- 12
- 16
- 4
A Little Note From Nihalika
Hello Dosto,This is my very first time posting a story here, and my heart is beating a little faster than usual as I write this. I've always had stories swirling in my head, passionate tales that I've been desperate to put on paper, but I have a confession to make. I have a bit of a problem when it comes to writing. I'll sit down, full of inspiration, but as the scenes get hotter and the emotions get deeper, my mind... well, it wanders. A different kind of heat takes over. The words on the screen start to blur, and instead of holding my pen or typing on the keyboard, I find my fingers trailing down, and before I know it, my hand is inside my panties, which are already damp from the very thoughts I'm trying to write. It's a secret, embarrassing distraction that always leaves my stories incomplete. But writing is my passion, and I refuse to let it win! So, I tried my best to write a short story, one I could hopefully finish before my own... urges took over.
This first story is a little taboo, so please read the small disclaimer below.
(Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and is intended for mature audiences only. The story contains themes of incest, which are not to be confused with or encouraged in real life.)
On top of it all, this is the first time I've ever tried to write from a boy's perspective. I've based it on what I've read and what I've imagined, but I'm really not sure if I got it right.
So, this is where I need your help. I'm putting myself out there, and I'd be so grateful for your honest thoughts. Was it just plain boring? Do you see any potential for me to improve, or do you think I should just stop writing altogether?
Every bit of feedback means the world to me as I try to navigate this new passion.
Thank you so much for reading.
Your Nihalika
Chapter 1 - Incestuous Secret
"Look what you've done to my doudou, Devar-ji, (Dekho kya kar diya aapne mere doudou ka, Devar-ji)," Anjali moaned as Harsh's mouth latched on his Bhabhi's left boob, his tongue swirling around the firm, pebbled rock nipple, enjoying the hot milk taste down his throat. His eyes flipped to her right in surprise and saw it. Two perfect, high-pressure white rivers of milk were now flowing freely from two tiny duct orifices of her dark brown, swollen nipples, while other weaker drops were glistening down her king-size areolas to land drop by drop over her pregnant belly like a broken tap before finally soaking into the silk of her yellow cotton panty within her blue saree. "Naughty Devar-ji, I told you to just drink, not suck or lick, (Naughty Devar-ji, maine kaha tha bas peelo, chooso ya chatto nahi)," she panted. "Don't play with it now, let it flow... you got me so excited, (Ab isse khelo nahi, rehne do ise flow hone... mujh itna excite kar diya)."
"Well, well, looks like the doudou-milk party already started, Bahu, (Arre arre, lagta hai doudou-milk party shuru ho gayi, Bahu)," a teasing, mature voice called out. It was Sumitra, Harsh's mother. She was passing by, wearing an old, thin red blouse. Her large cotton panty was over her saree and petticoat, all lying on the floor at the entrance door. As she passed them, Harsh couldn't help but admire his mommy's two large, old, saggy ass bums, which were deformed globes, and as she walked, the flesh didn't bounce; it swayed and jiggled with a confident, almost defiant sway. The cheeks flattened at the bottom, spreading wide where they met the tops of her thick thighs. “Who would have thought, (Kaun soch sakta tha),” she mused, looking at them, “months ago, this boy only knew the taste of beer and whiskey, (mahine pehle, is ladke ko beer aur whiskey ke swaad ke alawa kuch nahi maloom tha).”
But she had come for another reason. In front of her, the tall guy, Sameer, was fucking the full length of his dick inside his Bhabhi Sonakshi, whose moaning was not less than a cry of death. Sonakshi was Sumitra’s little niece and Harsh’s cousin sister. There was no room for pity as Sameer was enjoying her vulnerable short, slim, and weak body by spreading her legs wide and snatching her two ponytails as his balls would clash against her red, sore, and wide-open asshole. Despite her pain, Sonakshi was staring at her Devar, Sameer, who lived next to her house, with a knowing smirk on her face, just provoking him to ponder deeper and fiercer.
He fucked her with deep, punishing thrusts, each one making her body jolt despite her moaning of 'su-su... su-su." As he felt her anus tighten around him, he withdrew suddenly. Sonakshi's body convulsed, and a powerful, involuntary squirt erupted from her pee-pee hole, a long, clear stream that made her entire body tremble. He viewed the rim of his neighbor Bhabhi's asshole, and understood the pain she would be enduring the days to come.
"Arre, meri randi Sonakshi Bhabhi! That's very dirty. You peed su-su all over me? Are you just a little girl? Look at your sister, Harsh! She’s pissing like a fountain! Such a naughty, pregnant slut, (Arre, meri randi Bhabhi! "Ye bahut gandi baat hui. Tumne su-su mere upar hi kar diya? Kya tum bilkul chhoti lalki ho?" apni behen ko, Harsh! Woh fountain ki tarah peshab kar rahi hai! Kitni naughty, pregnant slut!)" Sameer growled, his voice thick with lust.
"Don't look, Sameer Devar-ji... I know I'm peeing like a bitch! (Mat dekho, Devar-ji... main jaanti hoon main kutiya ki tarah peshab kar rahi hoon!)," she whimpered into the fabric. Sonakshi hid her face in the pillow, mortified. “Just fuck me more! (Bas aur chodo mujhe!)”
Before Sameer could respond, Sonakshi, with a wicked grin, threw the pillow, her own hand flew down, slapping against her drenched, swollen pussy lips with wet smacks that mingled with the hiss of her flowing pee-pee.
Just then, the princess appeared at the door. "Chachu Harsh! Sameer Bhaiya!" It was little Ishani, their little favorite. "Leave my pregnant mama and Sona aunty alone! And stop staring at my Dadi's ass! (Meri pregnant mama aur Sona aunty ko akela chhodo! Aur meri Dadi ke gand dekhna band karo!)" she charged, her voice shockingly firm. "If you're so manly, then do it to me, your little doll! (Agar itne mard ho, toh mere saath karo, apni choti doll ke saath!)"
Before anyone could react, she lifted her small dress, pulled down her pink panty, and threw it directly at her young Chachu Harsh's face. Then, she stood there, her small hand revealing her naked pussy, plunged two fingers deep within her tight vagina wall and declared, "Here's the real fun, a tight and tender juicy chut... come and get it if you dare! (Yeh lo asli maza, ek tight aur tender juicy chut... agar himmat hai to aao aur lo!)”
Sonakshi's giggle was the same as it had been in the store when he was buying sanitary pads, a sound that consistently marked Sameer’s humiliation, a pattern started months ago. Sameer was just a young shying neighbor boy who peeped through a window. But now, he was on his knees, ready and inches to taste his Bhabhi's pee-pee, a direct result of the confidence his Bhabhi had given him after the car journey. Was it his luck to be the bestfriend of Harsh or being the neighbor of his sister Sonakshi...
Either way... she was sure that even Sameer would never forget that little car journey, where all this had started...
A few months earlier…
"Come on, Harsh! You're not making any effort to arrange money. At least for some beers, (Arre Harsh! Tum paise arrange karne mein kuch effort nahi kar rahe. Kam az kam beer ke liye toh kar lo,)" Sonakshi, who was reclined in the back passenger seat, leaned forward, a smirk playing on her lips provocatively. "I know why. It's because you’re just craving for my milk instead, isn’t it, rascal? (Mujhe pata hai kyu. Yeh ki tum bas mere dudh ke liye tarap rahe ho, naai, shaitaan?)"
The car hummed with a lazy afternoon heat, the city blurring past the windows.
The driver, Sameer, a broad boy from a middle-class family, chuckled, glancing at Harsh, a lanky and spoiled guy who was sitting beside him and then back at Sonakshi through the rearview mirror. Knowing Harsh's eyes were closed, his eyes lingered on the ample cleavage spilling from Sonakshi's white floral button-down dress. What is wrong with me? She's my neighbor. Manoj Bhaiya's wife, my Bhabhi.
She caught his stare, yet made no move to fix the two top undone buttons that did little to hide the shadowed entrance of her boobies. She knew he was trying hard to get a deeper sight of her prominent, firm breasts. Who wouldn’t glance at a young mother’s tits, especially if they were full of milk, she thought.
Instead of being coy, she slowly moved her hand, stroking her mangalsutra. The gold and black beads slid down, disappearing into the warm valley between her large, well-developed boobs. The way she was rubbing her wedding necklace along her cleavage was enough to give any man a clear idea of what she wanted him to rub in-between them.
Sameer quickly looks away. He grips the steering wheel, closes his eyes for a brief second, and mouths a silent, desperate wish formed in his mind, a plea to himself. Oh great, now my face is a red tomato. Sonakshi Bhabhi must probably seen me closing my eyes while she was giving me that teasing show. Just die, Sameer. Just die right now or just be cool like Harsh.
He took a shaky breath and forced his eyes open. Then, he lifted them to the rearview to look at her again. He saw her profile, her lips slightly parted, not angry, not annoyed, just... with a cute smile. A new, reckless thought, born of pure desperation, surged through him. Look at her, she's not angry, she's just waiting. That tease was for you! So, be nice and just reply to what she just show. Be a man. Give her a dirty comment, Sameer! Just do like Harsh used to do. This is what naughty guys do, and all ladies secretly love that. Just speak, Sameer! Just speak!
"Well, Sonakshi Bhabhi," Sameer said, his voice coming out a little thick, like he had a mouthful of cotton. He tried to tear his eyes away from her chest, "it’s not his fault for ignoring beer when… it feels like he gets drunk just from the idea of going to drink your milk... and... (Yeh beer ki wajah se nahi hai ki… lagta hai woh sirf aapke dudh peene ke khayal se hi ho jaata hai drunk... aur...)"
