[prasannas2001]

Super update

Thank you so much 

[prasannas2001]

Super updates and everybody wants Rohan's type of luck but sad reality it is not possible to everyone 

 
 
 
 
Thank you so much for your support and compliments.
 
 
 
 
 

[prasannas2001]

Exciting updates

 
 
 
 
Thank you so much 
 

 
 
 
 

[prasannas2001]

Wonderful planning of Rohan

 
 
 
 
Thank you so much 
 
 
 
 
 

[prasannas2001]

 

Planning for next meet with Mamta
 
The next few days passed so quickly, it was a Tuesday evening when Rohan first thought of it.
 
He was lying on his bed, scrolling through his phone, when the idea came to him.
 
Friday.
 
He thought Anjali would be home, Saturday is off.
 
And Neetu.
 
Neetu could come over. She could stay the night. And while she was here, safe and occupied with Anjali, I could be somewhere else.
 
With Mamta.
 
He sat up, his heart racing. It was perfect.
 
He found Anjali in her room, reading on her bed.
 
"Anju."
 
She looked up. "What?"
 
"I have an idea."
 
"I can tell. You have that look."
 
"What look?"
 
"The look you get when you're planning something."
 
He sat beside her. "Friday."
 
"What?"
 
"I want Neetu to come over. For a sleepover."
 
Anjali raised an eyebrow. "A sleepover? With us? Parents will be home. What can you do?"
 
"No, she will be with you. She'll stay here, with you. Safe. Occupied."
 
"And you?"
 
"I'll be elsewhere."
 
"Elsewhere?"
 
"Mamta's."
 
Anjali was quiet for a moment. Then she smiled. "Ohh… You want to go to Mamta while Neetu is here."
 
"Yes."
 
"So Neetu doesn't know."
 
"No. She doesn't need to know."
 
Anjali studied him. "What if she asks where you are? She has been helping you in getting close to Mamta."
 
"Still it is better she does not know about this. Meeting and talking is different. Friday, I am planning to take Mamta completely. Make her mine. So it is better Neetu does not know about this Friday. Tell her I went out with friends. She won't question it."
 
"And if she does?"
 
"She won't." He paused. "She trusts you. She trusts me. She won't question anything."
 
Anjali was quiet for a long moment. Then she nodded.
 
"Okay. I'll invite her."
 
"Good girl."
 
"But Rohan, " She caught his hand. "Be careful. Neetu is her daughter. If she finds out that you were with her mom the whole night…"
 
"She won't find out."
 
"But if she does…"
 
"She won't." He kissed her forehead. "Trust me."
 
"I do trust you. That's what worries me."
 
He laughed. "That's why you're my partner."
 

[prasannas2001]

 

The Invitation
 

The next morning, Anjali found Neetu in the canteen.
 
"Neetu! Just the person I was looking for."
 
Neetu looked up from her tray. "Anju? What's up?"
 
"I have a proposition."
 
"I'm listening."
 
"Friday. I am thinking why don’t you come over? We can have a sleepover. It’s been a while" Anjali paused. "Come over. Stay the night. Keep me company. Let us have fun… "
 
Neetu's face brightened. "Really? A sleepover? Yes, it has been a while we had a sleepover.  And I remember the last sleepover. Unforgettable one."
 
"Really, yes. We can watch movies, eat junk food. It'll be fun."
 
"I'd love that."
 
"Great. Come over around six. I'll have everything ready."
 
"I'll be there."
 
Anjali smiled. "Perfect."
 
She walked away, her heart racing.
 
Step one complete.
 
Next is the confirmation from Neetu
 
That evening, Neetu texted Anjali.
 
Neetu: Mummy said yes! I can come over Friday.
 
Anjali: Yay! I'm so excited!
 
Neetu: Me too! What should I bring?
 
Anjali: Just yourself. And maybe your favorite snacks.
 
Neetu: Okay! See you Friday!
 
Anjali: See you Friday!
 
Anjali set her phone down and looked at Rohan.
 
"She's coming."
 
"Good." He smiled. "Now I can call Mamta."
 
That night, Rohan sat in his room, his phone in his hand.
 
He'd been waiting for this moment. The house was quiet. Anjali was asleep. His parents were in their room.
 
He dialed Mamta's number.
 
She answered on the second ring.
 
"Rohan?"
 
"Hi." His voice was soft. "Did I wake you?"
 
