praise of my brother:

“Aayo re Raghuraj banna, ban aayo re…  
Mathe maur, kaan bich kundal, dekh sabhe man bahve re…  
Aayo re Raghuraj banna…”

Everybody joined and appreciated it. Jiju’s mom (sasuji) hugged me and asked, “Bahu kiski hai?”

I crooned another one:

“Khelen Raja banre, sajon par chaupar…  
Khelen Rani banri, sajon pe…  
Phalli-chall jeet gayi Rani banari, jeet gayi Rani banre ki hansi…”

But when I looked at Gita and my bhabhis, I felt naughty. I began with a mild one:

“Naye naye palang ke naye char paaye, khatola na re…  
Mera Jija ki salhaj ne — Rashmi bhabhi ne, Dulari bhabhi ne —  
Solah yaar bulaye, vo to dona laake aaye…  
Ladka rove kahar-kahar, palanga hove charar-marar,  
Bistar pe hove gahsar-masar…  
Soja beta, naye papa aaye…”

Mom said, “Hey, you forgot your sasuji.”

I touched her feet and said, “Galti ho gayi, abhi lijiye.”

Dulari bhabhi responded, “Hey Rinu bibi, jab main chalu ho jaungi na, to apni bachati phirna.”

I laughed, “Arre bhabhi, aa jao maidan mein,” and began the next one:

“Mandir mein ghee ke diye jaley, mandir mein…  
Main tumse poochhoon, hey mere Jija, tumhari amma ka karobar kaise chale, mandir mein…  
Main tumse poochhoon, hey mere Jija, tumhari behna Gita ka karobar kaise chale…  
Unke raaton ka rozgaar kaise chale, unke jobanon ka vyapar kaise chale, mandir mein…”

Meanwhile, Mausi came and asked someone to serve Ravi as he had to leave. I offered, but Rashmi bhabhi went instead and served both Jiju and my brother. They were eating right in front of us, close enough to hear every whisper.

Mami rebuked me, “Arre Rinu, tumhare Jiju is eating and no gallis are being sung. Saali-salhaj sab aur galli dene wali nahin?”

Jiju supported her, “Arre Mami, aapki betiyon aur bahuon ko kuch aata thode hi hai.”

“Achha Jiju, batati hoon tumko,” I said, and started singing. Even Dulari bhabhi joined me:

“Hey mere Jiju khane ko baithe, kone mat baito — kone mein lage tatiya…  
Tumhari amma ke bil mein arag samaye, sarg samaye, ghoda-gadi ko pahiya…  
Bail ko sing, bhains ko chootar, arre meri bua ke saare bhaiya…  
Tumhari behna ke bil mein, Gita ke choot mein…  
Arag samaye, sarg samaye, ghoda-gadi ko pahiya…  
Bail ko sing, bhains ko chootar, arre mere saare bhaiya…”

Meanwhile, Basanti walked in, swinging her young, sexy chootar, and teased me, “Arre Didi, Jija ke bagal mein bhi to ek jaani baithe hain,” pointing towards my brother. “Unko bhi to kuch suna dijiye.”

“Kyon nahin? Bas tum mere paas baith jao,” I said and continued:

“Arre mere bhaiya, dulhe raja khane ko baithe…  
Tumhari bhabhi ke — Basanti bhabhi ke bur mein…  
Arag samaye, sarg samaye, ghoda-gadi ko pahiya…  
Bail ko sing, bhains ko chootar, arre meri bhabhi Basanti ke saare bhaiya…”

Dulari bhabhi objected, so I wrapped her in the next song:

“Cham cham batua rattan pahari ke ghar jaaye re…  
Vo batua jaaye Jija ke ghar pe, jinki bahna Gita badi gori re…  
Gita chudaye, duare duare apne bhaiya-bahaton ki chori…  
Vo batua jaaye Jija ke ghar pe, jinki salhaj badi gori — Dulari, Basanti badi gori…  
Dulari chudvaye, Basanti chudvaye, duare duare bhaiya-bahaton ki chori-chori…”

I knew I had stirred a hornet’s nest. The moment Jiju left, Rashmi bhabhi, Dulari, and Basanti joined forces to attack their nanad — me.

They started with a really hard one. Basanti led while Dulari supported. Rashmi bhabhi only played the dholak. Basanti pointed at me (Rashmi used my name since I was elder to Basanti):

“Jhamkoia more lal, dulhe raja bole…  
Ari unki behna ki bil mein, Rinu ki bil mein kuchh na jaaye…  
Sinkiyon na jaaye, tunmuniya na jaaye…  
Rinu saali ki bur mein haathi jaaye, oont bichara gota khaaye…  
Thopa-thopa bhitthur jaaye…  
Arre Rinu chinar ke bhonsade mein dulha jaaye, uske sab saale jaayen…  
Dono choonchi pakad ke dhakka lagayen…  
Dulha bhandua bole, mori behan ki buriya mein kuchh na jaaye…  
Arre Rinu chinron ki buriyan mein 900 bhandue samayen…  
Unki gandiyan mein gadhe-ghode samayen…”

It excited Rashmi bhabhi too. She took the lead and attacked me:

“Chhote daane wala nakbesar bahut bana, vo nakbesar pahne dulhe ki bahna Rinu rani…  
Hamare bhaiya se galwa chumavat chamke, hamare devar se roj kaatvat chamke…  
Chhote bunde wali choli gajab bani…  
Vo choli pahne Rinu saali…  
Hamare bhaiya se choli khulavat chamke, Basanti ke bhaiya se choonchi dabwavat chamke…  
Chhote daane wala bichhua gajab bana…  
Vo bichhua pahne Rinu nandi…  
Aravat baaje, karavat baaje, saari raat chudavat baaje…  
Arre Dulari ke bhaiya se chudavat baaje…”

It thrilled everyone. Ravi’s mom said, “Pahle ratjaga mein aisi hi maja aata tha.”

Mami added, “Arre, those were the days. Khub masti hoti thi.”

Mausi said, “Arre, nobody’s petticoat or choli was spared.”

Bua laughed, “You forget — in that marriage we nanads combined and stripped every bhabhi.”

Mausi retorted teasingly, “And when in the next ratjaga I became the groom and you the bride, I had inserted full six inches.”

I asked excitedly, “Hey, why don’t we have that now? It will be great fun. Just think what I can do with Gita or even Basanti.”

Mausi said, “Given a choice, I would still prefer it, but as you know, everybody goes with the marriage party and only a few elder women remain. So not much fun is left. These days girls and women also go in the Barat.”

“Yes,” I agreed.

Mummy lamented, “But the real fun was in ratjaga. It made marriages memorable. Today they have ladies’ sangeet — so artificial and contrived, only for show.”

Something clicked in my mind. I suggested, “Mausi, but if we do it tomorrow — a day before the marriage — then all of us can enjoy ratjaga and still join the Barat.”

Mausi said, “Yes, but there are two problems. First, earlier no men or boys were left at home, so the field was completely ours and we had real fun. How will you ensure no man comes to know what we are doing during ratjaga? Second, the marriage is only a day away and we have so much work. Nothing happens on ratjaga night except…”

It left me thinking for a moment. Dulari challenged me, “Hey Rinu didi, agar ratjaga hua na, to main doctor ban kar tumko khub mota injection lagungi.”

I got the idea and said, “Mausi, if I solve your problems, you will have to do two things for us.”

“Yes,” they all said eagerly.

I suggested, “We can use the hall on the roof. It can be closed from the stairs so no man will come or even know. And if Mausi agrees for ratjaga, we can finish all tomorrow’s work today itself and break early.”

Bua ji and Jiju’s mom (sasuji) liked the idea very much. Mausi smiled and asked, “What are the two things you want?”

“First, it should be hotter than ever — nobody should be spared. Second, we will start at 10 p.m. and continue till sunrise.”

Everybody agreed. It was confirmed — ratjaga would be held tomorrow.

I requested my sasuji (Ravi’s mom) to leave Gita with me as she would help finish the chores. Sasuji agreed. I also asked Basanti to stay, but Rashmi bhabhi teased her, “To phir tere mard ka upvaas hoga kya?”

Basanti laughed and said, “Nahin bhabhi,” then looked at me, “Meri nanad Gunja aaj hi apne sasural se aayi hai aur aap jaanti hi hain ki meri saari nanads chinar kaise apne bhaiya se phansi hain. To aaj ki raat woh maja le legi.”

I knew she was teasing me. “Hey Basanti, give us some hot tea. I promise — aaj to tum mard se bach jaogi, lekin kal ratjaga mein jam kar ragdai karungi.”

Gita, Rashmi bhabhi, and I started working. Soon Basanti also joined us. We finished all the work, but when I looked at the clock, it was already 3 a.m.

I took Gita to my room. “Gita, change into a nightie,” I said.

She blushed. “Arre bhabhi, aapke saamne…”

I pressed her breasts and said, “Arre, what is the difference? Tumhare thode chhote hain — mere tumhare bhaiya se dabwa ke bade ho gaye hain.”

[Maleficio]

Both of us changed into nighties, but sleep refused to come. I hugged Gita from behind and whispered, “Hey Rani, tell me the truth — has anyone ever squeezed your boobs?”

I cupped her young breasts softly over the nightie. She admitted shyly that yes, there was a boy who had done it, but only over her top.

Meanwhile, my fingers had already opened the buttons of her nightie and were pressing her firm teen breasts. “Nahin Bhabhi, please…” she protested weakly.

“Arre, you are screaming as if I have a lund and I’m going to fuck you right now,” I teased. “Holding like this helps you sleep better.”

Soon her erect nipples betrayed her — her breasts were clearly enjoying the attention. I increased the pressure and gently pulled her nipples. She let out a soft moan.

That was enough for me. I turned her towards me, kissed her softly on the lips, and she responded weakly. I hugged her tightly and began pressing my breasts against hers.

“Nahin Bhabhi, nahin…” she protested feebly, but by then my expert fingers had parted her thighs and were caressing her labia, which were already responding. The night full of sexy dances, bawdy songs, and dirty talk had made her hot, making my task much easier.

I slowly parted her lower lips and slipped one finger inside while my lips flirted with her nipple. I took her hand and placed it on my hard breasts. Though amateurish, her young hands fondling me gave me a special thrill.

I decided to increase the pace. I pressed my thumb on her clit and quickened the movement of my finger. “Hey Rani, how does it feel in your choot, Rani?” I asked.

“Oh Bhabhi… ummm…” she moaned, enjoying it while blushing at the same time.

I bit her nipple lightly and said, “Hey, don’t feel shy. Tomorrow, in front of everyone during ratjaga, I’m going to finger your choot and rub your choonchis after making you naked. After all, you are my only nanad.”

Just thinking about it made her cunt clutch my fingers tightly. I pulled my face away from her fully aroused breasts and moved between her thighs. My lips replaced my fingers as I began sucking her hungrily. My tongue moved deep inside her cunt while my fingers played with her folds.

I brought her close to orgasm several times but stopped just before she could come. Now she was begging desperately, “Bhabhi please… let me… let me…” She kept raising her hips, pushing her choot into my mouth.

I made her promise that during ratjaga she would participate fully and let me do anything I wanted. Only then did I suck her with full passion. She exploded in a powerful orgasm. My lips were soaked with her cunt juice.

I moved up, kissed her, and let her taste her own juice. For some time we just hugged each other.

Then I asked, “Hey Gita, won’t you take care of my choot’s masti?”

She agreed but said she didn’t know what to do. I made her sit between my thighs on the floor and guided her to suck me. I held her head and pressed it against me. Soon she learned. Her lips rubbed against my bur, making my nipples rock hard.

I grabbed her breasts and encouraged her, “Haan… haannn… Gita, aise hi… please aur zor se… khub zor se chus lo… chus lo apni bhabhi ki bur. Use your tongue.”

She got the idea. I was raising my chootar wildly in frenzy. It continued for some time until I came hard and collapsed on the bed.

We slept hugging each other, my fingers buried in her choot and her fingers in my bur.

I woke up first and saw Gita enjoying her beauty sleep. Her thighs were spread and her cunt looked inviting. I gave it a soft kiss. Her cunt lips fluttered in response, so I continued. She woke up, but by then my grip was total. I sucked her to another climax and whispered, “Good morning, Rani. Tonight we will do our good night like this only.”

She blushed and said, “Dhat!”

When I came downstairs, Rashmi Bhabhi was preparing bed tea. I joined her and we made breakfast for everyone. When Mausi woke up and went to the storeroom, she exclaimed in surprise. Mummy and Bua ji joined her and asked what had happened.

Looking at me and Rashmi Bhabhi, Mausi said, “Hey, lagta hai raat mein bhoot aaye the — see, everything is already done!”

We laughed and said, “No, Mausi ji, chudail thi.”

Meanwhile Basanti walked in. I told everyone, “Sabse zyada kaam to is chudail bhabhi ne kiya, par aaj raat dekho kya karti hoon — vo aap logon ka bhi record tod dengi.”

Basanti smiled and agreed. I asked her to invite all the women for ratjaga tonight.

Rashmi Bhabhi and I were given the task of organizing everything. We huddled together like a cricket team. The one thing bothering me was that I was the only nanad for so many bhabhis.

Basanti suggested including her nanad Gunja. Bhabhi proposed calling Alpi, and I immediately remembered her — she was Cheenu’s close friend. Gita said her cousin Guddo (whom we had teased mercilessly during Jiju’s wedding) would also be coming.

Suddenly there was commotion. Everyone rushed to hug and welcome Madhu Bhabhi (Cheenu’s maternal cousin and Kamal’s wife). I touched her feet but welcomed her with a galli:

“Bin badra ke bijli kahan chamki, arre Madhu Bhabhi ke gaal chamke…  
Inke choli ke andar anaar chamke, janghon ke beech mein darar jhalke.”

Madhu Bhabhi was accompanied by a well-endowed teen girl whose breasts were bursting out of her top. I was surprised. Mausi introduced her, “Arre, ye Kamal ki behan hai — Adi.”

I laughed, “Acha Bhabhi, mujhse meri behan ko galli dilwana chahti thi?”

But who could stop Dulari? She welcomed Adi loudly:

“Arre dulhe ki bahniya Adi rani pakki chinar…  
Adi rani ke hain do-do dwar…  
Ek jaaye aage, doosra peechhe…  
Bacha nahi koi, nauan kanhaar!”

Basanti laughingly completed the line. Adi flushed, but I said, “Till now I was the only nanad, but now you have joined. We will face all our bhabhis together.”

She smiled and said, “Yes Didi.”

I went upstairs to inspect the hall I had boldly promised for ratjaga. It was full of scrap and the windows were wide open. When I looked down from the roof, I saw Ravi entering the house.

“Jiju, please come up!” I called.

He laughed, “Yes Saali ji, I also like it that way — from the top.”

Soon he was with me. “Hey Rinu, just lie down. You want me on top?”

“Yes, very much,” I replied, “but not right now — my chinal nanad and your sister Gita is coming.”