What... What did I just say? Milk? Bhabhi will think I'm a total cheap. He panicked inside, his heart doing a frantic drum solo against his ribs. His eyes, like two nervous little mice, darted from the road to her reflection in the mirror. But then he saw it, a flicker of movement in the rearview mirror. Her lips. They were curled into a small, knowing smile. It wasn't a smile of anger; it was a smile of... power. And that smile gave him a shot of pure, liquid courage.
"And what? Tell me, Sameer Devar-ji, (Aur kya? Batao, Sameer,)" as she requested him to complete his sentence, a teasing smile playing on her juicy red lips. He knew the word 'Devar-ji' in itself was a tease for all his Bhabhi called him just 'Sameer' and the 'ji' made her tease too obvious.
With a renew gut, his eyes was now searching for a glimpse of her areolas, which he knew must be visible since she was wearing a tight, undersized bra under her dress. He knew the small ones were never enough to cover her extra-large areolas, and he was certain she'd already caught him stealing a few flashes since the journey began. "And... and probably about... some well-garnished, surely abundant juice, Bhabhi-ji. (Aur... aur shayad... kuch well-garnished, pakka abundant juice ke baare mein, Bhabhi-ji)" he finished, his gaze pointedly dropping towards her thighs.
Sonakshi, though shy at the directness of Harsh's best friend, felt a thrill of power for his newly born boldness. She turns her head slightly, and her eyes lock with his in the mirror. He freezes, wide-eyed, like a deer in headlights. His foot even slips off the accelerator for a second, causing the car to lurch, making her giving him a teasing smile.
"At least Harsh was clear with his intention and bold enough to ask for it openly, (Kam se kam Harsh apne niyat mein clear tha aur itna bold tha ki woh khule taur pe maangne mein himmat karta tha,)" she added teasingly, her voice a low purr. Her hand left her mangalsutra to shift to the middle of her right breast, her finger slowly circling the peak of her nipple over the thin fabric of her dress, as if putting on a show just for him. "Unlike certain next-door neighbors who just glance at others' wives through the small window in the bathroom while they're bathing or giving their son a bath, (Kuch padosiyon ke ulat, jo sirf doosre ki patniyo ko bathroom ki choti khidki se niharte hain jab woh naha rahi hoti hai ya apne bethe ko naha rahi hoti hai.)"
Sameer suddenly cough while thumping his own chest. “I wasn’t there for that. It was just pure coincidence, Bhabhi-ji, (Main wahan isliye nahi tha. Yeh bas ek pura coincidence tha, Bhabhi-ji,)" Sameer chimed in unconvincingly.
Harsh’s eyes remained closed, a picture of feigned sleep, but a slight smirk played on his lips. He knew exactly what Sameer used to do. He lit a cigarette on the back stairs of his house whenever she was in the bathroom. She always pulled the curtain once she saw him, not because she was aware of his dirty intentions but because she was disappointed by his lack of manhood to be as bold as Harsh.
Sonakshi’s voice sharpened, losing its playful edge. "Harsh! Wake up. Will you arrange the money or not? Because I'm telling you, there'll be no tasting of my juice or my milk today. And my husband is out of town, so this is your only chance, (Harsh! Jag jao. Tum paise arrange karoge ya nahi? Kyunki main tumhe bilaakar rahi hoon, aaj mere juice ya mere dudh ka koi swaad nahi milega. Aur mera pati bahar gaya hai, toh yeh tumhari ek hi mauka hai.)"
"Hey, don't break a sweet lady's great hope of a party, (Arre, ek meethi aurat ki party ki ummeed mat todho,)" Sameer chimed in, nudging his friend's shoulder. "Her husband is out after eight months. Think of her suffering, (Uska pati 8 mahine ke baad bahar gaya hai. Uski takleef socho.)"
Harsh's eyes cracked open. "And since when did you start taking such good notes of your pretty neighbor's schedule, Sameer? (Aur tum kabse apni khubsurat padosan ke schedule ke itne acche notes le rahe ho, Sameer?)" he teased, his voice laced with amusement.
Sameer felt her shift and knew he's been looking for too long. Panic set in. He felt his face flush with embarrassment. "I... I just heard her mother-in-law mention it from my house. She’s my neighbor, (Main... main ne bas apne ghar se uski saas yeh baat suni. Woh meri padosan hai.)"
Sonakshi scoffed, sitting back and crossing her arms under her breasts, pushing them up even further. "You were right, Sameer. Marriage sucks. Harsh here just got me pregnant, and he is a… a boy I can love but can never marry. To hide my pregnancy, I had to have this arranged marriage… so quickly with a stupid man… And now the fool doesn't even have money for a simple beer, (Tum sahi keh rahe the, Sameer. Shaadi bakwaas hai. Yeh Harsh ne mujhe pregnant kar diya, aur woh ek… aisa ladka hai jise main pyar kar sakti hoon lekin shaadi nahi kar sakti. Mera pregnancy chupane ke liye mujhe yeh arrange marriage karna pada… itni jaldi ek bewakoof aadmi se… aur ab woh ullu ko ek simple beer ke liye bhi paise nahi hain.)"
Sameer's jaw went slack. His eyes darted from Sonakshi to Harsh and back again. "What? Your son is his son? Meaning you both… You both are… oh no, it’s… it’s… (Kya? Tumhara beta uska beta hai? Matlab tum dono… tum dono ho… oh nahi, yeh… yeh…)" He was so shocked he couldn't even complete a simple sentence.
Harsh's smirk widened. "You want to say that we're cousin brother and sister? Yeah, we are! I’m her dad's brother's son! (Tum kehna chahte ho ki hum cousin brother aur sister hain? Haan, hain! Main uske papa ke bhai ka beta hoon!)"
Sameer just stared, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. "But… but… that's… wow, (Lekin… lekin… yeh… wow.)"
Sonakshi leaned forward again, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper as she looked at Sameer. "What's the matter, Sameer neighbor-ji ? Cat got your tongue? Or are you just wishing you were a cousin brother too? Don’t worry, I’m your next-door Bhabhi-ji! (Kya baat hai, padosan Sameer? Billi ne tumhari zabaan pakad li? Ya tum bas yeh soch rahe ho ki kaash tum bhi cousin brother hote? Chinta mat karo, main tumhari next-door Bhabhi hoon!)" She then turned her fiery gaze back to Harsh. "And you! You get me pregnant because of that you get me married off to an idiot. I had to leave school to conceive your child and now you can't even get me a beer for a party! Useless Bhaiya! (Aur tum! Tumne mujhe pregnant kiya aur is wajah se mujhe ek idiot se shaadi karwa di. Apne bacche ko paida karne ke liye mujhe school chhodna pada aur ab tum mujhe ek party ke liye beer bhi nahi dilwa sakte! Bewakoof Bhaiya!)"
Harsh finally stirred, sitting up straight. He looked from Sameer's stunned face to Sonakshi's frustrated one, a slow, lazy grin spreading across his face. "Okay, okay! Suppose we’re going to have a party, but where? No money… no hotel… But whose house? And I can't bring you to a bar, Sonakshi. Your husband will kill me. That stupid has parents at home, am I right, Sameer? And I have my Bhabhi, my brother, her two kids, my mom... oh, it's too much trouble. What about your place... where's your kid, Sonakshi? ("Theek hai, theek hai! Maan lete hain ki hume party karni hai, lekin kahan? Paise nahi… hotel nahi… lekin kaun ghar? Aur main tumhe ek bar mein nahi le ja sakta, Sonakshi. Tumhara pati mujhe maar dega. Uske paas ghar par maa-baap hain, sahi hai na, Sameer? Aur meri Bhabhi hai, mera bhai, uske do bacche, meri maa... arre, bahut zyada pareshani hai. Tumhara ghar kaisa rahega... tumhara baccha kahan hai, Sonakshi?)"
She leaned forward and pinched his shoulder, a playful pout on her lips. "Not my kid, (Mera baccha nahi,)" she corrected him, her voice softening. "He's our sweet little baby. He's with my husband. He took him to his mother's place for the day. But my place? You’re my brother, that’s okay, but what about him, Bhaiya? (Woh hamara pyara sa chhota baccha hai. Woh mera pati ke saath hai. Usne use apni maa ke ghar le gaya hai din ke liye. Lekin mera ghar? Tum mere cousin brother ho, theek hai, lekin uska kya?)" She gestured towards Sameer. "Sameer lives next door to me! What will people say? (Sameer mere bagal mein rehta hai! Log kya kahenge?)"
Harsh glanced at Sameer's pouting face as he looked at the road silently and drove. "Just a little party between you and me, (Bas tum aur mere beech thodi si party,)" he said, his voice low and reassuring. "He'll go back to his place, (Woh apni jagah wapas jaayega.)"
Sonakshi knew Harsh was teasing. A mischievous glint appeared in her eyes as she slowly pulled the side of her white dress down, revealing more of her creamy shoulder and the strap of her orange bra.