"No. I was just reading."
 
"Good." He paused. "I have something to tell you."
 
"What?"
 
"Friday. I'm coming to see you."
 
There was a moment of silence. Then: "Friday?"
 
"Yes. Neetu is staying with Anjali here.  The whole night. I'll be free."
 
"Free?"
 
"Free to be with you. All night."
 
Another silence. He could hear her breathing.
 
"Rohan, "
 
"I've been thinking about it all week. About you. About us. About what we did."
 
"Me too."
 
"But the whole night, what if Neetu finds out? Or what if someone else finds out?"
 
"No one will find out. Trust me. All night. I want to make love to you until the sun comes up."
 
He heard her breath catch.
 
"You're going to make me blush."
 
"Good. I want you to blush. I want you to think about me till I knock on your door on Friday evening."
 
"I already do."
 
"Good." He paused. "I'll come evening, After Neetu is settled here with Anju."
 
"I'll be waiting."
 
"Wear something beautiful. For me."
 
"I will."
 
"And Mamta?"
 
"Yes?"
 
"I love you."
 
"I love you too."
 
He ended the call and lay back, staring at the ceiling.
 
Friday. Just two more days.
 

[prasannas2001]

Wow...! Lovely presentation prasannas Ji...
Great waiting for story what happens next....

 
 
 
 
Thank you so much Rohit. 
 
Next updates will be coming today or tomorrow I am working on them now.  
 
 
  
 
 

[prasannas2001]

Great update

 
 
 
 
Thank you so much 
 

 
 

[prasannas2001]

Final move to get Mamta

 
 
 
 
Thank you so much 
 
 
 
 
 

[prasannas2001]

Update please

Thank you for waiting. I will be giving the updates soon. 

[prasannas2001]

I am going to give the updates soon. Please stay tuned.

[prasannas2001]

 

 
Thursday - The Anticipation
 
The next two days passed slowly.
 
Rohan found himself thinking about her constantly. The way she looked at him. The way she felt beneath him. The sounds she made when he touched her.
 
He couldn't wait.
 
On Thursday night, he texted her.
 
Rohan: One more day.
 
Mamta: I know. I can't sleep.
 
Rohan: Neither can I. I keep thinking about you.
 
Mamta: What are you thinking about?
 
Rohan: Your lips. Your skin. The way you say my name when you're close.
 
Mamta: You're going to drive me crazy.
 
Rohan: Good. I want you to be crazy. I want you to be desperate by tomorrow night.
 
Mamta: I already am.
 
Rohan: Good girl.
 
Mamta: What time will you come?
 
Rohan: Seven. Maybe earlier.
 
Mamta: I'll be ready.
 
Rohan: What will you wear?
 
Mamta: Something special. For you.
 
Rohan: Describe it.
 
Mamta: It's a surprise.
 
Rohan: I don't like surprises.
 
Mamta: You'll like this one.
 
Rohan: Tell me.
 
Mamta: No. You'll see tomorrow.
 
Rohan: You're teasing me.
 
Mamta: Maybe.
 
Rohan: I'll remember this.
 
Mamta: I hope so.
 
He set the phone down, smiling.
 
Tomorrow. Finally.
 
 
 
The Friday : Evening Past 6pm
 
Friday evening arrived.
 
Rohan watched from his window as Neetu walked up the driveway. She was carrying an overnight bag and smiling.
 
Anjali opened the door, hugging her.
 
"Neetu! You're here!"
 
"I'm here!"
 
They disappeared inside.
 
Rohan waited. He heard their voices, laughter, chatter, the sounds of two friends settling in for the night.
 
Then his phone buzzed.
 
Anjali: She's settled. You can go.
 
He grabbed his jacket and keys. He walked downstairs, passing the living room where Anjali and Neetu were curled up on the couch with snacks and a movie.
 
"Rohan!" Neetu called. "Where are you going?"
 
"Out with friends," he said casually. "I might be late. Don’t wait for me."
 
"I thought you would be here."
 
"I wish, but this was planned way before."
 
He caught Anjali's eye. She nodded slightly.
 
He walked out the door.
 

 

[prasannas2001]

The Dark House - Complete Darkness
 
The Preparation
 
Mamta spent the entire afternoon preparing.
 
She moved through the house like a woman possessed, pushing furniture against walls or into locked rooms.
 
