Indian Wife Longs for Motherhood Ch. 01

But Chachaji didn't give me a chance to decline. He addressed the maid.

"Malati, attend to your malik(master). I have some important things to tell bahu while I am on my way out," he said in a tone of finality before turning to me, "come Bahu, I am in a hurry."

On the way down, he seized the opportunity once again to run his hands over me. The stairs, being at one end of the floor, gave him the privacy that he sought. With each step, the intensity of the gripping hand on my ass increased. Fear of getting caught lurked in my mind. I could think of no other feelings.

At the door, he turned and looked around. Quickly, he held my cheeks in both hands and pressed his lips on mine. I pushed back in horror. He let go.

"Don't you dare deprive me of these touches when we go on that pilgrimage! And don't you dare keep my text messages unanswered. Or else ..." he said threateningly. He pushed the door open and left.

________/\/\/\/\_______

I remained apprehensive after Chachaji had left. I worried that any moment I would get to hear the notification sound of an incoming message from this man. If Prakash, my husband, were around when that happened, he would certainly want to know, "Whose is it?"

Or even, if I was not near, pick it up innocently to check.

I took the wiser course. I switched off the notification sounds on my mobile. If Prakash enquired, I would just tell that it was such an irritant at night to hear these sounds that usually woke him up.

I didn't have to wait long. Even before Prakash was back from office, and as I sat beside my very ill FIL, there was a message.

"Bahu, you are unforgettable. Hmm. Did you like it?"

I knew I had to answer. Or else!!

What do you reply to a question like that? Yes ... or ... No? Either of them would get me into trouble. I decided on 'yes'. At least, it would keep this man quiet for now. Or would it?

Prakash returned home in an hour. I was left undisturbed by Chachaji and informed him about my FIL's decision. He seemed a bit surprised that I had agreed to go on this pilgrimage with Chachaji who was after all, not a relative. But he accepted that there was no other choice in the face of my FIL's illness and Prakash's own busy schedule which wouldn't allow any holiday right then.

Just when I had begun to relax, a message came through. In silence. Prakash, fortunately, didn't notice. I went into the kitchen to read it in privacy.

"Flight tickets purchased. Booked a suite at the hotel. I am already hard. Excited?"

I responded quickly, typing out my one-word SMS fast... "Yes". It was not true, but I had little choice.

I waited in case he responded, afraid to walk out of the kitchen and to Prakash. He did respond.

"Just you wait, my sexy bahu. I'll buy the best lingerie for you. You're in for surprises."

Although I was shocked, I tried to keep calm. I had to stop the flow of incoming messages.

"Prakash is here. Stop now if you care for me."

Hoping for sanity in this man past middle age, I walked out of the kitchen.

As I came and sat beside Prakash my mobile started ringing, and one glance made it clear who it was from. Chachaji! I almost froze, fearing the worst. Should I answer? If I didn't, it would only raise suspicion in my husband.

"Hello," I answered, my voice almost shaking in apprehension.

"Bahu, is Prakash there?" Chachaji sounded like an innocently caring elder, "could you give the line to him?"

Somehow, I felt this call was not going to put me in danger. I handed over my mobile to Prakash.

Although surprised, Prakash started speaking and, from the conversation, I could make out that Chachaji was just making it the most natural thing to do.

I heard Prakash respond to whatever Chachaji might have said, "Yes Chachaji, Papa has informed me that you'll be accompanying Asha because he is ill and cannot accompany her."

Then, a bit later, I heard my husband saying, "I am not worried at all. You will be there, and I know you since long. You make the best arrangements and take the best care possible...eh ...what are you saying? ... yes, yes... you do whatever is best ... yes, I will be at office, so you may have to pick her up on the way to the airport."

They kept on talking for a while before I heard him say, "No. We are not going out now. I am too tired and shall just go and take some rest...yes, yes ...she is here." And then to me, "Here Asha, Chachaji wants to talk with you."

Prakash had finished his tiffin and walked out from the dining room, leaving me alone.

I silently said, "Yes Chachaji?"

"Is Prakash there still?"

"No, he has gone to the bedroom upstairs," I replied in whispers.

"See, even Prakash wants that I go with you. So, you have nothing to worry. What are your favorite colors?" Chachaji asked over the phone.

"Why," I asked in a tremulous voice.

"I want to take a few lingerie sets for you. That's why." I could hear him chuckle.