"That’s rude, Harsh Bhaiya! I was hoping Sameer could join us. But you're right, it's probably safer this way, isn't it, Sameer? ("Yeh rude hai, Harsh! Main ummeed kar rahi thi ki Sameer bhi hamare saath aayega. Lekin tum sahi keh rahe ho, yeh tarah zyada safe hai, naai, Sameer?)" She purred, her eyes meeting Sameer's in the rearview mirror. "Besides, I heard a party between brother and sister must be more... private and intimate. We can listen to music and... talk. I even have a new king-sized bed that's perfect for... lounging around, watching some special movie and why not... trying some of the acts. We wouldn't want you to get the wrong idea or be traumatized when you hear the noises, my dear neighbor-ji, ("Waise, maine suna hai ki bhai aur behen ki party zyada... private aur hoti hai. Hum music sune aur... baat karein. Mere paas ek naya king-size bed bhi hai jo... aaraam karne ke liye behtar hai, koi special movie dekhne ke liye aur kyun nahi... kuch acts try karne ke liye. Hum nahi chahte ki tumhe galat fehmi ho ya tum traumatize ho jab tum awaazein sunoge, mere pyare padosan.)" She then added, a sly smile playing on her lips while catching Sameer’s stares from the rearview, "Anyway, Harsh, is this mirror for looking at the vehicles behind or the passengers sitting behind? ("Waise, Harsh, yeh mirror peeche wali gaadiyon ke liye hai ya piche baithe huye passengers ke liye?)"
Both Harsh and Sonakshi laughed. "Let that poor boy stare. At least he's having some guts, (Usse dekhne do kamzor ladke ko. Kam az kam usme himmat toh aa rahi hai.)" Harsh said, his voice firm but playful. “Come on, Sameer! I was joking, you're invited, (Aao, Sameer! Main mazaak kar raha tha, tumko bulaya hai.)"
"But what about his parents? (Lekin uske maa-baap kya?)" Sonakshi chimed in, her voice laced with feigned concern. "They'll question him for being at his neighbor’s house when her husband is away, especially his mom, (Woh usse puchenge ki woh apni padosan ke ghar kyun hai jab uska pati bahar gaya hai, khaaskar uski maa.)"
"Don't worry about that, (Uske baare mein chinta mat karo,)" Harsh said, waving his hand dismissively. "I can come to my sister's place whenever I want. No one can question me, not even your stupid husband. And he’s my best friend. We'll just pretend that I told him to come and watch a movie… and for returning back, it would be late at night, when everyone is sleeping, ("Main apni behen ke ghar kabhi bhi aa sakta hoon. Mujhe koi sawaal nahi kar sakta, tumhare bewakoof pati ko bhi nahi. Aur woh mera best friend hai. Hum bas yeh dikhaayenge ki maine use movie dekhne ke liye kaha tha... aur wapas aane ke liye, raat ko der tak hoga, jab sab so rahe honge.)" He then turned his attention back to Sonakshi, a hungry look in his eyes. "I'll arrange for the drinks, but what about food? What are we having, vegetables? (Main drinks ka intzaam karunga, lekin khana kya hai, sabzi?)"
Sonakshi's lips curved into a wicked smile. "That's my problem, (Yeh mera problem hai,)" she said, her voice a low, seductive murmur. "Maybe some young, tender chicken legs and breast. (Shayad kuch young, tender chicken legs aur breast.)" She then turned to Sameer, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Have you ever tasted that, neighbor Sameer? (Kabhi try kiya hai, padosan Sameer?)"
Sameer shook his head slowly, a look of mock disappointment on his face. "No, (Nahi,)" he said, his voice a low rumble. Come on, Sameer, say something. Something that don't make you a boring guy or a party spoiler, he thought. Be a cool boy, impress her! Then, a slow, predatory grin spread across his face. "Chicken legs are okay, I guess. And the breast... I like the breast too. (Chicken legs theek hai, mujhe lagta hai. Aur breast... mujhe breast bhi pasand hai.)" He paused, his eyes in the rearview mirror zeroing in, as if trying to bury his face in the deep, shadowed valley of her cleavage. He imagined the soft, warm skin at the very entrance of her boobs, the way it would feel against his tongue. "But, (Lekin,)" he continued, his voice dropping to a husky whisper, "I think I'd prefer... cow, Bhabhi-ji, ("main prefer karta hoon... cow, Bhabhi-ji.)"
Sonakshi's cheeks flushed, but she didn't back down. She leaned forward, giving him an even better view. "Well, Sameer Devar-ji, (Theek hai, Sameer, Devar-ji)" she said, her voice a sultry, breathless challenge, "if you're a very, very good boy and do exactly as you're told... maybe you'll get a taste of the whole farm, (agar tum bahut hi acche ladke ho aur jo main kehti hoon woh exactly karte ho... shayad tumhe poore farm ka swaad milega.)"
Harsh laughed, teasing Sonakshi. "A 'good boy'? Come on, Sonakshi, we're all the same age. I don't understand that 'ji' 'ji', Devar-ji, neighbor-ji, Bhabh-ji... is that the new trend? If you weren't a school dropout to get married, we would have been in the same class... or maybe on a farmhouse by now. (Ek 'good boy'? Aao, Sonakshi, hum sab ki umar barabar hai. Agar tum shaadi karne ke liye school chhodti nahi hoti, toh hum ek hi class mein hote... ya shayad aaj tak kisi farmhouse par.)"
Sameer’s grin faded, replaced by a look of genuine awe and intrigue. He was clearly impressed by her audacity. "Damn, a farm, (Arre, ek farm,)" he said, his voice filled with a new respect. "You're really something else, Bhabhi-ji. I was just wondering... what kind of lie did you have to spin to get a whole day to yourself, away from your husband and child? (Tum sach mein kuch alag ho, Bhabhi-ji. Main bas yeh soch raha tha... tumne kis tarh ki jhooth ka patta baaya tha apne aap ko poora din ke liye free rakhne ke liye, apne pati aur bacche se door?)"
"When your well is overflowing, a hundred or a thousand lies flow easily, neighbor-ji (Jab tumhara kuan se bhar jaata hai, toh sau ya hazaar jhooth aasani se nikalte hain,)" Sonakshi retorted, her eyes landing back on Harsh. "But how unfortunate I am! I called two stupid fools like you for a party, and you don't even have money for beer, (Lekin main kitni bhagyashali hoon! Maine party ke liye tumhare jaise do bewakoofon ko bulaya, aur tumhe ek beer ke liye bhi paise nahi hain.)"
Harsh glanced at her, his mind clicking into gear. "Sameer, take the next left. I'll go home and get the money, (Sameer, agla left le. Main ghar jaakar paise le aata hoon.)" He turned to look at Sonakshi, who was sitting behind them. "And you, (Aur tum,)" he said, his voice dropping to a commanding whisper, "don't you get down from the car. My Bhabhi will have a hundred questions. Why is she with you? What's the money for? Just wait in the car. I'll get the money and come back, (gaadi se neeche mat utarna. Meri Bhabhi sau sawaal poochegi. Woh tumhare saath kyun hai? Paise kya ke liye hain? Bas gaadi mein intzaar karo. Main paise le kar aata hoon)"
"But Anjali Bhabhi doesn't even know me, (Lekin Anjali Bhabhi toh mujhe jaanti hi nahi,)" she replied. "I've never met her. I hate family functions. I always find a pretext to escape... like today, (Main unse kabhi nahi mili. Mujhe family functions se nafrat hai. Main bahar jaane ka bahana hamesha dhoondti hoon... aaj ki tarah.)"
"Really? Why so? (Sachchi? Kyun?)" Sameer asked, intrigued.
"Because it's boring, (Kyunki yeh boring hai,)" she admitted bluntly. "Family with no fun. You know, I was even absent most of the time at my own wedding reception, (Bina maze waale parivaar. Tumhe pata hai, main apni apni wedding reception mein bhi zyada waqt absent rahi.)"
Harsh glanced back at her, a naughty look in his eyes. "Give him the real reason, Didi. That was suppose to be your most special day! (Use asli wajah batao, Didi. Woh tumhara sabse khaas din hona tha!)"
Sonakshi looked down, a shy smile on her face. "And I messed that day because of you, idiot cousin brother. I was most of the time in my bedroom, the bathroom, the toilet... giving that idiot a mouth-hug. His little soldier was getting so sad for me, marrying a man by force before my belly started to show our child. I had to console his poor thing. It was weeping inside me so much that day. When time came for my real honeymoon, my little peach was so sore I had to make a pretext for my stupid husband to just end with his baby-like foreplay, as if I was some novice, and then we went to bed… (Aur mainne us din tumhaare wajah se bigada, bewakoof cousin brother. Main zyada waqt apne bedroom mein, bathroom mein, toilet mein... us idiot ko mouth-hug de rahi thi. Uska little soldier mujhe itna udaas ho raha tha, ek aadmi se jabardasti shaadi kar rahi thi jab tak mera pet humare bacche ko dikhane nahi lagta tha. Mujhe uski cheez ko shanti deni thi. Woh din itna ro raha tha mere andar. Jab asli honeymoon ka waqa aaya, toh meri chhori itni dard ho gayi thi ki mujhe apne bewakoof pati se baby jaise foreplay ke saath khatam karne ka bahana banana pada, jaise ki main koi novice hoon, aur phir hum so gaye…)"
Harsh cut in, "Anyway, Sonakshi, we're here! It's better you stay in the car. Even if Bhabhi or her kids don't know you, my mom knows her niece pretty well. Instead of a beer party, you'll have to taste her homemade food and sleep with her until your husband arrives, (Waise bhi, Sonakshi, hum aa gaye hain! Yeh behtar hai ki tum gaadi mein raho. Agar Bhabhi ya uske bacche tumhe nahi jaante, toh meri maa apni niece ko khoob achhi tarah jaanti hai. Beer party ki jagah, tumhe uske ghar ka bana khana khana hoga aur uske saath soogi jab tak tumhara pati nahi aata.)"