She rolled up rugs that could trip him, removed everything sharp or dangerous, closed every curtain, every blind, every door.
 
She even taped over the tiny indicator lights on electronic devices, those small red and green eyes that would betray the darkness.
 
The house became a void.
 
A perfect, absolute darkness.
 
Then she took her bath.
 
She exfoliated her skin until it was soft as silk, until it glowed.
 
She applied jasmine oil to her hair, working it through the strands until they shone, then smoothed it across her body, down her arms, her stomach, her thighs, until her skin caught the faint light like water.
 
She perfumed herself with the scent he loved, dabbing it at her wrists, behind her ears, the hollow of her throat.
 
She put on her saree.
 
Deep blue silk, so soft it felt like water against her skin.
 
She dbangd it carefully, deliberately, letting the fabric settle against her curves.
 
Nothing underneath.
 
No blouse.
 
No petticoat.
 
Just her and the silk.
 
The cool fabric whispered against her bare skin with every breath, a constant, teasing reminder of her own nakedness beneath.
 
She was ready.
 

[prasannas2001]

 
The Arrival
 
The doorbell rang.
 
Mamta walked through the darkness, her bare feet silent on the floor.
 
She knew every step, every corner, every inch of her home.
 
She'd memorized it in the dark, spent hours walking these paths until her body knew them better than her eyes ever had.
 
She opened the door.
 
Rohan stood there, silhouetted against the faint glow of the street lamp.
 
He couldn't see her, only her outline, the shimmer of her saree catching the dim light like starlight on dark water.
 
"What happened?" His voice carried surprise, uncertainty.
 
He wasn't sure what she was up to.
 
"Come in," she whispered.
 
He stepped inside.
 
She closed the door behind him, and the darkness became absolute.
 
"Rohan, "
 
"Where are you?"
 
She pressed her body against his.
 
The silk of her saree brushed against his clothes, and through the thin fabric, he could feel the warmth of her bare skin, the softness of her body yielding against him.
 
His breath caught.
 
His hands hovered at her waist, trembling slightly, as if he was afraid she might dissolve beneath his touch.
 
The heat of her body seeped through the silk, radiating against his palms before he'd even made contact.
 
"Touch me," she whispered.
 
"Feel me."
 
He reached out, his hands finding her waist.
 
The silk was smooth, almost liquid beneath his fingers.

[prasannas2001]

 
Rohan could feel the heat of her skin through it, not just warmth, but her, the living, breathing essence of her body pressed against the fabric.
 
"You're not wearing anything under this," he breathed.
 
His voice was thick, rough with something between awe and hunger.
 
"No."
 
"You're, "
 
"I'm completely bare.
 
Just this saree.
 
That's all."
 
His hands moved up her waist, feeling her curves through the silk.
 
She was warm, soft, trembling.
 
He traced the line of her spine, the flare of her hips, the dip of her waist.
 
And he felt everything.
 
The silk was impossibly thin, a whisper, a breath, a membrane between his hands and her nakedness.
 
Beneath it, her skin was molten.
 
He could feel the subtle texture of her flesh, the gentle swell of her stomach, the graceful curve of her ribs.
 
When his fingers traced her spine, he felt each vertebra, the delicate architecture of her body laid bare beneath the fabric.
 
Her hips flared beneath his palms, round and full, and he could feel the heat pooling there, radiating through the silk like embers beneath ash.
 
She trembled, and he felt it, not just against his hands, but through the fabric, the vibration of her body traveling up his arms and settling somewhere deep in his chest.
 
He could feel her heartbeat.
 
Or perhaps it was his own.
 
In the darkness, the two had become indistinguishable.
 
"I've been waiting for this," she said.
 
"I've been planning this for days."
 
"Mamta, " His voice broke.
 
He couldn't finish.
 
"There are no lights.
 
No sounds except us.
 
I've cleared the house of everything dangerous.
 
Nothing can hurt you."
 
"Why, "
 
"Because I want you to feel me.
 
Not see me.
 
Feel me.
 
Every touch, every kiss, every breath.
 
I want you to know me in the dark.
 
The way I've been in the dark for so long."
 
She paused, her lips brushing his ear.
 
The warmth of her breath sent a shiver down his spine.
 
"And I want to feel you with my hands.
 
My body.
 
All of me."
 
She slipped away from him.
 
"Now catch me," she whispered.