"You don't have to. I have them sufficiently," blushing I said, and wanting to end the conversation.

"Aww Bahu! But I want to. Lovely, sexy ones, just for you," he said mischievously, "come on, be a sport. Your bra sizes?"

Ashamed and uneasy, I kept quiet.

"Colors, bahu! And the size of your boobs. And hips." This time his voice was serious. I knew this was an order.

"If it is for lingerie, it could be white, pink, lavender, black, beige, and sometimes red," I said, blushing with each word and wanting the discussion to end. I was breathing heavily.

"Lovely. My favorite colors too. Sizes?" He had a single-minded intention of getting the information.

"34C ... 28 ... 36," I said, knowing fully that he would be asking my cup sizes.

"Wonderful! Just the right sizes," I could almost hear a devilish chuckle before he continued, "I leave the selection of sarees to you, Bahu, although you'll be needing a white one, preferably with a red border, when you visit the temple to offer prayers."

"Yes, I have just the right saree for visiting the temple," I said.

"Good. But about blouses, you do have sleeveless, don't you? Wear them, the ones which are most revealing, deep neckline, thin back ... you know the ones I am taking about. Bring them along," Chachaji said.

"I'll try," I said meekly.

"No trying, my dear. You must." He was adamant. I kept quiet.

"You heard me? Either you bring them along or you go about the town without any blouse at all. I think that would be easier for you?" He was as stern, as he was wicked.

"Yes, Chachaji," I surrendered.

"That's better," I heard him before he disconnected.

That night I was left undisturbed by Chachaji. There were no further messages, nor calls. Prakash kissed me a lot in bed, wanted to make love, which we did, and then he was fast asleep. I didn't blame him, for I knew how tired he usually was these days.

Yet, before he fell asleep, he murmured, "You know, Asha. In a way, I am relieved that instead of Papa going with you, it will be Chachaji. He is much younger than him and, therefore, far sturdier. Certainly, he isn't the nervous type."

I wished I could reveal that the man was not just sturdier but much bolder too. How wickedly adventurous!

The next day passed off uneventfully. I got just one message from Chachaji, which read, "Purchased lingerie. Will pick you up tomorrow at 8.00 AM sharp."

By evening, I had packed my requirements, complying with Chachaji's stipulation to the extent possible.

When Chachaji came the next morning, I was dressed and ready. Bidding goodbye to all, we headed towards the airport in the Uber taxi that he had hired. He waited for the car to go beyond the neighborhood before he tried to become intimate.

He shifted a bit, allowing his body to touch mine. An arm was quickly around my back, running a hand along my upper arm. With another hand he held my chin and turned my face. He cared little that the Uber driver was able to see us through the rear window.

"You are beautiful," he whispered, "Can't tell how much I had desired you."

I was uneasy and was trying to push away from him. The driver's attention was making me far too embarrassed.

He planted a small kiss.

"I have many plans," he said. I wished he would keep quiet for now. I indicated to him to remain silent, placing a finger on my lips. He understood, but it did not deter him from conveying what he wanted to say. Thankfully, he brought his lips near my ears for privacy.

"I'll be careful with the driver for now. But remember, thereafter, the moment we alight from this car, it would be different. There would be far more exposure in what we do. There'll be a lot of fun in our interaction with others. I'll call you 'bitiya'(daughter) and you'll call me 'papa'(daddy)."

I looked at him, not hiding my surprise. What exactly was this man wanting? Chachaji continued to whisper into my ears.

"For our flight, we are booked truthfully for identification purposes. But, thereafter, at the hotel and onwards we are booked as Mr. Vinod Reddy and Mrs. Asha Reddy, husband and wife. And yet, for the sheer fun of it, you'll be calling me 'papa'.

Imagine their shock! Father and daughter, and yet booked as husband and wife!" He chuckled loudly as he drew away his face from near my ears.

Oh god! What sort of fun was that? What sort of perversion?

"I don't know if there's any fun in what you are planning to do," I whispered tremulously.

"Ever heard of exhibitionism or voyeurism, Asha?" Chachaji looked straight at my face.

I was faintly aware of the words but what had that got to do with what he was wanting to do, I wondered. I remained quiet.

"You'll learn," Chachaji said, guessing my ignorance.

We had reached the airport and were soon checked in by showing our identity proof. No questions asked at the counter, two individuals with proper identity, intending to travel from one place to another. Even our security check was smooth and quickly over.