"Yeah... your mom is so caring... I miss her, (Haan... tumhari maa itni caring hai... mujhe unki yaad aati hai,)" Sonakshi said softly. "I wonder if Anjali is also like her… (Mujhe sochta hai ki Anjali bhi unki jaisi hai...)"
"Wrong, (Galat,)" Harsh said flatly. "She’s more like the climate. Sometimes good, sometimes bad... at times, she's a cyclone and a tsunami, (Woh mausam jaisi hai. Kabhi acchi, kabhi bura... kabhi-kabhi, woh cyclone aur tsunami hoti hai.)"
As Sameer pulled the car to a stop a few distance away, Harsh turned in his seat. He reached back and, with a swift, teasing motion, stared at her robe's V-neck, almost open to show just her bra. He saw her widely spread legs, even over the dress, the gap between them a silent invitation.
Harsh, with predatory smile, dragged his hand toward her, placed it over her left leg before lifting the edge of Sonakshi's dress, which was resting over her knees. He revealed her smooth, creamy thighs slowly, giving her no time to react as he lifted it further up, giving a flash of bright orange fabric over her slim thighs which certainly got much weight after her pregnancy. She knew he saw it. The wetness had made the thin cotton panty cling to her entrance, forming a distinct, pouting middle line.
"And what's this? (Aur yeh kya hai?)" he grinned. "Is that your juice that has you so wet already, or did you oil it up in anticipation? (Yeh tumhara juice hai jo tumhe itni geela kar diya hai, ya tumne anticipation mein oil laga liya tha?)"
Sonakshi squealed, swatting his hand away, her face flushed with a mix of embarrassment and desire. "Shut up, you’re making me blush! (Chup karo, tum mujhe sharma rahe ho!)" she whispered harshly, a shy smile betraying her true feelings, shooing him away with a playful wave of her hand.
"Damn, you two are something else, supposedly brother and sister, (Arre, tum log kuch aur hi ho, so-called bhai aur behen,)" Sameer muttered, shaking his head in disbelief, a wide grin on his face. Yet, he quickly adjusted his shirt to cover the growing boner straining against his jeans.
Sonakshi noticed his fumbling and teased him, "Aww, is the good boy pretending to be innocent now, aren't you, Sameer neighbor? (Aww, kya accha ladka ab naqaab ban raha hai, naai, Sameer padosan?)"
Harsh and Sameer got out of the car with just a teasing smile as a reply to her. As Harsh walked towards his house, the smile faded from his face, replaced by the familiar weight of his home life.
***
He pushed open the door and hinted to Sameer to wait at the door as he went upstairs. Though he moved in front of her, she didn’t notice. The day had already been a slow bleed of hope for Anjali, Harsh’s Bhabhi. The afternoon light, once bright and full of promise, had bled into a dullness, casting long, somber shadows across the floor.
Anjali was a slump of despair on the sofa. She wasn't crying anymore. The tears had dried hours ago, leaving behind a gritty, hollow feeling. Her hands were curled around the edge of the cushion, her head rested heavily on the cool leather of the armrest, and her cheek turned to the silent floor.
The rare skirt and blouse she wore felt like a cruel joke. The cheerful yellow of the blouse now seemed garish under the dim light, and the smooth fabric of the skirt, elevating her buttock curves, which she had imagined would be caressed by her husband's hands, now felt rough and suffocating against her skin. This was the fourth time this month. A promise, a text message full of empty apologies, and then... nothing. Just the deafening silence of the house.
The only sound was the monotonous tick-tock of the wall clock, each tick a hammer blow against her fragile nerves before being interrupted by the noisy step of Harsh moving down the stairs, shattering the thick silence of the house. She didn’t lift her head, but her body tensed.
And then he saw her.
"Wow, Bhabhi! Look at you! (Waah, Bhabhi! Dekho tumhe!)" Harsh's voice, far too cheerful for the gloom of the room, echoed off the walls. "A skirt and blouse? That's a surprise, (Skirt aur blouse? Yeh toh shock hai.)"
Anjali’s head snapped up. For a fleeting second, a ghost of a smile touched her lips, a reflex to the unexpected compliment. But it vanished as quickly as it came, replaced by the familiar, bitter shield of her misery. He saw her modern dress, not as an effort for her husband, but as a spectacle for him to comment on.
He stepped inside the living room, followed by a hesitant Sameer, who awkwardly scanned the dimly lit room. Harsh’s eyes, however, were fixed on her. He handed Sameer a thousand-rupee note with a quick, discreet movement, his friend nodding in understanding before lingering by the door.
Harsh moved toward her, a playful smirk on his face. "You should dress like that more often, Bhabhi, you look...nice, (Tumhe aise hi zyada pehenna chahiye, Bhabhi, tum lagti ho...acchi.)" He trailed off, his eyes scanning her appreciatively.
Anjali just sighed, a sound heavy with resignation. "It doesn't matter, Harsh. It's pointless, (Koi faraq nahi padta, Harsh. Yeh bekar hai.)"
"No, it's not, (Nahi, yeh faraq padta hai,)" he insisted, taking another step closer. He wanted to say something to lift her spirits, to see that smile again. "Seriously, Bhabhi, if my brother saw you right now, he'd... (Sach mein, Bhabhi, agar mera bhai tumhe abhi dekhta, toh woh...)"
But he never finished his sentence. He was completely oblivious to the storm clouds gathering in her expression. He took another step, his foot coming down on an unseen patch of oil spilled on the floor.
There was a loss of balance, and he fell hard, his trajectory sending him crashing to the ground right in front of her.
His head landed below her knees in a position that gave him a sudden, shocking, and completely accidental glimpse directly up her skirt.
The world seemed to stop. For a split second, his brain registered the sight, the accidental intimacy of enjoying the view of the soft, light chocolate expanse of her inner thighs. They were fuller than Sonakshi's but rounded and inviting, the skin a smooth, fair brown. The light fabric of her skirt was bunched around them, thighs slightly opened, and he saw the flash of her delicate pink cotton panties, a simple, innocent contrast to the light brownish skin of her legs. The fabric was taut against her, hinting at the soft, juicy flesh beneath, a sight so private, so unexpected, it stole his breath. For a moment, he forgot where he was and who he was. There was only the sight, the forbidden glimpse of his Bhabhi's most secret place.
But Anjali, her mind poisoned by loneliness and the neighbor wife's idle gossip that Harsh was a "pervert," saw only a calculating violation. The toxic seed planted by whispers had finally bloomed. She saw not an accident, but a deliberate, humiliating act. Before he could even register the fall or stammer an explanation, she was on her feet, her face a mask of fury and betrayal.
"How dare you! (Hai tumhari himmat!)" she shrieked, her voice cracking with rage and humiliation. "You pervert! You did that on purpose! (Tum pervert! Tumne jaan boojhke yeh kiya!)"
Before he could even process the accusation, she slapped him across the face with all the force of her shattered pride. The sound echoed in the silent room, sharp and brutal. The sting on his cheek was nothing compared to the hot flush of humiliation that burned his skin.
Sameer, stunned by the sudden violence, rushed to his friend's side, pulling the dazed and humiliated Harsh after seeing his anger taking shape. "Come on, man, let's go, (Aao yaar, chalo,)" he said urgently, his eyes wide with shock. He could see the clenching of Harsh's fist, the raw rage simmering just beneath the surface.
Harsh allowed himself to be pulled up, his eyes never leaving Anjali's. They were no longer teasing or confused. They were filled with a cold, hard promise of retribution. He didn't say a word as Sameer led him towards the door, leaving Anjali standing alone, trembling with rage.
***
"What's wrong, baby? Did Mommy scold you? (Kya baat hai, baby? Kya Mommy ne tumhe daanta?)” Sonakshi leaned forward again, her playful mood replaced with a genuine concern that was laced with a hint of teasing. Her voice was a soft purr, a contrast to the tension now filling the car. “What happened? What took so long? (Kya hua? itni der kyun lagi?)"
"Nothing serious, (Koi baat nahi,)" Sameer said quickly, trying to de-escalate the situation he felt brewing. "Just a little family drama, (Bas thoda sa family drama.)"
But Harsh wasn't buying it. His voice was low and cold, laced with a venomous hatred that made the air in the car feel thick and heavy. "That bitch, (Woh kutiya,)" he snarled, the word a dirty bullet in the quiet car. "That slut Bhabhi of mine... she'll pay for this, (Woh randi Bhabhi... iski yeh saza milegi.)"
"Harsh, what happened, tell me, (Harsh, kya hua, batao,)" Sonakshi asked curiously.
“Forget about that, it's nothing serious, Sonakshi Bhabhi. Please Harsh, don’t spoil Sonakshi’s party, (Iske baare mein bhool jao, yeh koi serious baat nahi, Sonakshi Bhabhi. Please Harsh, Sonakshi ki party mat kharab karo,)” Sameer chimed in to calm him.
He turned his burning gaze to Sonakshi, his anger seeking a target, a release. His hand reached back, his movements sharp and deliberate, and roughly lifted her skirt, revealing the bright orange panties. The fabric was shining in the dim light, a promise of what was to come, a dark, wet spot already blooming at the center, like a secret flower. She was eating her fingers out of shyness but didn't try to stop him. But rather, her shy smile quickly changed to a teasing one.
"Sameer, wait, (Sameer, ruk,)" Harsh commanded, his eyes never leaving Sonakshi's. His voice was a low growl, a clear order that left no room for argument. Sameer glanced at him, saw the dangerous glint in his eyes, and instinctively pressed on the brake, the car coming to a smooth stop.