I explained my problem. Gita joined us. Jiju wanted to ask her something, but I stopped him. “Hey Jiju, this is our ladies’ secret. Just help us please. Get some workers and clean this mess. Also, tell the tent-house people to cover the inside with thick, dark curtains.”

Gita suggested something for the floor too. Considering the wrestling that would happen here, I complimented her cleverness. I requested Jiju to arrange carpets, huge mattresses, masnads, and some round pillows.

Poor Jiju got to work immediately.

When we came down, the rituals had already started. The groom was being anointed with oil, and everyone asked me to sing. I crooned:

“Aaj more banre ko tel chadhat hai, tel chadhat hai, phulel chadhat hai…”

Next was the chumauna ritual, where ladies kiss the groom. When I went to kiss him, Madhu Bhabhi sang teasingly:

“Chumave raja banre, chume unki bahna…  
Udaave apna anchal, dikhve dono jobana.”

I responded when it was her turn.

The most teasing ritual was haldi. After it was over, the groom’s bhabhis chased all the devar and applied haldi everywhere. Suddenly I saw Ravi. I hid some haldi behind my back. When he realized my intention, he ran. I chased him, shouting, “Jiju, stop! Otherwise I will apply haldi to those places where even during your own marriage it was not applied.”

He slowed down deliberately so I could catch him. My hands first stamped his clothes, then slipped inside his pajama. Without hesitation I caught what I was looking for. Mummy had said it must be enormous (when Cheenu had to be stitched on her suhaag raat), but it was an understatement. I could barely grip it, and it was already stirring at my touch.

For more than five minutes I kept rubbing it until it rose to its full, glorious hardness. When I heard footsteps, I left it — but made sure his supara (cockhead) was fully exposed. Then I started applying haldi on his face.

It was Dulari. She asked, “What are nanad and nandoi doing alone?”

He caught her and started rubbing haldi on her cheeks, saying, “Waiting for salhaj.”

It was time for meals. Afterward, Mausa ji reminded Ravi about some work in the city. I said I would also go. Mausi requested Jiju to take me, but he said he was going by bike.

“Okay, I can ride on the bike too,” I said, and we went to our room.

There he told me the real reason for his hesitation. He had a friend Madan — the biggest wine merchant in town and very rich. Mausa ji wanted him to arrange drinks for the reception and marriage party. “I can meet your friend, yes,” I said.

Laughing, he said, “Okay, you can come, but you must change fast. I have to meet him in twenty minutes. To save time, why don’t you change in front of me?”

I smiled, closed the door, and danced like a stripper. “Anything for Jiju.”

I removed my sari in a circle and threw it over him. Then I took out a very tight T-shirt that stopped just above my navel. My choli joined the sari on his lap. I stood facing him in my bra and saya. My pink lacy demi-cup bra was barely holding my firm 36D breasts, which were eager to be freed.

I turned my back to him and begged, “Unclasp my hooks.”

He was highly aroused. I held the front of the bra so it wouldn’t fall, faced the wall, removed it, and threw it at him. Before he could react, I had pulled on the tight T-shirt. Then I slipped my hands inside my saya, removed my silky panty, kissed it, and threw it at him. He caught it and sniffed deeply.

I took out my jeans, wore it under the saya, and finally removed the saya, adding it to the pile on his lap.

I applied dark lipstick, kohl, and a sexy perfume, then let my long hair fall over my back. I was ready.

He was mesmerized. “Hey, you are looking so sexy,” he said and pulled me into his lap.

“I am sexy,” I replied.

He kissed me hungrily and said, “And a cheat too. You changed without showing me.”

I pushed my breasts forward. “You can look at them right now.” I lifted my shirt. He didn’t waste the chance and pulled it up completely. It was the first time he had seen them fully. He became wildly aroused. I pushed my hard tits into his mouth and he started sucking and eating them greedily.

Suddenly he remembered, “Hey, we have to reach my friend’s place!” We rushed downstairs.

The result of his kissing was that my nipples were now iron-hard and, with no bra to restrain them, they were poking prominently against his back as I sat behind him on the bike.

When we reached his friend’s place, both of us were fully aroused.

As I entered the drawing room with Jiju, I was surprised to see his friend — it was Amit, whom Jiju had introduced me to earlier as his close friend. I had hugged him that day, and after Jiju, Amit and his teen sister Nita had been next on my target list for gallis.

He smiled and we hugged warmly. Since he was Jiju’s close friend, the hug lasted longer as he boldly measured my breasts. We sat on the sofa and I sat close to him.

He asked, “Saali ji, what will you take — tea or coffee?”

I interjected playfully, “You both.”

I looked at his well-furnished bar and said, “Let me serve my Jijus today.” Swinging my hips erotically in the tight jeans that clearly showed the crack of my ass, I moved toward the bar.

Jiju said, “Whisky on the rocks for me.”

Amit said the same and asked, “And saali ji, what will you take?”

I smiled, “Something soft.”

Amit teased, “I thought my saali liked things hard.”

While making the drinks, the buttons of my top came undone. I came back with the glasses and, like a perfect saaki, offered one to Amit, deliberately letting the rim of the glass caress my visible breasts. Through my almost open top, he got a clear peep of my joban.

They were discussing arrangements for drinks at the reception. I said, “Hey, when you have arranged for DJ and all that, why make these arrangements secretly? I have seen proper furnished bars with barmaids in some parties.”

Amit said he had also started an event management company. “But saali ji, it is not fair. We are drinking and you are dry. At least take a sip from my glass.”

I smiled and said, “Yes Amit, but only thoda sa — just a sip.”

Amit brought the glass to my lips but poured almost half. “Hey, that’s not fair! You men say ‘thoda sa’ and pour everything.”

Both laughed. Ravi said, “And you? Maan to karti ho, par mana karti ho.”

Ravi also made me take a sip from his glass. Amit got up and brought an album of bar setups. Meanwhile, I refilled their glasses. There were photos of bars with barmaids in the skimpiest dresses. I showed one to Amit and said, “Jiju, how about this one?” He immediately agreed.

Then they started planning the drink requirement for the marriage party. I intervened again. “Hey, for how many are you making arrangements?”

Jiju said, “About 50-60.”

“No, make it double — at least 100,” I said.

Both looked confused. I explained, “Arre Jiju, the most interesting part of the Barat is dance and dhamal. You all drink to enjoy that, and dancing with ladies is the most fun. So why not get the ladies drunk too?”

Amit jumped at the idea, but Jiju asked, “Rinu, maybe some ladies drink, but what about those who don’t?”

I said, “Jiju, leave that to me. If I get some bottles of gin or vodka, they blend well with Limca, and rum goes with any cola. I can spike their drinks just before the Barat and we will all enjoy properly.”

“Yes!” Amit exclaimed. “Same can be done during the reception too. Whoever you select for dancing, the barmaids can come in handy.”

Amit called the counter and finalized everything. It was decided that whatever was required for the ladies, Jiju would pick up, and the rest would reach before the Barat started. Amit also said that since the idea of the bar and extra drinks came from saali ji, there would be no additional charges.

He gave me a bottle of Kesar — an exquisite Rajputana wine that also acts as an aphrodisiac. As Jiju went downstairs, Amit took me inside to show his collection of wines and other drinks.

I asked, “Do you have Chandan too?”

He laughed, kissed me, and said, “Saali ji, you are a real connoisseur. Yes, Chandan is the strongest — one peg is enough to make any lady forget all shame.”

Meanwhile, his hands had slipped inside my top. When he found no bra, he squealed in delight. He caught my breasts and rolled them slowly. Soon my top was almost off and he was sucking one tit while pulling and pinching the other. I was moaning in heat.

“These are the best pair I have ever seen,” he said, lost in pleasure.

I too had surrendered to passion and was rubbing his hardness over his pants. His tongue flicked my nipples expertly. Soon we heard footsteps and he quickly let go of me.

He gave me a bottle of Chandan (good for 50 pegs) and a special perfume from his exotic collection. “Put it on the nipples — it will make any girl wild. It keeps tits hard for 6-7 hours and increases passion so much that she cannot refuse. If you put just one drop on her clit, she will do anything to get fucked. Its smell also makes men rock hard for a long time.”

When we left, Jiju complimented me on how cleverly I had handled Amit and got so much done without extra charges.

He stopped near some dense woods because he wanted to pee. When he returned, I was sitting in front like a biker chick. He sat behind me and pulled me into his lap. I pushed out my breasts and he didn’t need to be asked twice. He began fondling, caressing, and crushing them hard. In no time my domes of joy were out. Without caring about the location, we were so aroused that we started enjoying ourselves right there.

Jiju was rubbing, crushing, and sucking my nipples while one hand rubbed my choot over my jeans. Before we could go further, we heard voices. Some boys were coming in our direction, so we had to stop and move.

I told Jiju I was feeling hungry. We stopped at an old-fashioned eatery and went to the top floor where the family cabins were almost deserted. A full-length curtain completely hid the view.

I teased, “Hey Jiju, how many other girls have you brought here?”

He laughed, “Many.”

As soon as the waiter took the order, Jiju became naughty again. His hands slipped inside my top and continued playing with my breasts. I reciprocated by rubbing his huge bulge. Even when the waiter came with the food, Jiju didn’t stop. I hid my breasts behind the menu card. Jiju gave him a generous tip and said, “Come after 15 minutes.”

The waiter smiled and left.

Now I could wait no longer. I opened his zip and out sprang his huge, thick, monstrous lund. “Wow,” I whispered — it was big and handsome.

Jiju pushed his hand under my jeans and squeezed my hungry cunt. We had lost all shame. He was shoving his fingers deep inside my choot while his lips sucked, bit, and devoured my breasts. I was rubbing his arousal hard. We were on the verge of fucking right there like animals.

I was raising my chootar wildly to welcome his fingers and was extremely wet. Jiju was rock hard. My eyes were closed and I was about to explode when suddenly he stopped and closed my pants.

The waiter was knocking.

Jiju was irritated — my climax had almost begun. The waiter said, “Sir, your bike is blocking someone’s car. Please move it.”

There was nothing we could do, so we came out.

Jiju reminded me, “Rinu, you had to do some shopping.”

“Oh yes, I forgot. We will have to go to the old city — you remember Natha Halwai and his famous laddus?”

“Yes,” he said and turned the bike.

“They are good, but they are spiked with bhang, and the special ones have double the dose of bhang with mewa.”

“Yes, exactly those.”

We bought 6 kg of them. Remembering the Chandan from Amit and its use tonight in ratjaga, I also bought two bottles of Chandan sorbet and a few big bottles of Limca and cola. They were selling Ayurvedic concoctions, so I bought one that induces deep sleep. The shopkeeper assured me it would make anyone sleep for 8-10 hours with no harmful effects.

I hired many dresses and implements from a costume shop and, on second thought, also purchased 3 dozen Nirodh (condoms).

When we got up, Jiju was in a hurry. He had to fetch his mom, Gita, and Guddo. I kept everything in my room and we went upstairs.

I told Mausi ji, “I met Pandit ji on the way. He said he forgot to tell you that some grahan is taking place, so all male members must finish dinner by 9 p.m. and everyone else by 9:30.”

Mausa ji immediately rushed everyone, “Yes, we must take dinner early.”

When I went into the kitchen, Rashmi Bhabhi was making meals. I told her the whole story and she started laughing. I also whispered in her ear and gave her the packet of the Ayurvedic concoction. “Prepare kheer and mix it in that. Make sure only the males eat it.”

She understood immediately.

I came out. Jiju was still waiting for me. I asked Mausi, “What will be the sleeping arrangement? Many more guests are coming.”

Both Mausa ji and Mausi ji said, “Beti, whatever you and Ravi decide.”

I said, “Jiju, please shift all the male members’ things downstairs. One room is for the bride, and in the other two rooms we will spread mattresses on the floor so all the ladies can sleep together.”

Mausa ji agreed. Jiju, with the help of my cousin and a few servants, got the shifting done.

[Maleficio]

I went to my room to change while Jiju left to fetch his mother. Mummy had told me to wear something fine, almost bridal. I did my makeup carefully, put on earrings, a nose ring, some jewellery, and dbangd a sari in traditional style.

However, underneath I wore a bra and panty that were almost puritan — hard to open — just to tease my bhabhis who were planning to have “choot darshan.” When I came downstairs, Mausa ji had already seated all the men for dinner and didn’t want to take any risk with the grahan.

When I entered the kitchen, Dulari was cooking. I pinched her heavy chootar. She squealed, and everybody burst out laughing. Rashmi Bhabhi told me the kheer was ready. I served it with my own hands, making sure every man got a full dose of the magic potion. Even the male servants were given a generous serving.

Meanwhile, Ravi returned with his mother, Gita, and Guddo. Guddo was looking gorgeous. I sent Gita to collect things from my room and we all went up to the hall. I called Rashmi Bhabhi and Basanti too, to check all the arrangements. There were carpets, mattresses, and masnads (round pillows). On one side a small mandap had been set up, and next to it was a slightly raised platform that could be used as a bed. I had kept the other things in the next room. I made them partners in everything. Basanti said she would tell her nanad Gunja, and Dulari bhabhi too.

When I came down, the crowd for ratjaga was already gathering. Along with Gita and Guddo had come Chameli from their village and a few other bhabhis. Mummy was teasing Mami, but Champa was retaliating on Mami’s behalf. My two mausis were also teasing, and Rashmi Bhabhi was looking for Adi. Cheenu’s friend Ranjana had joined too. Dulari had called the washerwomen and some other working ladies. There were already twenty-two women present. It was approaching 10 p.m.

Meanwhile, Bua came up from the ground floor with Adi. Bua was surprised that all the men were sound asleep. Adi laughed and told her that even after playing with her bangles and trying many tricks, everyone remained fast asleep.

Rashmi Bhabhi grabbed Adi and said, “Then what are we waiting for? Let all the nanads open their choots and we will fuck them the way their brothers fuck us every day.”

But Bua and Sasu ji scolded us all. “Arre chinalon, tumhari chooton mein itni aag lagi hai! First go upstairs and make proper arrangements. We will come after you.”

We all rushed to the hall. I had given Basanti and Adi the task of distributing the bhang-laced laddus. Gunja and Gita were distributing the Chandan sherbet, laced liberally with Chandan. We made sure no one entered the hall before being properly fed. As per my instructions, Dulari was given a double dose, and Basanti made her own nanad eat two laddus.

Soon everyone was in place. To my horror, Bua ji and my sasuji had selected Dulari and Champa to begin the proceedings.

Bua said, “Hey Dulari, first take attendance of all the chinars.”

Dulari called out the name of every lady. Each had to stand up, and to “check,” Dulari would remove her anchal and squeeze her breasts. When my turn came, I stood up and announced, “Rinu Chinar.” When Dulari tried to squeeze my joban, I shifted, hoping she would miss. But Rashmi Bhabhi and Basanti had anticipated it and held me firmly.