We waited in the lounge for the announcement to board the aircraft. As we sat beside one and another waiting, Chachaji dug into his cabin bag and took out a covered packet.

"Here, take this. Just go to the toilet. You'll get your instructions." Chachaji said. He looked dead serious, and I wondered what might have made him behave as such.

"Whatever for? I have no need now," I looked at him puzzled.

"Obey, Asha! For your own good," he said while he looked at me sternly.

I trotted off to the washroom.

Once inside the toilet and, in privacy, I opened the packet. I blushed the moment I looked at what was inside. It was an exquisite panty, all lacy, thin and soft. It was baby pink in color, and it was crotchless.

At that moment, it was beyond me to know why he wanted me to wear it now, just before our flight. Only later, while we were in flight, its purpose would become clear.

Anyway, as I stood looking at what I held in hand, I received an SMS on my mobile. It read as follows:

"Take off the one you are wearing right now. Keep it in your vanity bag. Wear the one I gave to you."

I knew I had no option and followed what he wanted.

I felt decidedly naked wearing the crotchless panty. I had never worn one before and there was uneasiness in my crotch. I kept the worn black one inside my bag and came out of the restroom. My face was flushed when I stood in front of Chachaji.

"Pink?" he asked simply.

Uneasy and flushed in the face, I still nodded in confirmation.

Not much later, boarding announcements were made, and we sauntered in through the airbridge to our seats.

One of the first things that Chachaji did was ask for blankets - one for each of us.

"Sometimes, it gets too cold inside the aircraft" he said, smiling both at the air hostess and me.

By the time the plane had taken off and the 'fasten seat belt' sign switched off, the blankets were spread widely over the two of us. I was becoming more and more apprehensive. I knew something was about to begin and my body was instinctively getting ready. Frankly, I was uneasy and scared.

Soon enough, I felt a hand slide along and up on to my thigh where it rested for a moment. Then a gentle squeeze. I was embarrassed beyond measure, little realizing that absolutely no one had any inkling of what was going on underneath the blanket.

As I looked out of the window, the hand on the thigh became restless. I felt it run a bit lower and starting to lift my saree and petticoat. Slowly, both these fabrics came up my legs together, till I could make out that the hem was resting on my thighs. The nakedness below occupied my mind. I just hoped the blanket would hold.

'Chachaji, please. Must you do this here? What if anyone guesses or the blanket falls off?" I whispered silently.

"Nothing will happen, just relax," he replied, not heeding to my worries.

His hand was insistent, greedy and hungry. Yet, outwardly he was calm. Enjoying himself with his eyes closed.

Soon, the hand had closed inches nearer to crotch, intending to move to the center of it. Bald as I was at that spot, that too at the insistence of my husband, I heard Chachaji exclaim softly, 'Wow! That's nice!'

I felt as if all eyes on board were on me. Possibly, their ears were eavesdropping into every word that we were uttering.

It seemed that even the airhostesses who walked along the aisle had their eyes particularly on the blanket spread across both of us.

"Everybody is looking, Chachaji. Aap bandh kyon nahin karte (why don't you stop)?" I squealed, not hiding my agitation.

"I want them to," he replied nonchalantly, "and you better feel the same way."

It's pointless, I thought, to tell anything to this man. He would do anything with the control that he had over me. It would be wiser to offer the least possible resistance to ensure at least a degree of secrecy. I decided to keep quiet.

The hand had moved over to my labia, sending an instant shiver over my body.

"I admire that Prakash chooses well. He had three options - bush, trim or bald. And he went for the one that is most appealing in a woman." Chachaji said, trying to keep his voice low but certainly not in whispers.

I could vouch that the gentleman in the front seat had turned his head and quickly glanced at the two of us through the gap within the seats. I was red in the face in embarrassment and shame.

How do I express my feelings when a finger traversed the mounds to come and rest on the entrance to what is a woman's very own? He rubbed his fingers over it, allowing it time to get used to foreign intrusion.

"So sweet!" His voice carried ecstasy. He seemed overjoyed while, at the same time, a tingling sensation sent spasms of excitement running at the spot. I braced myself for more. I knew these were bound to follow.

"Liking it, bitiya?" He asked.

I bit my lips. I wish I could say "No," but I kept quiet.

A thick finger nibbled at the gate, searching for responses from the owner. I squirmed in my seat. He understood.