As soon as the car stopped, Harsh threw his door open, got out, and yanked open the rear door, sliding in beside her. The space was cramped, intimate, and charged with his fury.
The sudden movement made Sonakshi gasp, a mix of surprise and excitement. But, seeing his face, a fear started to make her heart beating louder, what's in his dirty mind...
(To be completed...)
This first story is a little taboo, so please read the small disclaimer below.
(Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and is intended for mature audiences only. The story contains themes of incest, which are not to be confused with or encouraged in real life.)
On top of it all, this is the first time I've ever tried to write from a boy's perspective. I've based it on what I've read and what I've imagined, but I'm really not sure if I got it right.
So, this is where I need your help. I'm putting myself out there, and I'd be so grateful for your honest thoughts. Was it just plain boring? Do you see any potential for me to improve, or do you think I should just stop writing altogether?
Every bit of feedback means the world to me as I try to navigate this new passion.
Thank you so much for reading.
Your Nihalika
Chapter 1 - Incestuous Secret
"Look what you've done to my doudou, Devar-ji, (Dekho kya kar diya aapne mere doudou ka, Devar-ji)," Anjali moaned as Harsh's mouth latched on his Bhabhi's left boob, his tongue swirling around the firm, pebbled rock nipple, enjoying the hot milk taste down his throat. His eyes flipped to her right in surprise and saw it. Two perfect, high-pressure white rivers of milk were now flowing freely from two tiny duct orifices of her dark brown, swollen nipples, while other weaker drops were glistening down her king-size areolas to land drop by drop over her pregnant belly like a broken tap before finally soaking into the silk of her yellow cotton panty within her blue saree. "Naughty Devar-ji, I told you to just drink, not suck or lick, (Naughty Devar-ji, maine kaha tha bas peelo, chooso ya chatto nahi)," she panted. "Don't play with it now, let it flow... you got me so excited, (Ab isse khelo nahi, rehne do ise flow hone... mujh itna excite kar diya)."
"Well, well, looks like the doudou-milk party already started, Bahu, (Arre arre, lagta hai doudou-milk party shuru ho gayi, Bahu)," a teasing, mature voice called out. It was Sumitra, Harsh's mother. She was passing by, wearing an old, thin red blouse. Her large cotton panty was over her saree and petticoat, all lying on the floor at the entrance door. As she passed them, Harsh couldn't help but admire his mommy's two large, old, saggy ass bums, which were deformed globes, and as she walked, the flesh didn't bounce; it swayed and jiggled with a confident, almost defiant sway. The cheeks flattened at the bottom, spreading wide where they met the tops of her thick thighs. “Who would have thought, (Kaun soch sakta tha),” she mused, looking at them, “months ago, this boy only knew the taste of beer and whiskey, (mahine pehle, is ladke ko beer aur whiskey ke swaad ke alawa kuch nahi maloom tha).”
But she had come for another reason. In front of her, the tall guy, Sameer, was fucking the full length of his dick inside his Bhabhi Sonakshi, whose moaning was not less than a cry of death. Sonakshi was Sumitra’s little niece and Harsh’s cousin sister. There was no room for pity as Sameer was enjoying her vulnerable short, slim, and weak body by spreading her legs wide and snatching her two ponytails as his balls would clash against her red, sore, and wide-open asshole. Despite her pain, Sonakshi was staring at her Devar, Sameer, who lived next to her house, with a knowing smirk on her face, just provoking him to ponder deeper and fiercer.
He fucked her with deep, punishing thrusts, each one making her body jolt despite her moaning of 'su-su... su-su." As he felt her anus tighten around him, he withdrew suddenly. Sonakshi's body convulsed, and a powerful, involuntary squirt erupted from her pee-pee hole, a long, clear stream that made her entire body tremble. He viewed the rim of his neighbor Bhabhi's asshole, and understood the pain she would be enduring the days to come.
"Arre, meri randi Sonakshi Bhabhi! That's very dirty. You peed su-su all over me? Are you just a little girl? Look at your sister, Harsh! She’s pissing like a fountain! Such a naughty, pregnant slut, (Arre, meri randi Bhabhi! "Ye bahut gandi baat hui. Tumne su-su mere upar hi kar diya? Kya tum bilkul chhoti lalki ho?" apni behen ko, Harsh! Woh fountain ki tarah peshab kar rahi hai! Kitni naughty, pregnant slut!)" Sameer growled, his voice thick with lust.
"Don't look, Sameer Devar-ji... I know I'm peeing like a bitch! (Mat dekho, Devar-ji... main jaanti hoon main kutiya ki tarah peshab kar rahi hoon!)," she whimpered into the fabric. Sonakshi hid her face in the pillow, mortified. “Just fuck me more! (Bas aur chodo mujhe!)”
Before Sameer could respond, Sonakshi, with a wicked grin, threw the pillow, her own hand flew down, slapping against her drenched, swollen pussy lips with wet smacks that mingled with the hiss of her flowing pee-pee.
Just then, the princess appeared at the door. "Chachu Harsh! Sameer Bhaiya!" It was little Ishani, their little favorite. "Leave my pregnant mama and Sona aunty alone! And stop staring at my Dadi's ass! (Meri pregnant mama aur Sona aunty ko akela chhodo! Aur meri Dadi ke gand dekhna band karo!)" she charged, her voice shockingly firm. "If you're so manly, then do it to me, your little doll! (Agar itne mard ho, toh mere saath karo, apni choti doll ke saath!)"
Before anyone could react, she lifted her small dress, pulled down her pink panty, and threw it directly at her young Chachu Harsh's face. Then, she stood there, her small hand revealing her naked pussy, plunged two fingers deep within her tight vagina wall and declared, "Here's the real fun, a tight and tender juicy chut... come and get it if you dare! (Yeh lo asli maza, ek tight aur tender juicy chut... agar himmat hai to aao aur lo!)”
Sonakshi's giggle was the same as it had been in the store when he was buying sanitary pads, a sound that consistently marked Sameer’s humiliation, a pattern started months ago. Sameer was just a young shying neighbor boy who peeped through a window. But now, he was on his knees, ready and inches to taste his Bhabhi's pee-pee, a direct result of the confidence his Bhabhi had given him after the car journey. Was it his luck to be the bestfriend of Harsh or being the neighbor of his sister Sonakshi...
Either way... she was sure that even Sameer would never forget that little car journey, where all this had started...
A few months earlier…
"Come on, Harsh! You're not making any effort to arrange money. At least for some beers, (Arre Harsh! Tum paise arrange karne mein kuch effort nahi kar rahe. Kam az kam beer ke liye toh kar lo,)" Sonakshi, who was reclined in the back passenger seat, leaned forward, a smirk playing on her lips provocatively. "I know why. It's because you’re just craving for my milk instead, isn’t it, rascal? (Mujhe pata hai kyu. Yeh ki tum bas mere dudh ke liye tarap rahe ho, naai, shaitaan?)"
The car hummed with a lazy afternoon heat, the city blurring past the windows.
The driver, Sameer, a broad boy from a middle-class family, chuckled, glancing at Harsh, a lanky and spoiled guy who was sitting beside him and then back at Sonakshi through the rearview mirror. Knowing Harsh's eyes were closed, his eyes lingered on the ample cleavage spilling from Sonakshi's white floral button-down dress. What is wrong with me? She's my neighbor. Manoj Bhaiya's wife, my Bhabhi.
She caught his stare, yet made no move to fix the two top undone buttons that did little to hide the shadowed entrance of her boobies. She knew he was trying hard to get a deeper sight of her prominent, firm breasts. Who wouldn’t glance at a young mother’s tits, especially if they were full of milk, she thought.
Instead of being coy, she slowly moved her hand, stroking her mangalsutra. The gold and black beads slid down, disappearing into the warm valley between her large, well-developed boobs. The way she was rubbing her wedding necklace along her cleavage was enough to give any man a clear idea of what she wanted him to rub in-between them.
Sameer quickly looks away. He grips the steering wheel, closes his eyes for a brief second, and mouths a silent, desperate wish formed in his mind, a plea to himself. Oh great, now my face is a red tomato. Sonakshi Bhabhi must probably seen me closing my eyes while she was giving me that teasing show. Just die, Sameer. Just die right now or just be cool like Harsh.
He took a shaky breath and forced his eyes open. Then, he lifted them to the rearview to look at her again. He saw her profile, her lips slightly parted, not angry, not annoyed, just... with a cute smile. A new, reckless thought, born of pure desperation, surged through him. Look at her, she's not angry, she's just waiting. That tease was for you! So, be nice and just reply to what she just show. Be a man. Give her a dirty comment, Sameer! Just do like Harsh used to do. This is what naughty guys do, and all ladies secretly love that. Just speak, Sameer! Just speak!
"Well, Sonakshi Bhabhi," Sameer said, his voice coming out a little thick, like he had a mouthful of cotton. He tried to tear his eyes away from her chest, "it’s not his fault for ignoring beer when… it feels like he gets drunk just from the idea of going to drink your milk... and... (Yeh beer ki wajah se nahi hai ki… lagta hai woh sirf aapke dudh peene ke khayal se hi ho jaata hai drunk... aur...)"
What... What did I just say? Milk? Bhabhi will think I'm a total cheap. He panicked inside, his heart doing a frantic drum solo against his ribs. His eyes, like two nervous little mice, darted from the road to her reflection in the mirror. But then he saw it, a flicker of movement in the rearview mirror. Her lips. They were curled into a small, knowing smile. It wasn't a smile of anger; it was a smile of... power. And that smile gave him a shot of pure, liquid courage.