[prasannas2001]

 
The Game
 
"Mamta, "
 
"Find me, Rohan."
 
"Find me in the dark."
 
Her voice came from the left.
 
He moved toward it, his hands outstretched, fingers brushing empty air.
 
The darkness pressed against his eyes, absolute and disorienting.
 
"Every time you catch me, you get a few minutes.
 
And then I'll escape again."
 
"Mamta, "
 
"Don't be scared.
 
I've made it safe.
 
Just trust me."
 
He took a step forward, his hands finding the wall.
 
The house was silent except for his breathing and the soft rustle of her saree somewhere ahead of him.
 
The sound was maddening, a whisper of silk, a promise of her body just beyond his reach.
 
"I'm here," she whispered.
 
Her voice was close.
 
"Come find me."
 
He moved toward her voice, his heart hammering against his ribs.
 
Every nerve in his body was alive, straining for the faintest sound, the softest breath, the smallest hint of her presence.
 
The air itself felt charged, heavy with her scent, jasmine and something else, something warm and intimate that made his blood run hot.
 
The silk rustled again.
 
Closer now.
 
His fingers brushed something, a wisp of fabric, a strand of hair, he couldn't tell.
 
But it was her, and his entire body surged toward the contact.
 
"Found you," he breathed.
 
She laughed, low and soft, and slipped away again.
 
The sound of her saree trailing across the floor was the only compass he had, and he followed it blindly, desperately, into the dark.

[prasannas2001]

 
First Catch ,  The Living Room
 
He moved toward her voice, his hands reaching out into the blackness.
 
They found her, her waist, her hips, and he pulled her close, his fingers sinking into the silk that clung to her body.
 
"I caught you," he breathed.
 
His heart was pounding, his chest rising and falling against hers.
 
"Yes, you did." Her voice was soft, pleased.
 
"Now you have a few minutes."
 
"What do I do with them?"
 
"Whatever you want." Her lips found his ear, her breath warm against his skin.
 
"I'm yours.
 
For a few minutes, I'm completely yours."
 
His lips found hers in the darkness.
 
She was soft and warm, her mouth opening to him like a flower.
 
She tasted sweet, honey and desire and something deeper, something that made his head spin.
 
He kissed her like a drowning man, drinking her in, his hands cupping her face to hold her steady.
 
"You taste so good," he murmured against her lips.
 
"So do you."
 
His hands moved up her waist, finding her breasts through the silk.
 
They were bare beneath the fabric, no barrier, no protection, just her.
 
Warm.
 
Responsive.
 
He felt her nipples harden against his palms, felt the sharp intake of her breath.
 
She gasped against his lips, and the sound went straight through him, settling low in his belly.
 
"You're so beautiful," he breathed.
 
"I can feel every curve.
 
Every soft place."
 
And he could.
 
Through the whisper-thin silk, her body was a landscape he was learning by touch alone.
 
The weight of her breasts in his palms, full and yielding.
 
The soft swell of her belly beneath his fingers.
 
The flare of her hips, round and warm, made to be held.
 
"Then touch me.
 
Feel all of me."
 
His hands roamed her body through the silk, her breasts, her waist, her hips, her thighs.
 
Every inch of her was warm, alive, trembling beneath his touch.
 
The silk moved with his hands, sliding over her skin like water, and he could feel everything, the texture of her flesh, the heat of her blood, the rapid flutter of her pulse at her throat.
 
She moaned softly, encouraging him, and the sound was almost too much.
 
He wanted to tear the silk away.
 
He wanted to see her.
 
But the darkness held him, forced him to rely on touch alone, and somehow that made it more intense.
 
"I want more," he said, his voice rough.
 
"I want to feel your skin."
 
"Then catch me again."
 
She slipped away, and he felt the absence of her body like a wound.
 
 
 

[prasannas2001]

 
Second Catch ,  The Hallway
 
"I'm here," she called.
 
Her voice came from the hallway.
 
He followed it, his hands finding the wall, the doorframe.
 
He moved carefully, guided by her soft breathing, by the faint rustle of silk that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once.
 
"Rohan, " Her voice was a whisper.
 
"Where are you?"
 
"I'm close."
 
His hands found her.
 
She was pressed against the hallway wall, her body warm and waiting.
 
The silk of her saree was cool against his fingertips, a stark contrast to the heat beneath.
 
"Caught you again," he said.
 