The probing finger knew its purpose. It pushed in, almost in a hurry now when permission was indicated. It circled freely around the walls of my vagina, pushing and digging, yet not immediately touching my clit. Just around it again and again.

Oh god! I thought. He knows how to tease. Here I was, wanting the male finger on my clit oozing its fountain of excitement, and he just held himself back.

I squirmed more and moaned softly as my back arched into the backseat.

"Liking it, aren't you, bitiya?" He asked again.

Half in my senses now, I whispered, "Yes, Chachaji."

He smiled. In moments, he had raised the intervening armrest between us. We were at the end of the craft and there were only two seats in our row.

Chachaji buzzed for the airhostess who soon trotted up to us.

"Yes Sir?" The airhostess enquired.

"The lady is not feeling too well. A pillow might help." He explained. Although surprised at this explanation, I kept quiet.

She was back in moments to hand over two pillows and went away. Chachaji shifted in his seat to push back to the edge, leaving a wider space between us. He placed the two pillows towards the window beside my seat.

"Bitiya, lie down. And raise your legs on the seat. Try and get some sleep, you'll feel better." I heard him telling.

Such deceit! I looked at him dumbfounded.

He behaved in the most natural manner. Caringly, he held my arms and, turning me around, made me lie down in the best way I could. But the space being little, I could just manage to raise my folded legs on to the seat. My back rested on the pillows stashed at the end of the seat.

Chachaji rearranged the blankets again, ensuring that these covered me fully from the neck downwards, right over me and my folded legs, and then over his laps.

I watched the man. The extent of tricks and ploys that he was taking to get some moments of pleasure on the flight was truly amazing.

Satisfied at his own ingenious arrangements, he seemed relaxed as he closed his eyes. I went on watching. By now, I was curious to know what he planned to pull out from his 'bag of tricks.'

A finger soon began tickling my feet, around the toes, circling on the ankles and then suddenly opening his eyes and looking at me.

"Why don't you wear 'paayals' (anklets) around these pretty ankles? They look so nice on girls, bitiya and musical too. I must get a pair for you soon." He said softly.

The exasperating pair of eyes from the front seat once again turned back, possibly having heard his words. I don't know if Chachaji had observed this, but he was least bothered.

I soon realized that the finger was gently advancing up along my legs. The saree and petticoat were no more a hindrance, now that I had been 'positioned' advantageously by him. Up the leg, over the knee, then down again along the thighs.

It stopped inches away from my vagina. He must have noticed the wetness around. Looking at me, he just brought his tongue, running it over his thick lips before jutting it out a bit and holding it by his teeth. In a few fleeting seconds, he just swayed it up and down. Anyone seeing him would feel he was just moistening his dried lips. I knew otherwise. It was dirty indication of what he wanted to do with his tongue.

It was clear now why Chachaji had gifted a 'crotchless' panty and insisted on wearing it before we boarded the flight.

He placed his finger on the vagina, naked as it was now, teasing it more, and extracting further moistness from an already excited clit. The finger now became aggressive. Pushing in, it ran berserk. Luckily, we were covered with the blankets and no one could really witness this brazen display of sexual activity.

It went on for almost five minutes. But it was enough to take me to a high degree of arousal and need. I stifled my moans, covering my lips with the edge of the blanket.

My eyes closed. I surrendered.

When the finger stopped touching my body, I opened my eyes. My eyes questioned his sudden withdrawal, almost pleading for him to continue.

He saw that expression in my eyes. He had his plans. I knew it, for there was considerable movement in his arms underneath the blanket. Possibly, he was taking out something from within some pocket.

I didn't have to wait to know what that 'something' was. There was the touch of a foreign body that was different from human flesh. Chachaji rubbed it along the lips of my vagina for a while till he slowly pushed it inside. The wetness made the insertion smooth and easy.

I guessed what it was, although I had never owned nor used one before. A vibrator, and possibly remote controlled.

With the toy snug and settled inside my wet pussy, his hands moved away.

He bent a little, his face nearer mine.

"You'll feel better now, I can assure you," he said softly.

Instantly, I felt the initial movement of the toy, whining softly inside my 'cunt'. God! It felt good. Soon, he must have increased the speed. It vibrated faster, and the more it did the more restless I became. I pressed my hands on my crotch and, in deeper arousal, my raised knees swayed left and right.