"And what? Tell me, Sameer Devar-ji, (Aur kya? Batao, Sameer,)" as she requested him to complete his sentence, a teasing smile playing on her juicy red lips. He knew the word 'Devar-ji' in itself was a tease for all his Bhabhi called him just 'Sameer' and the 'ji' made her tease too obvious.
With a renew gut, his eyes was now searching for a glimpse of her areolas, which he knew must be visible since she was wearing a tight, undersized bra under her dress. He knew the small ones were never enough to cover her extra-large areolas, and he was certain she'd already caught him stealing a few flashes since the journey began. "And... and probably about... some well-garnished, surely abundant juice, Bhabhi-ji. (Aur... aur shayad... kuch well-garnished, pakka abundant juice ke baare mein, Bhabhi-ji)" he finished, his gaze pointedly dropping towards her thighs.
Sonakshi, though shy at the directness of Harsh's best friend, felt a thrill of power for his newly born boldness. She turns her head slightly, and her eyes lock with his in the mirror. He freezes, wide-eyed, like a deer in headlights. His foot even slips off the accelerator for a second, causing the car to lurch, making her giving him a teasing smile.
"At least Harsh was clear with his intention and bold enough to ask for it openly, (Kam se kam Harsh apne niyat mein clear tha aur itna bold tha ki woh khule taur pe maangne mein himmat karta tha,)" she added teasingly, her voice a low purr. Her hand left her mangalsutra to shift to the middle of her right breast, her finger slowly circling the peak of her nipple over the thin fabric of her dress, as if putting on a show just for him. "Unlike certain next-door neighbors who just glance at others' wives through the small window in the bathroom while they're bathing or giving their son a bath, (Kuch padosiyon ke ulat, jo sirf doosre ki patniyo ko bathroom ki choti khidki se niharte hain jab woh naha rahi hoti hai ya apne bethe ko naha rahi hoti hai.)"
Sameer suddenly cough while thumping his own chest. “I wasn’t there for that. It was just pure coincidence, Bhabhi-ji, (Main wahan isliye nahi tha. Yeh bas ek pura coincidence tha, Bhabhi-ji,)" Sameer chimed in unconvincingly.
Harsh’s eyes remained closed, a picture of feigned sleep, but a slight smirk played on his lips. He knew exactly what Sameer used to do. He lit a cigarette on the back stairs of his house whenever she was in the bathroom. She always pulled the curtain once she saw him, not because she was aware of his dirty intentions but because she was disappointed by his lack of manhood to be as bold as Harsh.
Sonakshi’s voice sharpened, losing its playful edge. "Harsh! Wake up. Will you arrange the money or not? Because I'm telling you, there'll be no tasting of my juice or my milk today. And my husband is out of town, so this is your only chance, (Harsh! Jag jao. Tum paise arrange karoge ya nahi? Kyunki main tumhe bilaakar rahi hoon, aaj mere juice ya mere dudh ka koi swaad nahi milega. Aur mera pati bahar gaya hai, toh yeh tumhari ek hi mauka hai.)"
"Hey, don't break a sweet lady's great hope of a party, (Arre, ek meethi aurat ki party ki ummeed mat todho,)" Sameer chimed in, nudging his friend's shoulder. "Her husband is out after eight months. Think of her suffering, (Uska pati 8 mahine ke baad bahar gaya hai. Uski takleef socho.)"
Harsh's eyes cracked open. "And since when did you start taking such good notes of your pretty neighbor's schedule, Sameer? (Aur tum kabse apni khubsurat padosan ke schedule ke itne acche notes le rahe ho, Sameer?)" he teased, his voice laced with amusement.
Sameer felt her shift and knew he's been looking for too long. Panic set in. He felt his face flush with embarrassment. "I... I just heard her mother-in-law mention it from my house. She’s my neighbor, (Main... main ne bas apne ghar se uski saas yeh baat suni. Woh meri padosan hai.)"
Sonakshi scoffed, sitting back and crossing her arms under her breasts, pushing them up even further. "You were right, Sameer. Marriage sucks. Harsh here just got me pregnant, and he is a… a boy I can love but can never marry. To hide my pregnancy, I had to have this arranged marriage… so quickly with a stupid man… And now the fool doesn't even have money for a simple beer, (Tum sahi keh rahe the, Sameer. Shaadi bakwaas hai. Yeh Harsh ne mujhe pregnant kar diya, aur woh ek… aisa ladka hai jise main pyar kar sakti hoon lekin shaadi nahi kar sakti. Mera pregnancy chupane ke liye mujhe yeh arrange marriage karna pada… itni jaldi ek bewakoof aadmi se… aur ab woh ullu ko ek simple beer ke liye bhi paise nahi hain.)"
Sameer's jaw went slack. His eyes darted from Sonakshi to Harsh and back again. "What? Your son is his son? Meaning you both… You both are… oh no, it’s… it’s… (Kya? Tumhara beta uska beta hai? Matlab tum dono… tum dono ho… oh nahi, yeh… yeh…)" He was so shocked he couldn't even complete a simple sentence.
Harsh's smirk widened. "You want to say that we're cousin brother and sister? Yeah, we are! I’m her dad's brother's son! (Tum kehna chahte ho ki hum cousin brother aur sister hain? Haan, hain! Main uske papa ke bhai ka beta hoon!)"
Sameer just stared, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. "But… but… that's… wow, (Lekin… lekin… yeh… wow.)"
Sonakshi leaned forward again, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper as she looked at Sameer. "What's the matter, Sameer neighbor-ji ? Cat got your tongue? Or are you just wishing you were a cousin brother too? Don’t worry, I’m your next-door Bhabhi-ji! (Kya baat hai, padosan Sameer? Billi ne tumhari zabaan pakad li? Ya tum bas yeh soch rahe ho ki kaash tum bhi cousin brother hote? Chinta mat karo, main tumhari next-door Bhabhi hoon!)" She then turned her fiery gaze back to Harsh. "And you! You get me pregnant because of that you get me married off to an idiot. I had to leave school to conceive your child and now you can't even get me a beer for a party! Useless Bhaiya! (Aur tum! Tumne mujhe pregnant kiya aur is wajah se mujhe ek idiot se shaadi karwa di. Apne bacche ko paida karne ke liye mujhe school chhodna pada aur ab tum mujhe ek party ke liye beer bhi nahi dilwa sakte! Bewakoof Bhaiya!)"
Harsh finally stirred, sitting up straight. He looked from Sameer's stunned face to Sonakshi's frustrated one, a slow, lazy grin spreading across his face. "Okay, okay! Suppose we’re going to have a party, but where? No money… no hotel… But whose house? And I can't bring you to a bar, Sonakshi. Your husband will kill me. That stupid has parents at home, am I right, Sameer? And I have my Bhabhi, my brother, her two kids, my mom... oh, it's too much trouble. What about your place... where's your kid, Sonakshi? ("Theek hai, theek hai! Maan lete hain ki hume party karni hai, lekin kahan? Paise nahi… hotel nahi… lekin kaun ghar? Aur main tumhe ek bar mein nahi le ja sakta, Sonakshi. Tumhara pati mujhe maar dega. Uske paas ghar par maa-baap hain, sahi hai na, Sameer? Aur meri Bhabhi hai, mera bhai, uske do bacche, meri maa... arre, bahut zyada pareshani hai. Tumhara ghar kaisa rahega... tumhara baccha kahan hai, Sonakshi?)"
She leaned forward and pinched his shoulder, a playful pout on her lips. "Not my kid, (Mera baccha nahi,)" she corrected him, her voice softening. "He's our sweet little baby. He's with my husband. He took him to his mother's place for the day. But my place? You’re my brother, that’s okay, but what about him, Bhaiya? (Woh hamara pyara sa chhota baccha hai. Woh mera pati ke saath hai. Usne use apni maa ke ghar le gaya hai din ke liye. Lekin mera ghar? Tum mere cousin brother ho, theek hai, lekin uska kya?)" She gestured towards Sameer. "Sameer lives next door to me! What will people say? (Sameer mere bagal mein rehta hai! Log kya kahenge?)"
Harsh glanced at Sameer's pouting face as he looked at the road silently and drove. "Just a little party between you and me, (Bas tum aur mere beech thodi si party,)" he said, his voice low and reassuring. "He'll go back to his place, (Woh apni jagah wapas jaayega.)"
Sonakshi knew Harsh was teasing. A mischievous glint appeared in her eyes as she slowly pulled the side of her white dress down, revealing more of her creamy shoulder and the strap of her orange bra.
"That’s rude, Harsh Bhaiya! I was hoping Sameer could join us. But you're right, it's probably safer this way, isn't it, Sameer? ("Yeh rude hai, Harsh! Main ummeed kar rahi thi ki Sameer bhi hamare saath aayega. Lekin tum sahi keh rahe ho, yeh tarah zyada safe hai, naai, Sameer?)" She purred, her eyes meeting Sameer's in the rearview mirror. "Besides, I heard a party between brother and sister must be more... private and intimate. We can listen to music and... talk. I even have a new king-sized bed that's perfect for... lounging around, watching some special movie and why not... trying some of the acts. We wouldn't want you to get the wrong idea or be traumatized when you hear the noises, my dear neighbor-ji, ("Waise, maine suna hai ki bhai aur behen ki party zyada... private aur hoti hai. Hum music sune aur... baat karein. Mere paas ek naya king-size bed bhi hai jo... aaraam karne ke liye behtar hai, koi special movie dekhne ke liye aur kyun nahi... kuch acts try karne ke liye. Hum nahi chahte ki tumhe galat fehmi ho ya tum traumatize ho jab tum awaazein sunoge, mere pyare padosan.)" She then added, a sly smile playing on her lips while catching Sameer’s stares from the rearview, "Anyway, Harsh, is this mirror for looking at the vehicles behind or the passengers sitting behind? ("Waise, Harsh, yeh mirror peeche wali gaadiyon ke liye hai ya piche baithe huye passengers ke liye?)"