"Then take what you want."
 
He pressed his body against hers, feeling every curve align with his own.
 
His lips found her neck, and she tilted her head back, exposing her throat like an offering.
 
"Kiss me," she breathed.
 
"Kiss me where I'm bare."
 
His lips found her shoulder, the silk had slipped, revealing a crescent of bare skin.
 
He kissed her there, tasting her warmth, the faint salt of her skin, the jasmine oil she'd applied hours ago.
 
She shuddered against him.
 
"More," she whispered.
 
His lips moved up her neck, finding her pulse.
 
It was racing, a frantic rhythm beneath his mouth.
 
He pressed his lips to it, felt the life thrumming through her veins, and something primal stirred in his chest.
 
"You're so responsive," he murmured against her skin.
 
"Every touch, every kiss, you respond."
 
"I can't help it.
 
You make me feel so alive."
 
"Then let me make you feel more."
 
His hands found the edge of her saree, pushing the pallu aside.
 
Her shoulder was bare, her collarbone, the top of her chest.
 
The silk pooled around her waist, and he could feel the cool air on her skin, the goosebumps rising beneath his fingers.
 
"So beautiful," he breathed.
 
"I want to taste all of you."
 
"Then catch me again."
 
She slipped away, and he was left standing in the darkness, his lips still tasting her, his hands still reaching for what was no longer there.

 
 
 
 

[prasannas2001]

 
Third Catch ,  The Kitchen
 
"I'm in the kitchen," she called.
 
"Find me."
 
He moved carefully, his hands finding the kitchen counter.
 
The room smelled like jasmine, her scent was everywhere, saturating the air until he could barely think.
 
"Mamta, "
 
"I'm right here."
 
He turned, his hands finding her.
 
She was standing by the counter, her body warm and waiting.
 
He could feel the cool granite against his knuckles as he reached past her, trapping her between his body and the counter's edge.
 
"Caught you," he said.
 
"Yes.
 
Now what do you want?"
 
"I want to feel you.
 
All of you."
 
His hands moved down her body, finding the edge of her saree.
 
He pushed it aside, revealing her bare hip.
 
The silk fell away like water, and his fingers found skin, warm, impossibly soft, the curve of her hip bone sharp beneath his palm.
 
"So soft," he breathed.
 
"So warm."
 
His lips found her hip, kissing her skin.
 
She tasted like jasmine and salt, like the oil she'd smoothed into her body hours ago.
 
He pressed his tongue to her hip bone, felt her shiver, heard the sharp intake of her breath.
 
"Rohan, "
 
"Tell me what you want."
 
"I want you to feel me.
 
Everywhere."
 
His hands moved up her body, finding her breasts through the silk.
 
He squeezed them gently, feeling their weight, their warmth, the way they yielded beneath his palms.
 
Her nipples were hard, straining against the fabric, and when he rolled them between his fingers, she moaned.
 
The sound was raw, unguarded, and it ignited something in him.
 
"I want more," he said, his voice thick with need.
 
"I want to taste more of you."
 
"Then catch me again."
 
She slipped away, and he was alone in the kitchen, surrounded by her scent, his hands still burning with the memory of her skin.

 
 
 
 

[prasannas2001]

 
Fourth Catch ,  The Dining Room
 
"I'm in the dining room," she called.
 
"Come find me."
 
He moved toward her voice, his hands finding the table, the chairs.
 
The wood was cool beneath his fingertips, familiar, but his mind was elsewhere, still back in the kitchen, still feeling the ghost of her skin against his palms.
 
She was waiting near the window.
 
Her silhouette was just barely visible in the absolute darkness, a deeper shade of black against black, the faint shimmer of blue silk catching what little light existed.
 
"Rohan, "
 
"I'm here."
 
His hands found her waist, pulling her close.
 
She was breathing hard, her chest rising and falling against his, and he could feel her heart pounding through the silk.
 
"Caught you," he said.
 
"Yes." Her voice was trembling.
 
"And I don't want to escape this time."
 
"What do you want?"
 
"I want you to hold me.
 
I want you to kiss me.
 
I want you to make me feel like I'm the only woman in the world."
 
"You are." He kissed her forehead, his lips lingering against her skin.
 
"You've always been the only woman in the world."
 
"You mean that?"
 
"I mean everything I've ever said to you."
 
He kissed her, deep and slow.