Dulari laughed, “Acha Rinu bibi, duniya bhar se dabwati ho, hamse dar rahi ho?” She squeezed my breasts very forcefully and asked Basanti to do the same. Then she asked, “Who else among the bhabhis wants to squeeze these choonchis?”

Soon Madhu Bhabhi and Rashmi slipped their hands inside my choli. When I protested, they said in unison, “Arre nanad rani, nandoi ji se kya blouse ke upar-upar se dabwati ho? Dabwa rahi ho to khul kar maja lo.”

They not only cupped and fondled my breasts but also pulled my nipples. Bua then took charge again. She came with a lathi and announced, “Aaj kis chinar ke ladke ki shaadi hai? Use bulakar usse gaana gavao.”

Mausi stood up and started singing while I played the dholak. She sang:

“Bhinsare chiraiya kanhe boli, bhinsare…  
Hamari nanad chinar, Rinu ki bua chinar…  
Arre hamare saiyan ne, unke bhaiya ne unki choli kholi,  
Arre choonchi tatoli…”

(This was the signal for Mummy, Mausi, and Mami to squeeze Bua ji’s breasts.)

Bua was not one to accept defeat. She retorted, “Arre Bhabhi, bina nanga shaadi ke din se roj raat bhar choonchi dabwati ho, jam kar chudwati ho, aur badnaam mujhe kar rahi ho.”

She then announced, “After my brother’s successful chudai, this boy was born. Now let us have a sohar (childbirth song). Who will sing?”

Rashmi Bhabhi, who had just pulled her hand out of my choli, said, “Dulhe ki bahna.”

Now it was my turn. I squeezed Madhu Bhabhi’s breasts and sang, “And dulhe ki bhabhi will only get fucked by her devar.”

She smiled and replied, “No, why only bhabhi? Meri nanad bhi jab chahe, mere devar se chudwa le.”

Madhu Bhabhi added, “Arre, chudwati hi hain. That is why we both got such expert husbands.” They admitted they had practised on Rinu bibi.

Mummy told me, “Hey, apne bhai ke hone ka sohar to suna do, Rinu.”

Indicating towards my bua ji and my nanads, I sang:

“Dil khol ke maango nanadi, maangan ki bahar hai…  
Choli mat maango nanadi, mere joban ki bahar hai…  
Kahe sune jo choli doongi, bandh loongi kaat re…  
Ghoda mat maango nanadi, mere saiyan ki savaari re…  
Kahe sune jo ghoda doongi, launda loongi kaat re…  
Dil khol ke…  
Arre saiyan mat maango nanadi, more saij ka singaar re…  
Saiyan ke badle bhaiya doongi, chodi choot tumhaar re…  
Arre bur khol ke maango nanadi, maangan ki bahar re.”

(While singing, I squeezed Guddo’s breasts — my nanad and Jiju’s cousin.)

Now my sasuji asked, “Ab kaun chinar gaana sunayegi?”

Bhabhi said, “Dulhe ki bahna,” but sasuji teased Mausi, “See, my bahu has sung a song, but it seems all your bahus have big fat gadhe ka lund in their mouths, that’s why they cannot sing.”

Madhu Bhabhi took the challenge and sang:

“Ratiya chumma laale balma, sabka maalum hoyi gaya na…”

(She pulled Gunja — Basanti’s nanad — and made her dance.)

“Ek haath kamar pe rakhe, doosre se jobana dabaye…  
Sabka maalum ho gaya na…”

(While singing, she squeezed Gunja’s breasts and asked, “Kyon, mard aise hi dabata hai na saari raat?”)

Then she came to me, made me dance, and while singing “Dheere se more lehnga uthaye,” she lifted my sari and saya. I couldn’t do anything because Basanti and Dulari had already held my hands. This time Gunja and Gita also joined, but to their dismay I was wearing almost knicker-like panties.

They complained, “It is foul, Bhabhi!” and pulled down my knickers. Meanwhile I got free because Madhu Bhabhi had caught her young teen nanad Adi. Adi was not so lucky. While singing “Dheere se more lehnga uthaye, poora lund ghusaye, sabka maalum ho gaya na,” Madhu Bhabhi made Adi bend, lifted her skirt, and Rashmi Bhabhi inserted her fingers inside Adi’s panty, moving them as if she was fucking her.

By now the atmosphere was becoming very hot.

Suddenly someone came as a Jyotishi (astrologer). She held Gunja’s hand while Basanti joined her nanad. The “pundit” was asked when my nanad would become pregnant.

The “pundit” said, “Arre, ye ulte kaam karvati hai. Iska mard neeche rehta hai aur yeh upar chadh ke chodti hai. Ek din tumhara nandoi gabhin ho jaayega.”

Everybody laughed. But Basanti asked seriously, “To Pundit ji, what is the solution and who is responsible?”

The pundit replied, “Aaj poornima hai. Aaj iski paanch bhabhis mil kar isko achhi tarah chod-chod kar chudai sikhayen. Jab yeh seekh jaaye, tab hum sabke saamne apne mard se chudvaye — to ho sakta hai.”

I joked, “Aur Pundit ji, aapko kis se chudwana achha lagta hai?”

She replied, “Aapke bhaiya se.”

When I pulled the chaddar, it was nobody but Rashmi Bhabhi. Mami stopped us all and said, “Arre, ghar mein shaadi hai — kuch gaana-vana to ho, naach ho.”

Dulari announced, “Apne ilaake ki sabse mashhoor randi yahan hai,” and everybody asked who. Basanti pointed at me, “Arre Rinu didi.”

They made me wear ghungroo and I started dancing:

“Bharatpur loot gaya raat mori amma, jab re sipahiya ne mora ghoonghata pakdo…”

(I caught Guddo and made her dance with me.)

“Nayan dono juda gaye raat mori amma…”

(I kissed Guddo on the lips. For the next line it was Gita.)

“Arre raat mori amma, julmi sipahiya ne choli pakdi, choli pakdi…  
Arre joban dono dat gaye raat mori amma…”

(Now it was Gita’s turn. I opened her choli properly, unsnapped her bra, showed her breasts to everyone, and fondled them while singing, “Roj roj tumhare bhai jam kar ragadte-masalte hain, aaj tum bhi to choonchi dabwa lo.”)

Everybody joined in the music. Next was Basanti. She took a whirl lovingly.

“Arre julmi sipahiya ne mora lehnga khola, lehnga khola…  
Bharatpur loot gaya raat mori amma…”

(This time other nanads — Gunja and Adi — stood ready to help.) While singing, I lifted Basanti’s sari and saya. Her hands were caught by Gunja and Adi. I raised it just below her choot, but everybody shouted, “Thoda aur upar!” I opened it a little more and suddenly exposed her young choot covered with soft brown jhant. Gunja immediately grabbed it.

We were distracted by a Vaidya (doctor). “Aa gaye Vaidya Banaras ke…”

He claimed he could cure all pains of the tummy and even below — including choot ki jalan — with special medicine.

Madhu Bhabhi brought Adi forward and said, “See, my young nanad has a lot of burning sensation down there.”

The Vaidya said, “Arre saaf bolo — choot mein.” He lifted her skirt. Adi tried to protest, but Basanti and Guddo held her firmly. He put his finger inside her panty and said, “It is simple. Did you eat baigan yesterday?” Adi nodded. “That is the trouble. She has taken a big baigan in her choot and a worm has entered too. I am putting a lotion — wrap it around her brother’s lund and shove it deep. She will be cured.”

Next, Guddo was caught and disrobed. Rashmi Bhabhi asked whether her boobs were ready for milking. The Vaidya opened her joban, showed them to everyone, and said, “Every morning and night she must get them massaged by her brother.”

The Vaidya was looking for me, but I had slipped away and returned dressed as a security officer inspector. Adi and Gunja joined me as constables. Gita complained that her trinkets had been stolen and she suspected Rashmi Bhabhi.

Mausi and Bua ji became the judges. They ordered, “Talashi lo saali ki.”

I pushed my hands inside her choli and brought out some trinkets. “Yes, they are mine,” Gita confirmed. I said, “Theek se,” and Adi opened Bhabhi’s blouse and threw it away, followed by her bra. Her breasts spilled out. I said, “It may be hidden below,” and we forced her down, lifted her lehnga and saya, and while showing everyone, I forced two fingers into her very wet choot and brought out a ring. “Dekho saali ne kahan-kahan chhupa rakha hai.”

When I asked who else was in her gang, she murmured something and I dragged Basanti forward. She received similar treatment, but this time I enjoyed squeezing her young choonchis. Adi brought out some more trinkets from Basanti’s choot.

But Basanti, being the rogue she is, pointed at my sasuji and said, “Inspector Sahib, our leader is her.”

I had no choice but to approach her respectfully, but she whispered, “Bahu, ratjaga mein security officer wala aise nahin bolta.”

I returned to character and thundered, “Arre chinar, sheher bhar ke gundo se chudwa-chudwa kar apni ladkiyon Gita aur Guddo se randi ka dhandha karwakar man nahin bhara, jo chori bhi shuru kar di!”

Now my mummy, mausi, and bua ji pounced on her for talashi and almost undressed her completely.

Similar scenes were happening everywhere. Dulari was entangled with Gunja, and Rashmi Bhabhi was busy with Guddo.

Next came a ghost. All tricks were tried, but it ultimately demanded, “I want doodh from Rinu.”

My bhabhis laughed and said, “But she is not even gabhin.”

The ghost replied, “No? Then call a bull and make her pregnant. When she delivers, give me milk from her choonchis.”

I was made to act as a cow. It was announced that whoever wanted to become the bull could come forward. All my bhabhis, including Dulari and Basanti, agreed. But I put a condition: “I will check — unless it has a lund, how can it be a bull?”

It was agreed. When I lifted Basanti’s saya, a 9-inch lund (made with Nirodh) jutted out. She showed it to everyone. I remembered I had told her about the condoms.

My petticoat was lifted. There was no panty to save me. Basanti shoved it inside me, followed by Madhu Bhabhi. After “getting pregnant,” I acted as if I was delivering a calf. Dulari came and “milked” me, offering the milk to the ghost (she had filled a glass beforehand). The ghost said, “Yes, but I will drink it from the cow’s tits itself,” and drank the milk straight from my breasts. When her face was revealed, it turned out to be Madhu Bhabhi.

Then all the rituals of marriage were repeated. I was made the groom and I selected Basanti as the bride. A lot of songs were sung. After the “marriage,” everybody said, “Since we have watched the wedding, we must watch the bedding too.”

I had no objection. I used Basanti’s trick with the Nirodh lund and really fucked her. But I was not alone — pairs of nanad and bhabhi were formed everywhere and all were in action.

Suddenly the power went out and we all cried out in joy. Soon saris, blouses, bras, and petticoats were scattered all over the hall. I could count at least three women doing it with me at different times. Every time I came, I made sure they came too.

When the light came back, the voltage was low and the hall was dimly lit — which suited us perfectly. All my bhabhis — Madhu, Rashmi, Dulari, and Basanti — got their chance with me, and I didn’t spare them either. I searched for my young nanads Gunja and Guddo, made them lick my choot, and fingered them hard until they came twice each.

I had developed a special heat for my younger sister-like Adi. I thought twice but decided to go ahead. She welcomed it warmly. It turned out she was quite a pro and knew exactly how to lick a choot.

Before the night ended, Basanti was made to “deliver” a child — a cloth doll. We all came down just after 6 a.m. and started the morning chores.

Sheepishly, Madhu Bhabhi and I went downstairs and found everyone still sound asleep.

A new bond had clearly been formed among us.

During lunch, Ravi joined us. Guddo and Gita were standing with him. How could I lose this chance for gallis?

“Nili si ghodi gaj neem se bandhi, chalo dekho to lo…  
Arre mere Jija ki bahna gayi thi dekhne, vo to chadh gayi khajur…  
Unki sarak gayi skirt aur dikh gayi bur… Nili si ghodi…”

But Guddo took charge and attacked me:

“Arre dulhe ki bahna gayi thi dekhne, vo to chadh gayi att…  
Unki khul gayi sari aur dikh gayi choot…”

The fact that she could use such words in front of her own brother showed just how charged the atmosphere had become.

[Maleficio]

Everybody was dressed to kill for the Barat. Adi, Guddo, and Gita had served “cold drinks” to all the ladies (after I had made sure they consumed them liberally), and soon the atmosphere was charged with sexual currents. A night of ratjaga, days of the bawdiest gallis and jokes, and the thrill of all possibilities had loosened everyone up. There were no barriers of age, relation, or position.

A friend of my brother, KD, came and couldn’t stop staring at Gita’s growing teen breasts. Jiju was not far behind. I teased him, “Hey, you have a nice chance of making your Jija a saala. Not only that, Jiju will also be happy because it will make him a mama in nine months.”

He asked how. Gita blushed. I said, “Just take this lovely sister of yours to a corner for half an hour and ‘do’ what every male in town is thinking of doing with her. It will give you joy, and in nine months she will make Jiju a mama — he’ll be happy too.”

Gita said, “Dhat!” and ran away, but she collided with Dulari, who teased her in her usual style, “Arre, itna ladne, choonchi dabwane aur chudwane ka shauk hai to itne ladke ghar mein hain — kisi se bhid lo!” While saying this, she squeezed Gita’s breasts.

All the girls were looking stunning, and my bhabhis were wearing revealing, tight, low-cut dresses.

I had got a special dress made for the Barat — a pink lehnga with gold embroidery. It was designed to beautifully highlight the curves of my wide hips, with the embroidery becoming denser over my plump buttocks. It was tied much below my deep navel (a close example would be Kareena Kapoor tying her sari in Chameli, but mine was even lower). On my flat, fair tummy and slender waist, I wore only a golden chain that accentuated and guided every gaze toward my deep navel and the treasures below it.

My choli was in traditional Kuchhi style, starting just below my firm 36D breasts. It was tailored to follow the contours of my boobs but stopped just above my nipples. It had string-like support and was completely backless. The embroidery made everyone feast on my beautiful breasts. Of course, there was a red chunri, but it was trying unsuccessfully to hide one breast while the other remained openly inviting to admirers (and to the hands of my Jiju).

I was sitting in the car between Amit and Jiju, sharing drinks. Both were looking at my breasts lecherously. I crooned an old song: “More jobana ka dekho ubhaar…”

Amit said, “Hey, let me look at them with my hands.”

Meanwhile, the Barat had stopped and dancing had begun, as the bride’s house was close. Amit signalled something to the band and danced with me to the tune of “Humne maana hamper sajan, jobanva bharpoor hai…” from Dada.

I saw Adi looking breathtaking in a tank top and short skirt. I introduced her, and Amit immediately dragged her to dance. Jiju and I made all the ladies join in. It was so different, so hot. Everybody was holding, hugging, and grinding against each other, thoroughly enjoying themselves.

Soon I spotted Madhu Bhabhi, who had just finished dancing with her devar. I pointed her out to Jiju and he pulled her in. They were almost rubbing their bodies together. It was my turn to signal the band to play my favourite — “Dhak Dhak” from Beta. Madhu Bhabhi showed even more oomph and cleavage than Madhuri, and her breasts were almost spilling out.

We had reached the bride’s house, but the dance showed no signs of stopping. Rashmi Bhabhi and Amit pushed me forward, and now it was only me and Ravi Jiju — both adept dancers. After a few numbers, the song changed to “Choli Ke Peeche Kya Hai.” Guddo and Madhu Bhabhi had already pulled my chunri away as it was interfering with the dance. I hesitated for a micro-second but then surrendered to the spirit of the moment, pushing out my chest and showing exactly what was behind my choli.

Ravi danced beautifully. His lower body was almost blending with mine. One hand caressed my fully exposed back while his naughty fingers traced lines on my midriff. His other hand was unashamedly squeezing my plump ass. I pushed my mound against him, my breasts tantalizingly close to his chest.

The song changed to “Jumma Chumma De Chumma,” and everybody started chanting. I teasingly brought my cheek close to his and swayed it away at the last second. It went on and on until suddenly Ravi held my hands, pulled me close, and kissed me full on the lips. I responded warmly. Our feet and bodies kept dancing while everyone clapped thunderously.

Jiju, despite all his pranks and bawdy language, was a gentleman at heart. He asked hesitantly, “Rinu… it was the heat of the moment…”

I put my hands on his shoulders and said, “But it was the most precious moment of my life. And if you didn’t like it, I will return the kiss.” I kissed him on the lips right in front of all his friends.

Now he was back to his true self. He pinched my bottom hard and said, “Mang gaye saali, tum to pakki saali ho!” Then he poured a stiff drink between my lips.

Soon we noticed some young teen girls from the bride’s family — they were Jiju ke saale ki saali. Amit and Ravi exclaimed, “Ye gauriya to badi mast hain.”

I said, “Jiju, don’t worry. After all, she is saale ki saali. I will arrange an introduction sometime.”

I called Adi, whispered something in her ear, and she giggled but said, “Let Jiju pay me first.” Both Ravi and Amit obliged with generous tips. Soon we saw Adi chatting with those girls. It turned out the eldest, Rupa, was the bride’s cousin, 18 years old and just starting graduation. The younger one, Sona, was her close friend and had turned 16 a few months ago. She was in eleventh standard.

I also went over, chatted with them, and introduced them to Jiju and Amit. I made them sit in such a way that Sona was between Amit and Jiju, while Rupa was trapped between me and Adi. Soon both Jijus had their hands on the girls. Adi called a photographer. I asked her, “Hey, you too joined us?” She said, “Sure.”

Without thinking twice, Adi sat in Jiju’s lap and told Rupa and Sona, “You know, this is the correct place for a saali to sit.” That broke the ice. Amit and Jiju, being themselves, soon turned the banter into bawdy jokes. Rupa and Sona were blushing but neither objected nor tried to leave. They promised they would definitely come for the reception. Since they were from the same city and now in this “interesting” relationship, they would love to meet again.

All this was making me hotter, and Jiju was becoming desperate too. Dinner finished much before midnight, and the marriage was scheduled for 2 p.m. We still had nearly three hours.

Jiju was sitting close to me. Suddenly I said, “Mausa ji, I’m sorry — oops, I forgot!”

Everybody exclaimed, “What happened?”

“I think I forgot the bride’s box,” I said.

Mausi exclaimed, “How could you? It is the most important thing!”

Mausa ji comforted her and said, “It is still two and a half hours away. Rinu can go and fetch it. It won’t take more than one or one and a half hours.” As usual, he called out, “Ravi, will you please rise to this crisis? Go with Rinu and bring that box.”

Guddo smiled and said, “Bhabhi, while you are going back home, please bring a shawl for me — it’s getting cold.” Madhu Bhabhi added her request too.

Jiju got up, pretending to be unwilling, and joined me. We got into the car. He asked, “Hey Rinu, are you sure where the box is? I thought I had kept it.”

I laughed and said, “Yes, it is right here in the boot of this car.” He immediately got the message, pinched my breasts, and said, “You are a real chinar.”

I pretended to be angry. “No, the real chinar is your sister Guddo and Madhu Bhabhi. They must have guessed — that’s why they asked for shawls, to make sure we go home. Otherwise we would have ‘used’ this time right here.”

His one hand hugged me and squeezed my breast as he said, “Don’t worry, darling. We will reach home in no time and then we can use that time properly.”

He drove fast. When I lovingly drew a line over the front of his pants, there was no bulge — it was a full, hard erection of more than eight inches. I opened the buttons of his coat and, while he was driving, removed it. Next came the buttons of his shirt and the front zip. I rubbed his lund hard and even bent down to kiss it.

We almost rushed to my room. I bent to open the strings of my choli and untie the knot of my lehnga, but it was not to be. My choli had just left me when I felt my lehnga slide down to my waist and my panty ripped open.

Jiju’s mighty, majestic lund was knocking at the doors of my choot, and there would be no interruption this time. He had picked up my moisturizer and used it liberally on his lund and inside my choot. It didn’t take any time. By the time I could look back, he had caught my rasili mast choonchis and his lund was inside me. I almost screamed, but both of us knew the house was empty — no one would respond.

My choot felt split apart — a strange mix of joy and pain. I had been longing for this, eagerly waiting to get my choot fucked by Jiju, but I couldn’t ignore the feeling of being torn. With the force of his thrust, my head banged into the bed and my ass rose high in the air. Jiju mercilessly crushed my breasts and shoved further. This time I bit my lips hard, but a loud scream still escaped.

Now Jiju left my breasts, gripped my slender waist, and with full force pushed even deeper. My cunt was squeezing and hugging him, but there was heavy resistance as he penetrated virgin territory. He stopped, rubbed my labia and clit, and the pain slowly receded, though my choot still ached.

I was thinking it was over when Jiju interrupted, “Don’t say it is hurting — almost half of my lund is still outside.” A chill of fear and joy ran down my spine. Still more…

I decided to dare him. Although my choot was aching, the joy was intense. I teased, “To baaki lund kya apni behna Gita aur Guddo ke liye bacha kar rakha hai?”

That made him furious. He drew his lund almost completely out, captured my lips in a deep kiss, gripped my hips, and shoved it almost fully inside. It hurt like hell, but my cries were drowned in his kiss. His rubbing of my clit, pulling of my tits, and the effect of the special Kesar wine we had taken earlier made me bounce back quickly. I started pushing my hips, my choot squeezing his lund, my breasts rock hard. My nipples were being bitten and chewed but kept inviting more.

I will not say the pain vanished completely. My choot was fully stretched and had a sweet ache. Now Jiju was pounding me mercilessly. My moans had overtaken my cries, and soon frenzy swept over both of us. We were fucking like maniacs. Jiju’s nails scratched my back and my mast joban while his lund moved furiously like a piston. It went on and on. My hips were gyrating, my chootar answering every dhakka with equal force. Jiju cupped my ass and one finger scratched the crack of my gaand. I felt apprehensive — “Oh, not here” — but his fingers moved to the front, pinched my clit, and triggered my explosion.

Wave after wave crashed over me. I squeezed my choot hard, but Jiju kept pounding. Only after ten more minutes of intense chudai did he come. He raised my chootar high and ensured not a single drop escaped. I was completely collapsed.

My experience was cataclysmic. I lay there until he kissed my lips. I gave him a weak smile. But we had to go back, so we collected the shawls demanded by my nanads and bhabhis.

I also needed to change, so I took out a sari, blouse, and saya from the wardrobe. Jiju got dressed too. When I looked at him, his mighty lund was still almost hard. I kept my clothes on the bed, bent down, and took a mouthful. I first kissed his supara, teasing his pee hole, then took it in one gulp between my smoldering lips. I had to spread my lips extra wide; my cheeks were bursting, but I kept sucking. With my henna-painted hand I grabbed the rest of his lund and caressed it lovingly. Jiju was moaning, his face full of joy. Seeing his pleasure made me increase my tempo. My hands now caressed his balls.

He was so excited that he made me lie on my back on the bed. He placed two thick pillows under my gaand. I put my long, slender legs over his broad shoulders. His lund again invaded my choot. This time, in the frontal position, I could see every stroke. It was still hurting, but I was enjoying it too. He was crushing my breasts and pushing very hard. My silver anklets played beautiful music with every dhakka. The base of his lund rubbed my clit, my tits were being chewed by his lips… It was sheer joy.

This time too, when he came, he lifted my chootar high and made sure not a drop escaped. I wanted to get dressed, but he selected a thin thong for me. He made me wear it while I was lying down and even tucked it between the folds of my choot and the crack of my gaand. He instructed me to squeeze my choot and ensure no drop came out. He helped me with the saya and tied the sari in my sexy style, just over my hips. When I tried to put on a bra, he stopped me. I wore the choli over my bare breasts. It was low-cut, so he opened just one button and pulled my tits out. One squeeze and they were hard again. He made me squeeze his lund between them until a big glob of cum landed on each tit, and he made me leave it like that.

During the trip back, I kept my hips raised, but when we rejoined the Barat it became almost impossible to hold. Soon we had to sit with the rest of the marriage party, and right there in the angan my choot started oozing Jiju’s cum. The joy of that chudai lingered long after it was over.

In the morning, vidai took place and we returned home. I participated in all the rituals of barring the bride’s entry, but my mind was constantly on Jiju, who kept teasing me. Everybody was tired, and I was even more so after two sleepless nights — first ratjaga and then the wedding with such brutal chudai by Jiju.

I told Mausi, “I am going to catch a nap and will be back in three or four hours.” I gave a duplicate key to Adi and Gita, saying they could join me if they wanted. Rashmi Bhabhi teased, “No, I thought you had already caught something big in your honey trap.”

I gave her a choicest galli and went to my room.

I changed into a nightie and sleep claimed me very fast. It was the combined tiredness of two nights awake, the Sapphic joy of ratjaga, and the furious fucking by Jiju the previous day, along with the sex-filled atmosphere. Soon I was floating in dreams — music, dances… and then I dreamt that I was enveloped by a pair of strong, handsome arms hugging me with authority, clasping me against a broad chest. I was losing myself, surrendering to an overpowering ocean of joy. I felt I was swimming on waves of sweet kisses and was fully aroused.

Soon my body recognised Jiju’s presence. It was a state between dream and awakening. I could feel pressure on my hard breasts and my tunnel of longing was wet, its doors feeling slight tapping. I didn’t want to break the dream, so I hugged him tighter. A gentle bite on my earlobes made me open my eyes, and I could not believe it. It looked like the real Jiju was hugging me. One hand was adoring my domes of joy while the other held me close.

I thought I should pinch myself, but it wasn’t necessary — Jiju bit my tits, which were more awake than the rest of my body. My dress had left me while I was sleeping, and there were no barriers between us and Jiju. I raised my legs and crossed them over him. We were in a side position, facing each other. This gave his ever-hungry, greedy lund the chance to kiss my smiling, welcoming choot. His lips were kissing and sucking mine while his lower lips rubbed and caressed my choot. My juicy choot surrendered and opened the doors of joy, welcoming his dart of Cupid inside. It was no longer unfamiliar territory, and it made its way slowly, expanding and piercing. He was in no rush this time, unlike the previous day. His hands played music with my breasts softly. One hand titillated my labia and flirted with my clit. I responded unashamedly. My tight choot crushed and squeezed his lund. My nails scratched his ass, and sometimes my long nail reached his puckered hole. When I teasingly pushed it inside, he hugged me hard and shoved his lund almost fully in.

He came over me and started chudai in full frenzy. His lips sucked, licked, ate, devoured, and chewed my tits. His hands played with, pulled, and pinched my clit while I pushed my chootar up to meet every thrust. It went on and on. My joban was crushed under his manly broad chest. We lost all sense of time. I don’t know what triggered it, but I climaxed first. I almost screamed in joy, scratched him, and bit his shoulders. That must have triggered his climax too. He kept on cumming. His semen flowed onto my thighs. When I stood up, I greedily cleaned his lund with my mouth.

He dressed and left. But for the marks on my breasts and cheeks and the cum on my thighs, I would have thought it was just a dream.

I took a bath and got ready.

[Maleficio]

Mausi ji was looking for me. She assigned me the task of preparing Chavi (the bride and wife of my cousin) and bringing her for the munh-dikhayi ceremony, where close relatives look at the bride’s face. She is expected to touch their feet, and everyone who sees her face gives her a gift.

I went to the bride. She was a bit tired after the night-long rituals. I told her to take a quick bath. She did her bright bridal makeup and was soon ready. I briefed her about the different family members and advised her to remain joyful. No matter what kind of teasing or bawdy jokes came her way, she should reply with a smile. Although she might feel shy, in our environment everyone would rate her highly if she responded playfully to those relatives with whom she had a joking relationship — especially her nandoi (my Jiju), the nanads, and many others. I also warned her that she would have to sing a few songs, and it would be even better if she could manage one or two lewd ones.

When she came out, all the ladies crowded around her. The older ladies went first, but they were by no means sober. When she touched the feet of her bua-saas, my mummy goaded her, “Hey bahu, why don’t you lift your saas’s saya and see the place where your sasur did all the training?”

When it was Mummy’s turn, she gifted her a beautiful pair of silver payal (anklets full of bells) and said, “Yeh roz har raat tumhare dulhe ke kaan mein bajengi.” Realising the implication, we all burst out laughing.

Madhu Bhabhi asked, “But how will they ring during those five days?”

Mummy replied with a wink, “Palat kar” (from the other side, meaning her asshole would be used).

When it was Rashmi Bhabhi’s turn, I thought of a prank. I slipped something into the bride’s anchal and whispered “scorpion.” In a hurry, the bride lifted Rashmi Bhabhi’s sari. All the nanads — me, Adi, and others — could not stop laughing.

Adi asked, “Kyon Bhabhi ji, Bharatpur ke darshan kara diye?”

Next came the turn of the gents. When Jiju’s number arrived, Basanti told Chavi, “You have touched two feet of everybody, but with nandoi it is the turn of the middle feet.”

This time even the bride could not stop herself from smiling. She touched his feet in the normal fashion but then folded her hands, indicating towards his “middle feet.” We all rolled with laughter.

Then came the turn for songs. She sang a few devotional songs followed by some folk songs. I goaded her, “Hey Bhabhi, jara apni saas-logon aur nandoi ko to kuch suna dijiye.” She started singing. (Whenever certain “words” came up, Dulari and Basanti helped her, but she herself did not blush.)

She began:

“Baar baar nanadi darwaje daudi jaaye, kahna na maane re…  
Hamare saiyan ji ki bahna darwaje daudi jaaye, kahna na maane re…  
Halwaiya ka ladka to Adi ji ka yaar hai, laddoo pe laddoo khilaye chala jaaye, kahna na maane re…  
Darzi ka ladka to Nandi ji ka yaar hai, vo to Rinu ka yaar hai…  
Arre choli pe choli, body pe body silaye chali jaaye, kahna na maane re…  
Meri sasuji ka ladka, meri amma ka ladka to sab nandon ka yaar hai…  
Raaton mein roj…”

(And Basanti added, looking at me and Adi, “Raaton mein roj chudvaye chali jaaye.”)

(Every time my nanad runs to the door… Sister of my husband runs to the door… Son of the sweetmeat seller is Adi ji’s lover, he feeds her laddoos one after another… Son of the tailor is Nandi ji’s lover, he is Rinu’s lover too… She gets choli after choli stitched, her body measured… Son of my mother-in-law and son of my mother — my brother — is the suitor of all my nanads and at night he fucks them regularly.)

Chavi Bhabhi looked at me and smiled. She received full support from all my bhabhis and the older ladies, including my mummy, who looked at Bua and said, “Saali, saari nanads chinar hoti hain.”

But Chavi Bhabhi continued with the next one:

“Raghunandan bin bajayo ki nahin…  
Apni bahna ko tum nachayo ki nahin…  
Tamboo taan rakhungi, dholak taiyar rakhungi, manjira paas rakhungi…  
Nandoi ji, apni saali ki — Rinu nanadi ko aaj nachaiyo ki nahin…  
Thoda vo aaj nachengi, thoda vo kal nachengi, parson din raat nachengi…”

(And now Dulari joined Chavi Bhabhi)

“Tamboo taan rakhungi, dholak taiyar rakhungi, manjira paas rakhungi…  
Nandoi ji, apni saali ki — Rinu nanadi ko aaj chudvaiyo ki nahin…  
Thoda vo aaj chudayengi, thoda vo kal chudayengi, parson din raat chudayengi…”

She received thunderous appreciation. Even I, who was the target of her gallis, hugged her warmly.

After some time I shooed away the girls who were still teasing her and told Mausi ji to let Chavi relax. It was already midday. She agreed readily and asked me to take her to the beauty parlour at 4 p.m.

I ushered Chavi inside the room and bolted the door from inside. I smiled at her impishly and told her to remove her sari and relax. She looked surprised. Laughing, I said, “You sat cross-legged the entire night yesterday, and tonight your legs will remain raised in the air with your piya ji, so it is time to let them relax. I have kept a gown for you. Change into something comfortable. For the next three to four hours, no one will come here, so just relax and get ready for the final assault.”

To make her comfortable, I removed my own sari. She smiled and went to the bathroom. When she came out in the nightgown, it was very open and had only a few buttons. Her breasts, caged in the Victoria’s Secret bra (a munh-dikhayi gift from her nandoi, my Jiju Ravi), were clearly visible.

I giggled and teased her, “Hey, it is foul — release these doves too!” Before she could react, I unsnapped the front-open bra and took it out. My gaze travelled downward and, yes, she was still wearing panties. I threatened playfully, “Hey, will you take it down or should my hands perform this pleasant task?” Laughing, I tried to lift her gown. She joined in the laughter and said, “Didi, why should I trouble you?” and removed her panty too.

Meanwhile, I had filled a small tub with mild warm water and added some soothing salts. I told Chavi to sit on the sofa and put her feet inside the tub. It immediately had its relaxing effect. I put some fresh beans in the coffee percolator, pulled all the heavy dbangs, switched off all lights except one soft blue lamp, and poured two cups of special coffee (laced with a liberal dose of brandy). I handed one to the bride.

She said, “Hey Didi, it looks different.”

I told her, “It is special because you are special.”

While she was talking on the phone with her mother and then with Rupa and Sona, I went behind her and started giving her a gentle back rub. I massaged her lean, beautiful shoulders with smooth strokes, using my body weight and fingertips on all the right points. Soon she was totally relaxed.

Now I moved to the front and opened the top buttons of her gown. She showed some resistance, but by then she was busy talking with her bhabhi, who was teasing her about the impending suhaag raat. My now bolder hands were rubbing her front, deliberately avoiding her breasts. She soon reconciled and started enjoying it too.

I slowly moved her gown over her breasts, exposing them. She had small but perfectly developed, firm breasts with prominently protruding nipples. I sat next to her and continued the massage. I rubbed her lower back, pushing my fingers inside the gown, coming down to the base of her spine, teasing her voluptuous ass, then moving up again.

I parted her gown, giving myself a glimpse of her portals of love. My fingers stroked her thighs and occasionally brushed her genitals. With one hand I continued the massage while the other hugged her, whispering sweet nothings in her ear. She had rested her head on my breast (which had slipped out of my gown). I slowly made her recline so that her head rested in my lap. As I spread my legs, her lips came directly over my exposed muff.

I was now stroking her long tresses and telling her, “Chavi, in your in-laws’ house you must have someone who is your confidante. I have gone through this phase and I know how lonely it can feel sometimes. The house is full of relatives, but true friends are few.”

“Yes Didi, you put it perfectly,” she whispered.

Now my fingers were playing with her golden-brown jhant. “Chavi, you should clean it before… you know. It may be hard for you during… but they are beautiful and hide an even more beautiful treasure.” Saying this, I gently touched her labia. “Either you can clean it yourself or it can be done at the parlour this evening.”

“Yes Didi.” Her voice had become very faint.

I parted my legs further and gently pushed her head so that her lips touched me. My strokes became bolder. After stroking and teasing her vulva, my hands moved down and started massaging her inner thighs. Soon I could feel all the tension melting away and she was completely at ease.

I asked her, “Chavi, do you take pills?”

She admitted, “Nahin Didi.”

I squeezed her cunt gently and my other hand came from her head to fondle her breasts. I chided her lovingly, “Arre pagli, tonight itself you may become pregnant. After nine months I will get some neg as bua, but what about you? Don’t worry, I have a pill that can be started from any day. After your next period you can switch to the usual ones. This is the time for enjoying chudai.” While saying this, my finger gently parted her labia. “Children can come later. And while talking about chudai — yes, it will hurt a little, but nothing like getting fucked furiously on the first night. You are young and such a cute bhabhi, so just let me tell you that we should be prepared. Use lube before, especially on the inner side.”

We kept talking. I told her everything about me, Cheenu, and even our jokes about me getting fucked by my Jijus. She laughed and said, “But Didi, I don’t have any Jiju.”

I pinched her choonchi and replied, “Don’t bother — your nandoi will fill that gap.”

She laughed too. “Yes, I enjoy the way Ravi Jiju talks, but I think Didi, you had more claim over him.”

I pinched her chootar and said, “Saali aur salhaj ka barabar ka haq hota hai, and you will be here, so beware.”

We shifted to the bed, where she curled up in my arms and we slept.

When I woke up, our gowns had vanished and we were just hugging each other skin to skin. It was already 3:30 p.m. and we had an appointment at 4. I made tea and woke her up. She looked at herself, found herself nude, and blushed. She tried to cover up, but I pulled her gown away saying, “Ab Bhabhi, kya chhipana?” I gave her tea and told her to get ready fast.

Suddenly I remembered something and, indicating towards her kesar kyari, asked, “Hey Bano, iska kya hoga?”

She just smiled and said, “Let the parlour take care of it too.”

I also wore a tight top and hip-hugging jeans that clearly showed the crack of my ass. While changing, Chavi looked at my 36D breasts and admired them. I pulled her hand and made her squeeze them. “Hey, don’t bother. Ek baar mard ka haath padega to tumhare bhi aise hi bade ho jayenge.”

She teased back, “Sirf ek mard ke haath se?”

I pinched her chootar and said, “Don’t forget your nandoi.”

I went out looking for Mausi and found her sleeping with my dad on one side and Bade Mausa ji on the other. I teased her, “Kyon Mausi ji, ek saath do-do Jija ke saath?”

I realised I had raised a hornet’s nest. She retorted, “Arre, to tumhari kyon sulag rahi hai? And anyway, tomorrow Neelu and her husband will come, so you can also sleep with two Jijas. But let me share something — it is really enjoyable, one from front and the other from behind.”

Meanwhile Chavi had also come out and was listening to our ribald talk with a smile.

Ravi Jiju came to drive us to the parlour. He complained to Mausi ji, “Your daughter was using me as a driver and now your bahu is also using my services. Who will give my fees?”

I interrupted, “Why don’t you take it from your salhaj? I am sure she will not say no.”

But Chavi was no less. She answered back, “Rinu Didi meri taraf se bhi de dengi.”

I made Chavi sit between me and Jiju. When he started driving, I told him, “Jiju, now you can take your fees.”

Soon we reached the parlour. The treatment was long and included full body care — facial, sandal treatment for breasts, waxing, etc. I told them not to leave any hair. Chavi blushed. The ladies took Chavi away. Jiju and I also got facials done. Still, there were two hours to kill.

I suggested to Jiju that there was a famous bakery nearby. He agreed and said the pastries there were famous, but I blurted out, “I was thinking about cream rolls.”

Before leaving, I suddenly remembered something and called the parlour maid. I handed her the erotic perfume Amit had given me and told her exactly where to apply it before dressing Chavi for tonight’s big match.

Jiju drove me to the pastry shop and parked in a lonely corner. He bought four rum pastries and, of course, cream rolls. I took one between my lips and pressed it into his mouth. He just kissed me. Soon we were hugging, kissing, and biting each other. I was sitting in his lap and his hands had wandered inside my top. His lund was pressing against my ass.

I said, “Kyon Jiju, today it wants to travel on the choti line route?”

He smiled and said, “You read my mind. Yes, why not? It is great fun, especially with someone who has such a sexy ass.”

I giggled and said, “You know, Mom has taught me that there are two types of men — some are boobs men and some are ass men.”

Squeezing my breasts and pushing his lund against my gaand over the jeans, he replied, “And I am both types. Your both assets are so sexy, Rinu. The first time I saw them, I just wanted to fuck you and bugger you while holding your choonchis.”

But he could not turn the dream into reality because some bikers parked their bikes right next to our car. Jiju suggested there were some ruins nearby on the outskirts of the city. I recognised the place. We drove there. Dusk had fallen and there was only dim light. We parked the car in the farthest corner, in the shadow of an old monument.

Now there was no pretence. He was trying to undress me and I was doing the same, but in the confined space of the car we couldn’t enjoy properly. Suddenly Jiju looked at the sugarcane field — lush green, very tall, and dense. The nearest village was five or six kilometres away.

Jiju looked at me and asked, “Hey, are you thinking the same thing as me?”

I said, “Yes. I had heard about it but never tried it there.”

He pulled me out and said, “Let us fill this gap in your experience too.”

We followed a narrow pagdandi. After walking some distance, Jiju took my hand and pulled me inside the field. He had brought a car seat cover and spread it on the ground. He broke a few sugarcane stalks to make space. After removing my dress, I lay down. Jiju placed his jeans under my chootar. I raised my long, slender legs over his shoulders and spread them wide. I took out a tube of KY jelly from my jeans and handed it to him.

Smiling, he coated his supara with it and also spread some on his thumb and index finger. He parted the doors of my greedy, hungry choot and covered it with lube. Then, with my legs spread wide over his broad shoulders, he pushed his lund inside my wet and waiting choot. I was so hot that I pushed my chootar forward too, and his supara went in. I will not say there was no pain, but that was exactly what my choot had been longing for.

Jiju crushed my choonchi with his strong hand. Holding it firmly, he shoved the rest of his lund in one powerful stroke. I responded with a wild push of my chootar, but still a scream almost escaped. I bit my lip hard to stop it. Jiju was rubbing and crushing my breasts, and soon his lips joined the assault. One tit was being sucked, devoured, chewed; the other was being pulled and pinched. His other hand was flirting with my clit.

Soon I was moaning. Although Jiju was not pushing hard yet, my chootar kept rising and I whispered in his ear, “Hey Jiju, please dalo… na chodo na…”

He finally acceded to my request. He pulled his mighty lund almost completely out, captured my lips in a deep kiss, gripped my hips, and shoved it fully inside. He had taken the precaution of silencing my lips with his. Oh, it was real joy, but in spite of being fucked twice, my choot still felt pierced by a sharp weapon. There was sting, but there was also overpowering pleasure. I hugged him, scratched his back with my long nails, and we started chudai in full frenzy.

Soon Jiju changed position. He took my legs off his shoulders, pushed them towards my head almost folding me in half, and started pounding again. He was rotating his lund inside my choot without moving much, while the base rubbed my clit. His hands grabbed my chootar and soon one finger moved to the crack of my ass. It was teasing me there, just playing with my gaand. Suddenly, with full force, he shoved his thumb inside. My virgin gaand was so tight that despite all his might, only the tip entered. But it was enough to hurt. I moved my head sideways, meaning “no, not there.” But Jiju was oblivious. He pulled half his lund out and started fucking me in a slow, powerful rhythm. His one finger was inside my gaand while his other hand pinched my clit, and I became delirious, begging him to do kas kar chudai.

His strokes became faster and more powerful. I almost forgot about the finger in my gaand. In this frenzy the cover under me had been thrown away and now I was lying directly on the earth. I could feel small pieces of dust and some hard bits piercing and rubbing my soft skin and chootar. But they only added to the joy. The force with which Jiju was fucking me was making my body grind against the sugarcane field’s soil.

Soon Jiju withdrew his finger. Only then did I realise its presence. He bit my tit and I bit my lip to stop a scream. Meanwhile he pressed my clit hard and I came again. I too pushed a finger inside the crack of his ass and he exploded. At that moment we heard rustling of leaves. Jiju hurriedly helped me dress and we came out.

Our eyes had adjusted to the darkness. Jiju told me to bend down and peep. What I saw was beautiful — a young village teen in ghaghra and choli was being fucked by one boy while she was sucking the lund of another. They were totally oblivious to us.

We returned to the car and drove towards the parlour. Jiju squeezed my hand and said, “Hey, you saw that girl?”

I smiled and replied, “Yes, I feel envious. Lucky girl — ek saath do-do lund ka maja. How can she take two together?”

Jiju laughed and said, “Don’t be jealous. I forgot to tell you — Neelu didi’s call came today. She will be joining with her husband, and maybe tomorrow it may be you with two lunds.”

I had taken out his raging lund from his pants and it was still erect. Jiju pinched my chootar. I squeezed his lund and said, “Jiju, it looks like it will not spare your poor saali’s gaand. And although you could not break the seal of my choot, my gaand is still kori.”

Hearing that, his lund jumped in my hand. I squeezed it hard and told him, “Jiju, can you make a promise?”

He said, “Sure, anything for my sexy saali,” and kissed me.

I said, “No, first say ‘yes, I promise.’”

He squeezed my choonchi and said, “Yes, I promise.”

Gripping his lund very hard, I said, “Jiju, I like it, but sometimes it hurts me too. I want that whatever hole you are taking — even if it is my tight virgin gaand where I know it will hurt like hell, even if I scream and beg for mercy, even if you tear and split me, even if I faint — I want all of it.” I touched its base and added, “Right up to this place. It may hurt at that time, but baad mein jo maja milta hai, I cannot tell you.”

As we had to leave in a rush, I felt some semen was still left in Jiju’s lund. I looked at the pastry left in the car and an idea flashed in my mind. I took the pastry in front of his lund and started pumping it hard.

He was flabbergasted. “Hey Rinu, what are you doing?”

I told him it was a known belief that if a woman eats something that has already been “tasted” by someone after her marriage and before her own virginity is taken, she becomes enamoured of that lund and cannot refuse it.

“Now I was pumping vigorously.”

“Oh, so it is for…?” he quizzed.

“Yes, your salhaj, Chavi. Saali and salhaj have equal rights over Jiju.”

“Yes,” he said, and thinking about his salhaj he came in big spurts. I had thought only a few drops might be left, but thick globs of white cum covered the pastry.

Jiju said, “Yes, I must take her too.”

Laughingly I put his lund back in his pants and said, “If you leave her, then you are not a perfect nandoi.”

We had reached the parlour. I enquired about Chavi and they said it would take another 10–15 minutes as she was getting dressed for her suhaag raat. Meanwhile I could get henna done on my hands. I agreed. And what about the perfume? The parlour maid laughed and said it had been applied ten minutes ago.

Soon Chavi came out. She was looking stunning. She was wearing a red passion-coloured lehnga tied well below her navel. Her beautiful feet were coloured with mahavar that was still wet, and she wore silver anklets with a hundred tiny bells. Her choli covered her small but perfect breasts with rich embroidery. There was a chunri over them, but her oomph was clearly visible. Her face was adorned with full bridal makeup. I could see a bulge in Jiju’s pants.

I thanked the parlour maids and we left. But suddenly I remembered something and asked, “Hey, what happened to the kesar kyari?”

She laughed and said, “It is clean now.” Chavi blushed.

[Saj890]

Very good

[defunct]

Very good

its copied . real author komalrani

[Maleficio]

When we returned, my henna was still wet, so I sat alone in the back seat and made Chavi sit in the front with Jiju. She too was sitting with her hands extended so her fingernails could dry. She teased me and said, “Didi, where did you go with Nandoi ji?”

I told her Jiju had offered me some good pastries. But Chavi was in a playful mood. She commented, “I thought it would have been something else.” Then she complained to Ravi, “Jiju, you make discrimination between saali and salhaj. You give her so many things but forget your salhaj.”

I told Jiju to offer a pastry to his salhaj. Since Chavi could not use her fingers, she opened her mouth wide. I joked, “Jiju, see how wide salhaj has opened her mouth. Now it is time for you to push it. Dal do na Jiju, ek baar mein salhaj ki…”

Ravi took the pastry and put it in her greedy mouth. Of course it was a mouthful, and only on the second attempt could she gobble the whole rum pastry. When I looked at her, I saw a big glob of cum on her pink lips.

I told her, “Hey Bhabhi, some icing is still on your lips. Why don’t you lick it with your tongue?”

She brought out her silken pink tongue and very erotically licked it. After that she looked in the rear-view mirror and said, “Oh Didi, some pastry is on my cheek. How will I clean it?”

I laughed and said, “What for is your nandoi?” He complained, “But I am driving — my hands are not free.”

I goaded him, “So use your lips and tongue.”

Chavi too offered her gore gore gaal. Jiju not only cleaned it but kept on kissing. I warned him, “Hey, mere bhaiya ke maal pe haath saaf kar rahe ho!”

But Chavi supported Ravi and came to his defence: “Jiski behan ko nahin choda, uski biwi ko bakhsane ka matlab nahin hai.”

We kept teasing each other and soon reached home.

We were slightly late for the “kangan chudana” ceremony (the ritual of untying the knots tied on the hands of the bride and groom). The groom’s bhabhi unties them, and only after that are they granted licence to indulge in fucking. Since everyone knows the meaning, there is a lot of bawdy singing and joking.

Rashmi Bhabhi was ready. She said, “Rinu, khud to chudwane mein lagi rahti ho, yahan bechari Chavi ki koi chinta nahin.”

I giggled and replied, “No Bhabhi, I had taken my young bhabhi to get her ready for exactly that. I know how eagerly she is waiting for it.” I crooned to Chavi, “Sajan se tumhara milan hoga, dulhan thodi dheer dharo.”

Madhu Bhabhi joined in, singing, “Arre kasi choot mein lund hoga, Chavi thodi dheer dharo.”

The ritual was performed. The groom was also brought in. There was a playful game of jua where a ring is thrown in water and both bride and groom try to find it. Of course my bhabhis supported Chavi, so she won all three times. They told the groom he would now have to become a pakka joru ka gulam.

Madhu Bhabhi asked Adi, “Hey, raat ke match ka kahan intezaam kiya hai?”

Adi giggled and said, “There was no room because of so many guests, so it has been arranged in the kitchen. We have put a cot there. I hope Chavi Bhabhi will enjoy it.”

I could see a trace of gloom on Chavi’s face. I told them, “Okay, Jiju and I are taking them to dinner at the Taj. Meanwhile, get everything ready. I think the kitchen is good — there are all kinds of lubricants, so Chavi Bhabhi can choose whether she wants mustard oil, ghee, or even butter. And if she gets tired, she can take some replenishment too.”

Rashmi Bhabhi added mischievously, “And some of the windows cannot be closed, so one can peep and give encouragement.”

(In fact, Jiju and I had booked a bridal suite at the Taj for them, but it was meant to be a surprise.)

Mausi ji rebuked us for teasing Chavi and we left for dinner. I told Mom that my friend Nutan had met me and was complaining, so after dinner I would go to her house and stay there. She said okay but asked me to return early in the morning.

We were allotted a corner table. I left the lovebirds alone and took Jiju away. We went straight to the bridal suite.

It was beautifully decorated with jasmine and roses. The roof was made of solid mirrors and there were huge dressing tables. On the table were two silver glasses filled with milk and herbs, the famous palang-tod paan on a silver tray, and some Madan Modaks in another tray.

Jiju looked around and said, “Rinu, your arrangements are perfect.”

I hugged him, kissed his lips, and asked, “But Jiju, please promise me one thing.”

He looked quizzical, but I insisted, “No, first say ‘Yes, Rinu, I will do it.’ Only then will I tell you.”

I hugged him tightly and kissed him passionately. I sat down on the bridal bed and opened his zip. His sleepy monster came out. Without any preliminaries I gulped it between my lips.

Jiju said, “Okay, I promise — whatever you say I will do. And I mean WHATEVER.”

I was sucking his lund greedily. I took it out for a moment and said, “Jiju, please ring your house and tell them you will not be able to come home tonight.”

He looked surprised. “But why…? Anyway, you are going to your friend’s place.”

I pointed to the phone kept next to the bed and said, “Jiju, you promised, so just do it.” I continued sucking him. He made the call and gave some excuse.

Now his lund was a raging monster. I took him to the bathroom where a frilled lacy bra and a sheer, nothing-like lacy pink panty for his salhaj were hanging. I took the panty, wrapped it around his lund, and pumped it. I opened his supara and rubbed it on the part of the panty where Chavi’s choot would rest. I smiled and said, “Jiju, it is a complete totka. After her maidenhead is broken and she wears this panty, her choot will go crazy for your lund. She will develop such strong affection for her nandoi that she will chase you.”

He laughed and said, “Ameen.”

We went out to the waiting couple. They were sitting close to each other. The waiter came with a bottle of wine. Chavi showed some reluctance, but Jiju and I persuaded her and it opened her up further. We all enjoyed dinner with laughter, teasing, and jokes.

I told them to wait there while we ladies went to the powder room. I took Chavi straight to the bridal suite. When she saw it and understood, joy lit up her face.

She said, “But Didi… everybody was saying — even you were saying — that it would be in the kitchen.”

I laughed and replied, “No, how could I choose such a place for my bhabhi?” Then I gave her some final lessons. “It is a night for enjoyment, so go ahead and do it fully. You must raise your legs as high as possible and spread them wide.”

I suddenly remembered and told her, “Oops, I forgot to give you the pill.” I took out the packet from my purse, gave her one with water, and said, “I told you I am your friend. But you must also take care of my brother.”

There was a knock. I opened the door. Jiju had guided his saala, who was also pleased to see the beautiful bridal suite. I told Jiju, “Hey, now we should not delay them any longer, otherwise my bhabhi will curse me.”

Jiju said, “It is 9 p.m. We will come back at 9 a.m. So best of luck — and I mean it.” I laughed and said, “Jiju, I know what you mean, but leave them now.” We closed the door.

I took him to the door of another bridal suite — the Queen Suite — and gave him a letter I had written on a hotel napkin with lipstick. It read:

“Jiju, I want your lund and I want it badly. You can push it, shove it wherever you like. Even if I cry, even if I weep, even if you tear and split me with your massive lund, please do jabardast chudai tonight.  
Your sexy saali, Rinu.”

While he was engrossed in reading it, I opened the door and ushered him inside. I bolted the room from inside and hugged him tightly. He was completely nonplussed.

He stammered, “You said… some saheli…”

I giggled and kissed him hard. “Jiju ji, everything is fair in love and war. So for the next twelve hours, do anything and everything with your saali.”

I ordered him to raise his hands. He did. I removed his coat and shirt and hung them. Now it dawned on him. He looked at the bridal bed, the palang-tod paan on the silver tray, the two glasses of milk, and the other condiments.

His response was immediate — he lifted me in his arms and carried me to the bed. I stayed sitting in his lap. I took the special paan (full of aphrodisiacs, known to cause erection for hours and make even a virgin bride go wild) between my lips, rubbed it on his, and slowly pushed it into his mouth. He grabbed the paan, bit my juicy lips, and we kept sucking and chewing it together, exchanging the juices of our mouths. He pushed some of the chewed paan into my mouth, which I lovingly devoured.

His hands were measuring my breasts, which had been hard for some time (I had applied the erotic perfume gifted by Amit on my tits and clit, and they were really engorged). He tore open my choli, flung away my sari, and soon I was sitting in his lap in just my bra and saya. He held my head and kissed me softly on the lips, his fingers playing with my long dark tresses. I responded warmly.

Soon his lips wandered down to my domes of joy. This time, without any delay, they gulped my tit and started sucking greedily. His hands captured the other one. There was a race between his sucking lips and his pulling, pinching fingers — which could give more joy to my aroused tits. He started slowly, kissing and flicking his tongue on my erect nipples. His tongue would travel from the base of my breasts, just flick the tip, and then suddenly gulp it, sucking hard. It grew into deep sucking, biting, chewing, and devouring. His fingers, which had been playing softly, now started pulling and scratching. I was moaning with joy and my other body parts were also demanding attention.

His lips finally left my breasts and continued their downward journey. However, his other hand captured both breasts and now both of them were being crushed and squeezed. His lips, while kissing my flat, fair tummy, found rest in my deep navel. He cleverly, teasingly brushed the portals of my love hole but went further down, soaking my inner thighs with long, deep, lingering kisses. I was floating on clouds.

But soon his fingers joined in, exploring my tunnel of longing. He gripped my mound softly and squeezed it. Now he was lying beside me, his teeth nibbling my earlobes. His fingers stroked the flames of my passion to full intensity. He was caressing and squeezing the petals of my love flower. His fingers invaded my tunnel — first one, then a second. His thumb moved in circles around my clit while his fingers played music on the inner walls of my love hole. At the same time, his other hand was busy with one breast (and of course his lips were devouring the other peak). I was moaning, crying, raising my chootar wildly.

Suddenly his two fingers, doing tap-dance, found my “that” spot and I almost jerked, pushing out my vibrating pussy. I felt an urge like I wanted to urinate, but soon my pelvic area started pulsating. The pads of his fingers started pushing and pressing. I was in frenzy, but slowly he reduced the pressure and pulled out his fingers before I could cross the edge and the volcano could erupt.

Now his lips started playing the music. He placed them directly on my choot, kissing slowly at first, then with full force. He opened his tongue to separate my wet pussy lips. When they parted, he used his thick, twirling tongue to run it up and down between my sensitive, vibrating flesh. My entire body was tingling, my tits erect and breasts rock hard. My eyes were half-closed and I had surrendered all control. His licks moved from one side to the other — sometimes hard and pointed, sometimes broad and soft. He was using his tongue like a painter’s brush to colour new shades of joy.

His tongue, after teasing my “that” spot, came out, but now it was encircling my clit. It was flicking and flirting with my fully engorged, swollen clit. His lips caged the clit while his tongue teased it. I was taking long breaths and my chootar was moving on auto-pilot. He again pierced my cunt with his tongue like a pilum. Now his lips were sucking me softly, then with urgency. They became hungrier and started sucking like a vacuum pump. I was almost there when he stopped.

He raised my chootar. Now his licks went backwards, starting from the end of my choot to the hole of my gaand, and he kissed me there, touching my asshole with the tip of his tongue. My passion ebbed a bit, but soon my clit was again caged by his lips and the sucking started in full gusto. I was crying, moaning, begging. His hands were grasping my chootar very hard, scratching my gaand, and I was almost going mad. But suddenly he left and came between my legs.

Jiju lifted my long, slender legs and put them over his shoulders. His long, erect, raging lund was looking greedily at my choot and my choot almost winked at it. Smiling, I pulled out a bottle of Vaseline from under the pillow and with my fingers coated his cock. He too took some and applied it inside my already wet choot. He made me raise my chootar and placed a few more pillows under it. Now he used his cock to part my young petals and made a slow, teasing entry. It was delirious. His fingers and tongue had already made me wild, and now his supara rubbing on the inner walls of my tunnel of longing made me crave for more and more. To welcome his entry, I thrust my chootar upward. Jiju grabbed my hard choonchi and started crushing it. Holding it firmly, he shoved further and now half of his lund was ensconced in my bur.

Holding my choonchi and smiling at me, he teasingly pulled it out and then, with full force, thrust it with all his power. Vaseline, our foreplay, and arousal notwithstanding, it almost tore my tight cunt. His cock was so massive and huge. I tried to stifle my cry but failed. When I looked up, I almost blushed. In the ceiling mirror of the bridal suite I could see his lund entering my choot, and I was amazed that some of it was still outside. But with the next push it went up to his balls.

My mahavar-coloured feet were rubbing against his cheeks and my silver anklets played beautiful music in tune with every powerful thrust. In the ceiling mirror I could see his hands playing with my domes of joy — climbing to the peaks, adoring them, punishing them, caressing and crushing them. Jiju increased the tempo and now pain had bid adieu and joy had taken over completely. I was moving my chootar to meet every powerful thrust. When his cock was fully inside, its base rubbed my clit. Jiju would grind it against my clit. Now his one hand too had joined in, flirting with my now swollen clit. His lips were sucking, eating my eraser-like big erect tits, while his fingers caressed my labia and teased my clit. His hands and lips moved almost in sync with his lund.

After some time he shifted my legs to my head, almost doubling me up, which further exposed my choot to him. He added a few more pillows below my chootar and, now holding my slender waist, started chudai at full speed. I too was squeezing his lund inside my choot. When I was almost on the verge, my eyes closed and I was moaning, “Haan Jiju… aise… aise hi… aur kas kar… please jor se chodo… aur jor se… chodo… phaad do meri choot… apni Rinu ki saali ki bur…”

He pulled out his lund and I started begging, “Nahin Jiju, please make me cum.” But he stopped. However, he held his cock in his hand and started rotating it inside my choot, and now I was really wild. His cock was rubbing my inner walls and stretching them beyond imagination. To tease me further he inserted his index finger in my mouth. When I had sucked it as if it were his lund, he brought it out and, without preliminaries, shoved it in my asshole. His lund too had started frantic chudai and I could see everything in the mirrors.

Suddenly we heard a scream from the tape recorder behind us. I had reduced the volume, but the scream was too loud and I knew what had happened. I told Jiju, “Aapki salhaj ki phat gayi.”

His response was typical — he increased the tempo of chudai. Now he was lying on me with his broad chest rubbing against my breasts. I had crossed my legs over his hips, guiding his thrusts. My long nails were scratching his back. Chudai had slowed down but we were enjoying this complete intimacy. It went on and on. Jiju left and sat between my thighs without pulling out his cock. My legs were still behind his back, encircling him. Now his hands again attacked my clit and soon I was on the verge of orgasm. This time he continued and it came in waves. However, his powerful chudai continued unabated and soon he came too. His cum flooded my choot and some of it spilled over my thighs.

[Saj890]

Very good

[Maleficio]

For some time we lay just like that. He slowly pulled out his lund, which was still semi-erect, and lay down beside me. We increased the volume of the sound coming from the next room. Chavi was complaining that it was hurting, and soon there were sounds of kissing and licking.

We too started kissing while watching ourselves in the mirror. Jiju’s lund began stirring again. I took it in my henna-coloured hands and started caressing it lovingly. Jiju wanted to get up, but I told him to just lie down — it was time for his saali to serve her Jiju.

I moved and sat astride him. He tried to hold my choonchis, but I gently put his hands back on the bed. I kissed his lips fleetingly, then suddenly gulped his cheek and bit him hard. My hands brushed against his chest, titillating his nipples. My lips travelled downward and I gently nibbled his tits. But it was only for a moment. My long tresses started caressing his chest, and when I sat between his thighs, it was my long dark hair that first kissed Jiju’s majestic lund.

I had been dreaming of this for a long time, and now it was time to turn fantasy into reality. After teasing his furious and angry lund for some time, I pulled my hair back over my shoulder and looked at Jiju, who was breathing heavily. I smiled at him, softly grabbed his lund, and brought it to my cheeks, caressing them with it. This made me very hot too; my nipples were steel-hard.

I used my breasts to grab his lund and started rubbing it slowly. My fingers fondled his balls while my nails traced from the base of his supara all the way to his balls. Once my adventurous fingers went further and teasingly touched his asshole too. Jiju tried to sit up, but I kept him lying down.

Now I rose slightly and started rubbing my cunt with the tip of his cock. It was too much for him. I would touch it, rub it, and then lift away. He began moaning, “Arre Rinu, please fuck… fuck… push it in.”

I parted my labia with my fingers and shoved down hard. In one gulp, my greedy choot took the supara of his lund. I tried hard, but it was difficult to take more. I looked at him pleadingly. He immediately caught my slender waist and pulled me down with full force. I too pushed downward, and slowly almost his entire lund slid inside.

He bent his knees so my back was supported. Slowly I started fucking him. I would go down, teasingly offer my choonchis to him, and when he tried to suck them, I would move away. I taunted him, “Hey, are you thinking about Gita’s choonchis?”

He laughed and said, “No, they are much smaller.”

I laughed too and said, “Okay, then your Mom’s — they are bigger, like mine.” He grabbed my tits hard, bit them, and abused me lovingly, “Chinar saali!”

I rubbed my breasts against his cheeks and squeezed his lund inside my choot. Soon we could hear the music of silver anklets from the next room, and we both knew that Chavi’s second round of chudai had started. It brought so much josh to Jiju that he held my waist firmly and started moving me up and down. I too joined in the furious pace.

I knew that once we came this time, it would take a while before the next round. Now Jiju was controlling the pace. He sat up and we continued chudai in a sitting position. He sat on the edge of the bed with his legs hanging down, and I was sitting in his lap with his lund deep inside my choot. He was holding, crushing, and squeezing my mast joban while I moved my choot over his lund.

I saw the silver glass full of milk on the table and picked it up. While squeezing his lund inside my choot, I offered it to him. He took a sip and made me drink too. He pinched my joban and said, “I would like to drink from here.” I offered my tits to him. “But for that you will have to make me gabhin (pregnant),” I said.

He quizzed, “Do you mean it?”

Shoving my choonchi into his mouth, I replied, “Yes. Next time when we meet, I will make sure I am without pills and stay for some time. Although I know one chudai by you and I will become gabhin. And after nine months, from one choonchi I will offer milk to your son, and from the other choonchi you can drink.”

This aroused him so much that he made me lie down on the edge of the bed. After finishing the milk, he raised my legs, spread them wide, and shoved his mighty lund in one powerful thrust. My choot started vibrating. He poured some milk from my glass over my boobs and started licking it. I crossed my legs over his chootar and started pressing him closer. He would pull his lund almost fully out and then shove it back in with full force. After some thrusts he would start fucking furiously. I was moaning, my eyes closed, responding by pushing my chootar, squeezing my choot, and pressing my legs against his ass. He was stroking my clit and pinched it, which triggered an exploding orgasm. He too joined me in climax.

This time when he came, he pulled out his lund and splashed my choonchis with his cum.

The herb-filled milk ensured we were not tired even after two rounds of frantic chudai. We lay next to each other, talking softly. There was a TV in the room and a VCD player too.

Jiju said, “I wish I had brought some hot movies.”

I bowed before him playfully and said, “Jo hukum, mere aaka.” I gave him the remote. As he switched it on, there was already an XXX CD in the player and it started playing.

It showed a boy and a girl. Soon things became hot. She was sucking his huge cock (just like Jiju’s), and then she was bent over and fucking started. But within a few minutes he withdrew and shoved it into her gaand. It looked almost impossible. She cried and cried, but without pausing he pushed deeper. Soon she was enjoying it; her face was smiling and she was cooing, “Hey, fuck my ass… fuck my ass.”

As if that was not enough, another man joined and she started sucking him. I was sitting in Jiju’s lap, his now hard lund rubbing against my wet choot. His hands were softly playing with my tits. Now on TV both men were fucking her simultaneously — one cock in her ass and the other in her choot.

I grabbed Jiju’s cock and said, “Hey, how can she take it in her gaand and choot together?”

Jiju pinched my tits and replied, “Rinu, maybe you will be that girl in the picture within the next 24 hours, and I and Neelu’s husband can be the boys.”

Jiju suggested we shift to the big sofa so we could watch the TV more closely. He was sporting a huge erection. He opened the fridge, brought a bottle of drinks and an ice tray. I made a glass and brought it to him. He made me drink too.

There were so many things happening on TV. Both men, when they came, came on the girl’s face. Then one woman did it with three men, and the last scene was stunning — a teen in a college dress (she looked almost like Adi). Her teacher made her sit in his lap, lifted her skirt, and spanked her with a paddle until her ass was sore with red welts. Now her tight gaand was spread and, without using any lube, a man shoved his huge lund inside her ass.

Looking at it, I could see Jiju’s lund become wild. He made me lie down on the sofa. He started kissing and sucking my choonchis while his hands parted my choot. His two fingers went inside and started teasing me, searching for my “that” spot. He picked up a few ice cubes and started sucking them. Of course his eyes were fixed on the TV where that teen was being buggered. With the cubes he came down to my tits and gulped one. The ice cubes rubbed my tits while he scratched my choonchis hard. His mouth, still cold from the cubes, moved down to my choot. He sucked me hard, rubbing the ice on my clit. I felt as if I was being electrocuted.

He took out the cubes, put them in my mouth, and rubbed his cold tongue against mine. I had become so hot that I was begging him to fuck me anywhere, in any position.

He made me go on all fours on the floor and coated his lund with Vaseline. I was afraid he was going to pound my gaand. But holding my choonchis, in one thrust he pushed almost his entire lund into my choot. I moaned and squeezed his lund inside my choot with great joy. I thought my gaand had been saved.

But it was not to be. Soon his two fingers, covered with Vaseline, made an entry into my rear hole, and even that was painful. He kept moving them sideways and in and out. When his lund went inside my choot, his fingers would come out, and when his lund came out, his fingers would go in. Soon my gaand got used to his fingers.

He had increased the tempo of his chudai and my choot was enjoying it. He was grabbing and squeezing my choonchis and doing jabardast chudai while I goaded him, “Haan haan Jiju, aise hi… khub kas kar chodo… ragad kar phaad dalo meri bur.”

He pulled out his lund and fingers. Soon his supara was trying to make an entry into my gaand. But the resistance of my sphincter was too much. He parted my asshole and tried to push; a little entry took place, but beyond that it was hard. He used his fingers to spread my gaand and got his supara trapped. It caused a burning sensation. But that was nothing. He left my choonchis, held my hips with full force, and pushed. My sphincter gave way. His supara entered inside my gaand and I felt as if a hot burning iron rod had been shoved inside me — as if a thousand ants were biting me. I screamed, but no sound came out.

Jiju, being my Jiju, took a laddu — a Madan Modak — kept on the table and put it inside my mouth. (I recalled when my mom had done something similar — when I went to the goldsmith to get my ears pierced and screamed, she put a laddu in my mouth and told the smith to be brutal and ensure proper piercing.)

My sound was stifled, but not the pain. My body was tense, but Jiju kept pushing relentlessly and almost half of his lund was inside. He could feel the tension in me and asked whether he should continue or stop for some time. I nodded my head sideways. He asked again and I nodded yes. I was moving my hips violently. He stopped. He shifted his attention to my choot and choonchis. Soon his fingers were fucking my choot mercilessly while he pinched and pulled my clit and tits. My body responded. I had finished the Modak in my mouth and wiggled my gaand. He asked, “Rinu, main tumhari gaand maarna chahta hoon, bolo.”

I smiled weakly and said, “Jiju, I had already told you.” He recalled our earlier conversation. Now nothing could stop him. He rammed his lund and soon, although I felt as if I was being torn and split, my gaand was aching and I was screaming slowly, biting my lips. Jiju was caressing my back and soon I relaxed. I started enjoying the feeling of my gaand being stretched. Jiju stopped with his entire lund deep inside my gaand, stretching it. He let me get used to the feeling and I was surprised — I was enjoying it. He started butt-fucking me very slowly. Soon I had blended my body movements with his. I was moving my gaand, wiggling my chootar, and even teasing Jiju. Soon he increased his speed; he would bring it almost fully out and then ram it back in. The pain had not fully vanished, but when I looked into the dressing table mirror I could not believe my eyes. His fully engorged, thick lund was coming out of my tight, ex-virgin gaand, and when it was almost out, Jiju would suddenly shove it fully back in. I looked at Jiju’s face — it was sheer joy, a brute pleasure in fucking the kori gaand of his saali. That doubled my own joy. I pushed my ass towards him, asking him to fuck my ass, fuck it hard and deep.

Jiju held my chootar and pushed deep. My face was now on the sofa. Soon he was squeezing my choonchis and holding them while doing a hard fucking of my ass. It was being pulverised and I was enjoying every moment. It was the third time, so I knew Jiju would take a long time to come. After some time we shifted to the bed. Jiju made me sit on his lap, but this time his lund went inside my gaand. Now I was pushing myself, shoving my gaand onto his lund. We were thoroughly enjoying it. I learned the joy of anal sex.

He made me lie on the bed, raised my legs, put pillows under my chootar so high that his lund could easily attack my gaand, and started a fresh round. It was a slow start that quickly picked up speed. He kept fucking my gaand for almost 15-20 minutes. His fingers were fucking my choot. I must have come two or three times before he finally came and flooded my gaand. He pulled out and pumped what was left onto my cheeks.

He went and cleaned himself. I increased the volume and heard Chavi complaining that her cunt was aching and he had already done it twice. When Jiju came back, he too joined in listening. I put a blanket over us and we hugged each other. It appeared that Chavi had succumbed to the demands and her third round of chudai had started. Jiju hugged me hard and I too gripped his lund. It was hard as usual. I extended my legs over his waist and now his lund was hitting at the doors of my choot. This time we showed no urgency. He was softly cupping my boobs and I was kissing him. We were just enjoying, listening to the sounds of anklets, moaning, and kissing. Jiju tried to push his lund in that position and I helped him by guiding it. Soon we were cuddling and hugging, and I was enjoying the feel of his thick lund inside me. We were cradling each other. We lost all sense of time. There was no urgency and no pressure of performance. We just blended as if two ragas had merged in a jugalbandi. We could hear Chavi’s chudai getting finished, but we continued. Our hips moved in unison and when we came, we still kept hugging with his lund deeply embedded inside my choot. My arms were wrapped around him and my legs crossed over him. We dozed off. The sleep was beautiful, although short.

When I woke up, Jiju’s lund was still inside my choot and he hugged me again. I kissed him and, as if in reaction, his lund stirred and started moving in and out. I had heard about somnambulists, but fucking in sleep was new. I responded warmly, moving my hips and squeezing his lund inside my choot. His hands, as if in sleep, were cupping and caressing my boobs. I too hugged him hard, but soon he was fully awake and then I realised my mistake of waking up a sleeping lion. He came over me and started doing chudai in full fury. After some rest he had regained his energy and I was enjoying the frenzy and force of his fucking. He must have taken almost 30-40 minutes before he came.

Dawn had come and rays of sun were peeping from behind the curtains. I put the tea kettle on and went to the bathroom. I was brushing my teeth when Jiju came in with urgency. His boner was rock hard, as if he had seen Gita, his sister, nude in a dream. He begged me, “Rinu, please get out of the bathroom.”

I asked, “Hey, I’m brushing my teeth. I will take just a few minutes. What is the problem?”

He was pleading, “Please, I have to pee.”

Now it was time for me to giggle. I said, “Go ahead, Jiju, do it. I will not stop you.”

He said no, he would not be able to do it — he felt shy. I laughed, “Arre Jiju, saari raat ragad kar choda aur ab sharma rahe ho? Okay, you do it and I promise I will not look at you.”

He went to the toilet and I could hear the sound. I was keeping my promise and did not look towards him. But suddenly I realised I could see him in the mirror. I decided it was not breaking the promise — I was looking at my own face, and if he appeared in the mirror, it was not my fault. His massive cock was the first thing to catch my attention. A straight stream was coming out. When I looked at his face, his eyes were closed.

I could not control myself. I went on tiptoes and hugged him from behind. My choonchis were rubbing against his back, my hard nipples piercing him. I pinched his nipples and started rubbing my choot on his ass as if I was fucking Jiju’s gaand. I also held his lund. He opened his eyes but I squeezed his lund and said sternly, “Ravi, there is nothing to be ashamed of. Forget your young days when Mom used to hold your teeny-weeny chunni and make you do su-su. But for that it would not have developed into such a handsome lund.”

The flow had just ebbed and I drew him towards the bathtub. He was resisting, “Hey, I have not yet finished…” but I cut him short, “Listen to Mom.” He was confused. I took his supara in my mouth. His resistance was weak, but he was still protesting, “No, let me clean it first.” I used a sterner tone and said, “Ravi, let Mom clean it.”

I opened his supara. It was pink and hot. I scratched it with my nails and he ouched. My nails went to the base of his lund and started rubbing upward to his pee hole to ensure that if anything was trapped, it would come out. Now he had closed his eyes again, surrendering himself to me. I licked his supara and pressed it with my fingers around his pee hole and it opened its eye. I probed it with the tip of my tongue. He was quivering, but my tongue was demanding. Soon it gulped his supara and I started sucking him.

I had taken only his supara and my tongue was teasing and twirling. My henna-painted hands were rubbing and squeezing his shaft and went down to his balls to fondle them. I took out his supara and then my lips started licking his shaft. I would kiss right up to the base, even take one ball and start sucking it, and then return to his cock. This time half of his lund was between my lips. My tongue was rubbing the underside, my mouth was full, and my cheeks were bulging. I was sucking like a vacuum cleaner. Jiju was in the mood now. He was holding my head and pushing, shoving his lund very hard. I squeezed his shaft and some pre-cum came out. It was tasty. Now Jiju was playing with my boobs and making me take almost his full lund. His lund was overflowing and rubbing against my cheek walls and tongue. When I realised I could not take any further, Jiju would tease and goad me, push me, and I would take some more. My jaws were aching. I would slide my lips back up to the tip of his cock and flick my tongue against it. I was twisting my head from side to side, up and down, and around and around, making sure my moist lips stayed in contact with Jiju’s ridge as they slid around. I kept sucking on it, sometimes gently, sometimes hard, working on the corona. I would know when he was becoming too hot — I would pull out, but my hands would keep the pressure and I would start sucking only the supara. Sometimes I would just take it in my mouth and push my face over it. Soon I gripped the base of his cock and started sucking hard and frantically. Jiju too was pushing it in frenzy. My fingers, which were fondling his balls, moved to his gaand and located his rear hole. I brought my fingers back to my lips, salivated them, showed them to Jiju, and inserted them in one push into his gaand. Now my two fingers were moving inside his gaand and my mouth was sucking his lund very hard. My cheeks were bulging and I could feel his massive lund touching the base of my throat. He was on the verge and suddenly I pushed my fingers deeper into his asshole, pressurising his “that” point, and he exploded in my mouth. He started cumming. He wanted to pull out but I kept pressing and squeezing, and he flooded my mouth. Some of it spilled over my breasts, but I collected it and licked it too.

Jiju asked, “Hey Rinu, did you gulp the entire cum?”

I said, laughing, “No,” and showed him some still on my lips.

We went back to the room and I poured tea. He asked, “Rinu, will you not brush again?”

I told him, “Jiju, I want this taste to linger and do not want to spoil it.”

We got ready fast as it was already 9 a.m. and we had to wake the lovebirds.

[Maleficio]

When I knocked, Chavi was wearing a gown over her nightdress and her husband was ready. I told Jiju to go along with him for breakfast and whispered something in his ear. He brought out a packet. I told him to give it to Chavi.

She looked surprised. “What is it?”

I told them it was their honeymoon packet — a 10-day trip to Manali and a 10-day trip to Goa. Both of them lit up with joy.

Jiju said, “Rinu and I decided to plan this room and the trip—” but I cut him short and shooed him away.

I pulled Chavi’s gown open and asked her, “How many times?”

She confessed shyly, “Thrice.”

I lifted her nightie to look at her choot, teasing, “Hey Bhabhi, let me see it after the use.”

She tried to hide, but I forced her hands away and had a good look. I even kissed it, blessing her, “Let it never be hungry for lund.”

Chavi said, “Didi, I would like to thank Jiju. He did so much.”

I laughed and replied, “You know what kind of ‘thank you’ he will like.”

She joined in the laughter and said, “Yes, I know very well.”

Suddenly there was a knock — it was Ravi. I told him, “Hey, Chavi was looking to give something to you.”

He said, “So why delay it?” Chavi just hugged him and kissed him. But that was not enough for him. He asked, “Hey, I would like to look at what you were looking at.”

Before Chavi could hide herself, I again lifted her nightie and Jiju had a darshan of his salhaj’s freshly fucked choot.

Chavi got ready. We went down for breakfast. She was complaining that her nandoi had seen hers but had not shown his. I told her she would get enough chances. But Jiju took her hand and placed it on his ever-present bulge. I told her, “When you come back from your honeymoon, you will see it in action. Till then, look only at my brother.”

We finished breakfast and returned home. Jiju had to go to the office for some time, so he left us outside. All the girls, including the ladies, crowded around Chavi and took her to her room, teasing her to tell every detail about last night’s happenings.

I was going back to my room. After the first time of ass-fucking, I was walking with a slight tilt. Basanti caught me and asked, “Bhabhi, any problem?”

I lied and said, “Yes, some sprain.”

She said, “Okay, you go to your room. I’m coming with some oil and will massage you. It will cure all the aches.”

I went to my room and soon Basanti joined me. She bolted the door from inside. I asked her why the precaution. She replied, “Didi, you don’t know — nowadays everybody is looking for Basanti, and I will not get to spend some time with my nanad. From the day you came, life has returned here. The way you did my munh-dikhayi, sang songs, and even in ratjaga treated me like your pakki bahu — I have become very close to you.”

I hugged her and said, “Yes, you are my bahu. That is why I gave munh-dikhayi to your choot first.” I laughed.

She joined in my laughter and said, “Didi, you know even yesterday it was like ratjaga, but first remove your sari — otherwise the oil will spoil it.”

I removed my sari and even my blouse and lay down in my bra and saya. Basanti too removed her sari. She lifted my petticoat up to my thighs and started massaging. There was magic in her hands — all my aches and pain melted away. Soon her hands went right up to my choot, teasing me, but they were still covered by my panty.

However, she insisted that I must remove it too for a better massage, which I did. She opened the string of my petticoat, saying I must relax completely. Now that my pain had subsided, I asked her, “You were telling something about yesterday.”

She said, “Yes, but you must lie down on your belly so I can massage your hips too.”

I lay on my tummy and she lifted my saya almost to the point of exposing my chootar. Her hands were squeezing them and I felt as if all the pain after my first butt-fucking was dripping away.

I chided her, “Basanti, you are not telling what happened yesterday.”

She said, “You know Adi, Madhu Bhabhi’s nanad? She slept with Rashmi Bhabhi yesterday.”

I rebuked her, “So what is wrong in that?”

Basanti continued, “Didi, when I say ‘slept’… okay, I will have to tell you everything openly.” I giggled and said, “Agar tum nahin khol kar bataogi to main tumhara khol dungi.”

She too laughed and said, “As yesterday there was a huge crowd, everybody shared quilts and then the lights went out. I was also there in a corner. I could hear whispering between Adi and Rashmi Bhabhi. Adi was resisting, but soon she gave in. Rashmi Bhabhi was caressing her thighs and suddenly she pushed her finger into Adi’s choot.”

I asked, “How?” Laughing, she pushed her finger into my choot, saying, “Aise.” I enjoyed the feel and let her continue.

By now I was on my back and Basanti was sitting between my thighs, squeezing my shoulders. She told me that when the lights went out and Rashmi Bhabhi thought everyone was sleeping, she turned the quilt and came over Adi. She was rubbing her breasts over Adi’s top and soon lifted it too. Rashmi Bhabhi’s sari was open and she lifted Adi’s skirt and started rubbing her choot against Adi’s choot.

I had put my feet inside Basanti’s saya and lifted it. My big toe entered her choot and I said, “Let me rub yours too.”

She was enjoying the feel and continued, “Didi, Rashmi Bhabhi was over Adi and she was doing such jabardast ragdai-ghisai of her choot.”

I made a mistake of asking “How?” This time Basanti, holding my breasts, lifted my petticoat and came over my choot, starting to rub it hard. I had become hot too, so we opened each other’s blouses and started sucking choonchis.

Basanti said, “Yes, Adi was sucking Bhabhi’s choonchi just like this.”

I was raising my chootar in response to Basanti’s thrusts. Soon I forced her down and now I was on top. I was using last night’s lessons. I rubbed Basanti’s choot hard and then shoved two fingers inside. I was fucking her as if it were a lund, and I was also searching for her “that” spot. My fingers came out and I started grinding my choot over hers. My fingers pinched her clit. Soon she came and I joined her too.

She then completed her story. It was not only Adi and Rashmi Bhabhi — Madhu Bhabhi too had trapped Gunja, Basanti’s nanad. She was called to massage her head, but soon Madhu Bhabhi pulled her hands over her choonchis. And they too enjoyed.

Sure enough, somebody was looking for Basanti. She left me and I also got ready.

I went into the kitchen where Rashmi Bhabhi and Adi were preparing meals. Mausi called Rashmi Bhabhi and asked me to prepare the meal fast with Adi, as some guests were going back. Now I was left alone with her. She was looking cute. She noticed me looking at her young teen breasts and blushed.

I said, “Really well developed.”

She hugged me and said, “But not like yours, Didi.”

I said, “Adi, if you had been my nanad, I would have taught you all the tricks.”

Adi laughed and said, “Sisters too can be close.” (I recalled our episode with Neelu Didi and Cheenu when we were Adi’s age.) I agreed, “Yes, my mistake,” and hugged her back.

I told her, “Lesson number one: if we get to rub our choonchis, it will help them grow.”

She laughed and said, “Whenever, wherever you say, Didi.”

“Second lesson,” I told her, “a house during marriage has the most chances. There are many boys too whom you can enjoy, but chances of meeting again are few, so use this opportunity. And don’t limit yourself to boys your age — mature and married males are better.”

She became serious but asked, “What if there is some problem?”

“Oops, my mistake,” I said. “You can take a packet of pills from my purse (the same as I gave to Chavi). It can be used any time, even as a morning-after pill, but the best is to take one every day. You never know when the chance will knock.”

She hugged me again, and this time not only did I squeeze her teen, young, tennis-ball-sized breasts, but I also kissed her on the lips.

I found Mausa ji calling me. I went out. He said Ravi had rung up — he would be coming in an hour. Both of us should go and check the arrangements for the reception tonight. There would be a party, DJ, and the caterers had also arrived. I left Adi and went to my room to get ready.

I was deciding what to wear while going out with Jiju. I discarded the sari (too traditional and it would again give him a chance — I found a sari most dangerous because it could be lifted and my choot would be accessible). A salwar suit was not teasing enough (I wanted to play safe but at the same time did not wish to lose the chance of flaunting my assets and teasing him).

I had put almost all my dresses on the bed when Adi walked in, smiling and displaying her tennis-ball-sized, hard teen choonchis. She said, “Didi, I thought let me pick up the pills from you before you disappear with Jiju. After that, one never knows when you become free,” winking at me.

I pinched her uthti hui choonchi and said, “No, I have all the care for my young sis. Take it from the purse — it is in the outer pocket.”

She picked up one packet of pills and kept it in her purse. She looked at the various dresses lying on the cot and asked, “Hey Didi, what is bugging you?”

I told her my problem. She laughed and said, “Didi, you are on the horns of a dilemma.”

“Yes,” I admitted, “I want to feel horny and make him horny, but also prevent myself from his horn.”

She thought for a minute and came up with a unique suggestion. She offered that I could wear her jeans with a tight tank top. I looked at my plump hips and said, “But Adi, they will hardly fit me.”

She laughed and said, “Exactly! That is why it will make him hard. You told me he is both a boobs man and an ass man. My jeans will ensure at least the latter part.”

“And will you go nude from here, swinging your naked chootar, Rani?” I teased her.

She had an answer for everything. “No Didi, I will wear your sexy pants. They may be slightly loose, but they will give a chance to anybody and everybody to push his hand inside my pants. With the pill now, I feel free, safe, and more daring.”

It was decided that both of us would undress together. I had already removed my sari and undone my blouse. Adi pulled my saya and I pulled her jeans. Basanti had already divested me of my panty, but Adi’s choot was still hidden under hers. I removed it in one sweep and hugged her. Before she could resist, I was doing ragdai-ghisai of her choot with mine.

She responded enthusiastically. She opened my bra too and I lifted her top. I was surprised — her young breasts were not hidden under any bra, so our boobs met. Adi was endowed with a beautiful pair of knockers. They must have been 32, but her cup size was C, and on her slender 17-year-old frame they were fabulous. I rubbed them with my 36D jugs, teased her tits with mine, and just the titillating touch made both our nipples erect. My one hand was holding her back while the other was caressing her young, teen, small and firm chootar. I kissed her on the lips and she tried to move her head away, but after 3-4 attempts we were licking, sucking, and nibbling each other’s lips. My choot kept grinding against hers and now my fingers too had joined in, rubbing her labia. She was enjoying every minute of it. Now her choot was not a passive participant but was kissing, caressing, and brushing my choot with desire and authority.

Soon there were sounds of footsteps and we had to stop our Sapphic play. Adi made me wear her jeans. Our heights were the same, but my hips were plump, and with our joint efforts it could go up. With great difficulty it rose over my pelvic bone and was almost hanging there. Adi opened a button on top and that made it a bit comfortable. However, it opened my front and my choot was only a few inches away. Adi had ensured that I did not wear any panty, so I could feel the jeans rubbing directly on my chootar.

I thought that at least my big, voluptuous choonchis should be covered with a bra, as the tank top was too thin. But Adi would have none of it, and I was made to wear my thin, tight yellow top just over my bare breasts. My hard, firm, proud choonchis were raising their heads and I was looking more provocative than a Baywatch girl. Adi pinched my tits very hard and they became steel erect. Now there was a clear invitation written over my boobs: “Hey, come and squeeze me.”

The top was inadequate to cover my choonchis, so expecting it to hide my flat, fair tummy and deep navel was too much. When I looked at myself from behind in the mirror, I was awestruck. The front was nothing compared to the back. Adi’s jeans were too little to contain my sexy, swinging ass. The crack of my chootar was so evident that even from a distance one could clearly identify it, and my being without panties only accentuated it. My long, slender legs blooming into heavy hips — every curve and full shape was being shown in that literally hip-hugging jean.

I picked up a Lycra jacket, which again was inadequate but gave me a sense of coverage. Adi giggled and said, “If I know Jiju, this will not be with you for much time.”