Both Harsh and Sonakshi laughed. "Let that poor boy stare. At least he's having some guts, (Usse dekhne do kamzor ladke ko. Kam az kam usme himmat toh aa rahi hai.)" Harsh said, his voice firm but playful. “Come on, Sameer! I was joking, you're invited, (Aao, Sameer! Main mazaak kar raha tha, tumko bulaya hai.)"
"But what about his parents? (Lekin uske maa-baap kya?)" Sonakshi chimed in, her voice laced with feigned concern. "They'll question him for being at his neighbor’s house when her husband is away, especially his mom, (Woh usse puchenge ki woh apni padosan ke ghar kyun hai jab uska pati bahar gaya hai, khaaskar uski maa.)"
"Don't worry about that, (Uske baare mein chinta mat karo,)" Harsh said, waving his hand dismissively. "I can come to my sister's place whenever I want. No one can question me, not even your stupid husband. And he’s my best friend. We'll just pretend that I told him to come and watch a movie… and for returning back, it would be late at night, when everyone is sleeping, ("Main apni behen ke ghar kabhi bhi aa sakta hoon. Mujhe koi sawaal nahi kar sakta, tumhare bewakoof pati ko bhi nahi. Aur woh mera best friend hai. Hum bas yeh dikhaayenge ki maine use movie dekhne ke liye kaha tha... aur wapas aane ke liye, raat ko der tak hoga, jab sab so rahe honge.)" He then turned his attention back to Sonakshi, a hungry look in his eyes. "I'll arrange for the drinks, but what about food? What are we having, vegetables? (Main drinks ka intzaam karunga, lekin khana kya hai, sabzi?)"
Sonakshi's lips curved into a wicked smile. "That's my problem, (Yeh mera problem hai,)" she said, her voice a low, seductive murmur. "Maybe some young, tender chicken legs and breast. (Shayad kuch young, tender chicken legs aur breast.)" She then turned to Sameer, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Have you ever tasted that, neighbor Sameer? (Kabhi try kiya hai, padosan Sameer?)"
Sameer shook his head slowly, a look of mock disappointment on his face. "No, (Nahi,)" he said, his voice a low rumble. Come on, Sameer, say something. Something that don't make you a boring guy or a party spoiler, he thought. Be a cool boy, impress her! Then, a slow, predatory grin spread across his face. "Chicken legs are okay, I guess. And the breast... I like the breast too. (Chicken legs theek hai, mujhe lagta hai. Aur breast... mujhe breast bhi pasand hai.)" He paused, his eyes in the rearview mirror zeroing in, as if trying to bury his face in the deep, shadowed valley of her cleavage. He imagined the soft, warm skin at the very entrance of her boobs, the way it would feel against his tongue. "But, (Lekin,)" he continued, his voice dropping to a husky whisper, "I think I'd prefer... cow, Bhabhi-ji, ("main prefer karta hoon... cow, Bhabhi-ji.)"
Sonakshi's cheeks flushed, but she didn't back down. She leaned forward, giving him an even better view. "Well, Sameer Devar-ji, (Theek hai, Sameer, Devar-ji)" she said, her voice a sultry, breathless challenge, "if you're a very, very good boy and do exactly as you're told... maybe you'll get a taste of the whole farm, (agar tum bahut hi acche ladke ho aur jo main kehti hoon woh exactly karte ho... shayad tumhe poore farm ka swaad milega.)"
Harsh laughed, teasing Sonakshi. "A 'good boy'? Come on, Sonakshi, we're all the same age. I don't understand that 'ji' 'ji', Devar-ji, neighbor-ji, Bhabh-ji... is that the new trend? If you weren't a school dropout to get married, we would have been in the same class... or maybe on a farmhouse by now. (Ek 'good boy'? Aao, Sonakshi, hum sab ki umar barabar hai. Agar tum shaadi karne ke liye school chhodti nahi hoti, toh hum ek hi class mein hote... ya shayad aaj tak kisi farmhouse par.)"
Sameer’s grin faded, replaced by a look of genuine awe and intrigue. He was clearly impressed by her audacity. "Damn, a farm, (Arre, ek farm,)" he said, his voice filled with a new respect. "You're really something else, Bhabhi-ji. I was just wondering... what kind of lie did you have to spin to get a whole day to yourself, away from your husband and child? (Tum sach mein kuch alag ho, Bhabhi-ji. Main bas yeh soch raha tha... tumne kis tarh ki jhooth ka patta baaya tha apne aap ko poora din ke liye free rakhne ke liye, apne pati aur bacche se door?)"
"When your well is overflowing, a hundred or a thousand lies flow easily, neighbor-ji (Jab tumhara kuan se bhar jaata hai, toh sau ya hazaar jhooth aasani se nikalte hain,)" Sonakshi retorted, her eyes landing back on Harsh. "But how unfortunate I am! I called two stupid fools like you for a party, and you don't even have money for beer, (Lekin main kitni bhagyashali hoon! Maine party ke liye tumhare jaise do bewakoofon ko bulaya, aur tumhe ek beer ke liye bhi paise nahi hain.)"
Harsh glanced at her, his mind clicking into gear. "Sameer, take the next left. I'll go home and get the money, (Sameer, agla left le. Main ghar jaakar paise le aata hoon.)" He turned to look at Sonakshi, who was sitting behind them. "And you, (Aur tum,)" he said, his voice dropping to a commanding whisper, "don't you get down from the car. My Bhabhi will have a hundred questions. Why is she with you? What's the money for? Just wait in the car. I'll get the money and come back, (gaadi se neeche mat utarna. Meri Bhabhi sau sawaal poochegi. Woh tumhare saath kyun hai? Paise kya ke liye hain? Bas gaadi mein intzaar karo. Main paise le kar aata hoon)"
"But Anjali Bhabhi doesn't even know me, (Lekin Anjali Bhabhi toh mujhe jaanti hi nahi,)" she replied. "I've never met her. I hate family functions. I always find a pretext to escape... like today, (Main unse kabhi nahi mili. Mujhe family functions se nafrat hai. Main bahar jaane ka bahana hamesha dhoondti hoon... aaj ki tarah.)"
"Really? Why so? (Sachchi? Kyun?)" Sameer asked, intrigued.
"Because it's boring, (Kyunki yeh boring hai,)" she admitted bluntly. "Family with no fun. You know, I was even absent most of the time at my own wedding reception, (Bina maze waale parivaar. Tumhe pata hai, main apni apni wedding reception mein bhi zyada waqt absent rahi.)"
Harsh glanced back at her, a naughty look in his eyes. "Give him the real reason, Didi. That was suppose to be your most special day! (Use asli wajah batao, Didi. Woh tumhara sabse khaas din hona tha!)"
Sonakshi looked down, a shy smile on her face. "And I messed that day because of you, idiot cousin brother. I was most of the time in my bedroom, the bathroom, the toilet... giving that idiot a mouth-hug. His little soldier was getting so sad for me, marrying a man by force before my belly started to show our child. I had to console his poor thing. It was weeping inside me so much that day. When time came for my real honeymoon, my little peach was so sore I had to make a pretext for my stupid husband to just end with his baby-like foreplay, as if I was some novice, and then we went to bed… (Aur mainne us din tumhaare wajah se bigada, bewakoof cousin brother. Main zyada waqt apne bedroom mein, bathroom mein, toilet mein... us idiot ko mouth-hug de rahi thi. Uska little soldier mujhe itna udaas ho raha tha, ek aadmi se jabardasti shaadi kar rahi thi jab tak mera pet humare bacche ko dikhane nahi lagta tha. Mujhe uski cheez ko shanti deni thi. Woh din itna ro raha tha mere andar. Jab asli honeymoon ka waqa aaya, toh meri chhori itni dard ho gayi thi ki mujhe apne bewakoof pati se baby jaise foreplay ke saath khatam karne ka bahana banana pada, jaise ki main koi novice hoon, aur phir hum so gaye…)"
Harsh cut in, "Anyway, Sonakshi, we're here! It's better you stay in the car. Even if Bhabhi or her kids don't know you, my mom knows her niece pretty well. Instead of a beer party, you'll have to taste her homemade food and sleep with her until your husband arrives, (Waise bhi, Sonakshi, hum aa gaye hain! Yeh behtar hai ki tum gaadi mein raho. Agar Bhabhi ya uske bacche tumhe nahi jaante, toh meri maa apni niece ko khoob achhi tarah jaanti hai. Beer party ki jagah, tumhe uske ghar ka bana khana khana hoga aur uske saath soogi jab tak tumhara pati nahi aata.)"
"Yeah... your mom is so caring... I miss her, (Haan... tumhari maa itni caring hai... mujhe unki yaad aati hai,)" Sonakshi said softly. "I wonder if Anjali is also like her… (Mujhe sochta hai ki Anjali bhi unki jaisi hai...)"
"Wrong, (Galat,)" Harsh said flatly. "She’s more like the climate. Sometimes good, sometimes bad... at times, she's a cyclone and a tsunami, (Woh mausam jaisi hai. Kabhi acchi, kabhi bura... kabhi-kabhi, woh cyclone aur tsunami hoti hai.)"
As Sameer pulled the car to a stop a few distance away, Harsh turned in his seat. He reached back and, with a swift, teasing motion, stared at her robe's V-neck, almost open to show just her bra. He saw her widely spread legs, even over the dress, the gap between them a silent invitation.
Harsh, with predatory smile, dragged his hand toward her, placed it over her left leg before lifting the edge of Sonakshi's dress, which was resting over her knees. He revealed her smooth, creamy thighs slowly, giving her no time to react as he lifted it further up, giving a flash of bright orange fabric over her slim thighs which certainly got much weight after her pregnancy. She knew he saw it. The wetness had made the thin cotton panty cling to her entrance, forming a distinct, pouting middle line.
"And what's this? (Aur yeh kya hai?)" he grinned. "Is that your juice that has you so wet already, or did you oil it up in anticipation? (Yeh tumhara juice hai jo tumhe itni geela kar diya hai, ya tumne anticipation mein oil laga liya tha?)"
Sonakshi squealed, swatting his hand away, her face flushed with a mix of embarrassment and desire. "Shut up, you’re making me blush! (Chup karo, tum mujhe sharma rahe ho!)" she whispered harshly, a shy smile betraying her true feelings, shooing him away with a playful wave of her hand.
"Damn, you two are something else, supposedly brother and sister, (Arre, tum log kuch aur hi ho, so-called bhai aur behen,)" Sameer muttered, shaking his head in disbelief, a wide grin on his face. Yet, he quickly adjusted his shirt to cover the growing boner straining against his jeans.
Sonakshi noticed his fumbling and teased him, "Aww, is the good boy pretending to be innocent now, aren't you, Sameer neighbor? (Aww, kya accha ladka ab naqaab ban raha hai, naai, Sameer padosan?)"
Harsh and Sameer got out of the car with just a teasing smile as a reply to her. As Harsh walked towards his house, the smile faded from his face, replaced by the familiar weight of his home life.
***
He pushed open the door and hinted to Sameer to wait at the door as he went upstairs. Though he moved in front of her, she didn’t notice. The day had already been a slow bleed of hope for Anjali, Harsh’s Bhabhi. The afternoon light, once bright and full of promise, had bled into a dullness, casting long, somber shadows across the floor.
Anjali was a slump of despair on the sofa. She wasn't crying anymore. The tears had dried hours ago, leaving behind a gritty, hollow feeling. Her hands were curled around the edge of the cushion, her head rested heavily on the cool leather of the armrest, and her cheek turned to the silent floor.
The rare skirt and blouse she wore felt like a cruel joke. The cheerful yellow of the blouse now seemed garish under the dim light, and the smooth fabric of the skirt, elevating her buttock curves, which she had imagined would be caressed by her husband's hands, now felt rough and suffocating against her skin. This was the fourth time this month. A promise, a text message full of empty apologies, and then... nothing. Just the deafening silence of the house.
The only sound was the monotonous tick-tock of the wall clock, each tick a hammer blow against her fragile nerves before being interrupted by the noisy step of Harsh moving down the stairs, shattering the thick silence of the house. She didn’t lift her head, but her body tensed.
And then he saw her.
"Wow, Bhabhi! Look at you! (Waah, Bhabhi! Dekho tumhe!)" Harsh's voice, far too cheerful for the gloom of the room, echoed off the walls. "A skirt and blouse? That's a surprise, (Skirt aur blouse? Yeh toh shock hai.)"
Anjali’s head snapped up. For a fleeting second, a ghost of a smile touched her lips, a reflex to the unexpected compliment. But it vanished as quickly as it came, replaced by the familiar, bitter shield of her misery. He saw her modern dress, not as an effort for her husband, but as a spectacle for him to comment on.
He stepped inside the living room, followed by a hesitant Sameer, who awkwardly scanned the dimly lit room. Harsh’s eyes, however, were fixed on her. He handed Sameer a thousand-rupee note with a quick, discreet movement, his friend nodding in understanding before lingering by the door.
Harsh moved toward her, a playful smirk on his face. "You should dress like that more often, Bhabhi, you look...nice, (Tumhe aise hi zyada pehenna chahiye, Bhabhi, tum lagti ho...acchi.)" He trailed off, his eyes scanning her appreciatively.
Anjali just sighed, a sound heavy with resignation. "It doesn't matter, Harsh. It's pointless, (Koi faraq nahi padta, Harsh. Yeh bekar hai.)"
"No, it's not, (Nahi, yeh faraq padta hai,)" he insisted, taking another step closer. He wanted to say something to lift her spirits, to see that smile again. "Seriously, Bhabhi, if my brother saw you right now, he'd... (Sach mein, Bhabhi, agar mera bhai tumhe abhi dekhta, toh woh...)"
But he never finished his sentence. He was completely oblivious to the storm clouds gathering in her expression. He took another step, his foot coming down on an unseen patch of oil spilled on the floor.
There was a loss of balance, and he fell hard, his trajectory sending him crashing to the ground right in front of her.
His head landed below her knees in a position that gave him a sudden, shocking, and completely accidental glimpse directly up her skirt.
The world seemed to stop. For a split second, his brain registered the sight, the accidental intimacy of enjoying the view of the soft, light chocolate expanse of her inner thighs. They were fuller than Sonakshi's but rounded and inviting, the skin a smooth, fair brown. The light fabric of her skirt was bunched around them, thighs slightly opened, and he saw the flash of her delicate pink cotton panties, a simple, innocent contrast to the light brownish skin of her legs. The fabric was taut against her, hinting at the soft, juicy flesh beneath, a sight so private, so unexpected, it stole his breath. For a moment, he forgot where he was and who he was. There was only the sight, the forbidden glimpse of his Bhabhi's most secret place.
But Anjali, her mind poisoned by loneliness and the neighbor wife's idle gossip that Harsh was a "pervert," saw only a calculating violation. The toxic seed planted by whispers had finally bloomed. She saw not an accident, but a deliberate, humiliating act. Before he could even register the fall or stammer an explanation, she was on her feet, her face a mask of fury and betrayal.
"How dare you! (Hai tumhari himmat!)" she shrieked, her voice cracking with rage and humiliation. "You pervert! You did that on purpose! (Tum pervert! Tumne jaan boojhke yeh kiya!)"
Before he could even process the accusation, she slapped him across the face with all the force of her shattered pride. The sound echoed in the silent room, sharp and brutal. The sting on his cheek was nothing compared to the hot flush of humiliation that burned his skin.
Sameer, stunned by the sudden violence, rushed to his friend's side, pulling the dazed and humiliated Harsh after seeing his anger taking shape. "Come on, man, let's go, (Aao yaar, chalo,)" he said urgently, his eyes wide with shock. He could see the clenching of Harsh's fist, the raw rage simmering just beneath the surface.
Harsh allowed himself to be pulled up, his eyes never leaving Anjali's. They were no longer teasing or confused. They were filled with a cold, hard promise of retribution. He didn't say a word as Sameer led him towards the door, leaving Anjali standing alone, trembling with rage.
***
"What's wrong, baby? Did Mommy scold you? (Kya baat hai, baby? Kya Mommy ne tumhe daanta?)” Sonakshi leaned forward again, her playful mood replaced with a genuine concern that was laced with a hint of teasing. Her voice was a soft purr, a contrast to the tension now filling the car. “What happened? What took so long? (Kya hua? itni der kyun lagi?)"
"Nothing serious, (Koi baat nahi,)" Sameer said quickly, trying to de-escalate the situation he felt brewing. "Just a little family drama, (Bas thoda sa family drama.)"
But Harsh wasn't buying it. His voice was low and cold, laced with a venomous hatred that made the air in the car feel thick and heavy. "That bitch, (Woh kutiya,)" he snarled, the word a dirty bullet in the quiet car. "That slut Bhabhi of mine... she'll pay for this, (Woh randi Bhabhi... iski yeh saza milegi.)"
"Harsh, what happened, tell me, (Harsh, kya hua, batao,)" Sonakshi asked curiously.
“Forget about that, it's nothing serious, Sonakshi Bhabhi. Please Harsh, don’t spoil Sonakshi’s party, (Iske baare mein bhool jao, yeh koi serious baat nahi, Sonakshi Bhabhi. Please Harsh, Sonakshi ki party mat kharab karo,)” Sameer chimed in to calm him.
He turned his burning gaze to Sonakshi, his anger seeking a target, a release. His hand reached back, his movements sharp and deliberate, and roughly lifted her skirt, revealing the bright orange panties. The fabric was shining in the dim light, a promise of what was to come, a dark, wet spot already blooming at the center, like a secret flower. She was eating her fingers out of shyness but didn't try to stop him. But rather, her shy smile quickly changed to a teasing one.
"Sameer, wait, (Sameer, ruk,)" Harsh commanded, his eyes never leaving Sonakshi's. His voice was a low growl, a clear order that left no room for argument. Sameer glanced at him, saw the dangerous glint in his eyes, and instinctively pressed on the brake, the car coming to a smooth stop.
As soon as the car stopped, Harsh threw his door open, got out, and yanked open the rear door, sliding in beside her. The space was cramped, intimate, and charged with his fury.
The sudden movement made Sonakshi gasp, a mix of surprise and excitement. But, seeing his face, a fear started to make her heart beating louder, what's in his dirty mind...
(To be completed...)
Last edited:
