Life of Indian Housewife at In-Laws Ch. 02

He watched Sonam finish feeding and then patted Varun on his back for a customary burp.

Soon, she was getting ready for the night, changing into her usual nightwear. As she parted with every item of her apparel, each moment only helped to excite the middle aged man. In the final stage, she had unhooked her bra and finally slid her panties down her legs and stood out of it. For a moment, she was stark naked.

The patriarch would have loved to walk in and hold that soft, delicate body of his bahu. God! Oh god! How well she has been endowed with, he thought. But quickly as she became naked, just as quickly she had put on her nightie. To Balwant, by wearing that apparel she wasn't fully naked but, oh heavens, she was no less enticing, no less desirable and each contour of her body seemed well defined underneath.

Lying on bed, Sonam appeared restless, unsure of what to do next. With her husband fast asleep and her son fed and quietly sleeping, she just fiddled with her fingers before Balwant saw her getting up and start combing her lustrous hair. Soon, Balwant could see her walking into the bathroom that adjoined the two bedrooms. It was here that the patriarch had conjured something else as well. An inconspicuous tiny gap had been deliberately created into one of the wooden panels. To some one unaware, it would always escape notice. He rushed towards it now, careful not to make a sound.

He had hardly placed his eyes at the opening when he heard a hissing sound, that of water gushing out from a fissure. In the silence of the night, the sound was unmistakable. Peeing ..was she ...? His heart thumped much too fast. Oh god! Help me, he thought. Let me look away, let me respect her privacy! He turned, resolved to walk away.

But the sound become louder, as she emptied her bladder in full force. He paused, fervently trying again to resist the temptation. But his lust and passion had taken a stranglehold on his senses. He shook his head, surrendering to what was unthinkable of a father-in-law, and placed his eyes over the opening in the door as stealthily as he could.

He gaped at the amazing view before him. At a short distance, his lovely bahu was perched on the toilet. Her nightie was rolled up to her waist, her smooth thighs were wide open, and her shapely legs and dainty feet rested on her toes. Each nail on her feet were brightly polished a crimson red and Balwant was almost delirious in an overwhelming need to kiss each of them.

Because of his height and the vantage point he could gleefully witness the stream of pee jetting its way into the pot, emanating a variety of sounds. She had a full bladder, for it took time till it slowed down and went into a dribble. The sound seemed to mesmerize Balwant, until she stood up. Her sculpted thighs had possibly added a couple of inches in childbearing but, to Balwant, these couldn't be shapelier. Her butt curves were clearly visible, now that she stood up, and the patriarch gaped open mouth at the shape and the crack that parted the curves.

Somewhere hid her bud, the tempting third hole, the one that women are reluctant to yield. In a fleeting second, Balwant imagined ravaging that one too, a craving that had jumped notches now that he had seen it! He looked down at the dhoti that he was wearing. He was making a mess of it, drenched as it was in the unstoppable pre-cum of his robust organ. Quickly, he placed his eyes back where they were. He had to quench the thirst of his lust filled eyes.

As she cleaned herself, she turned around facing the door. The patriarch was breathing heavily, even risking that she may guess something amiss and look up. But his lust did not permit him to leave. He stayed put. His cock now harder than before, throbbing underneath his dhoti and wanting, as he saw her darkened triangle.

The dark, curly, public hair were rich and perhaps a little trimmed, Balwant guessed. His eyes pierced through, aching to see more, but she turned away after cleaning herself and left the bathroom after flushing the toilet. But, for a while, Balwant's hands continued to stroke his hardness, and seeing his own organ he was reminded of his heydays. It was after a long, long time that he was aroused so much, and he was inwardly praising his bahu to have brought back what he was so proud of at one time. He was a 'mard' (a virile man) and he was proud of it.

Waiting for a few moments, he was back at his previous lookout, almost like a predator who had identified his prey and didn't want to let her out of her sight. He was peering into the main bedroom again.

In one moment, he could guess that his loving bahu was restless. There was no doubt in his mind and he was curious to find out more. He stayed put with his hands on his firm phallus, which he continued to stroke vigorously.

The night was to become a revelation, almost hallucinatory to an extent, to the patriarch. His eyes remained glued on his daughter-in-law, as she lay on her bed, alone and lost in thought. She just squirmed on the white linen bed-sheet for a few moments before she had pulled up her nightie up to the waist and began tapping her fingers over her vulva before playing at the yawning crevice that lay in between.

In a flash she had inserted a finger inside the vagina, softly playing on it at first before the finger moved faster and faster, inserting and withdrawing in quick succession. Suddenly, she stopped but the finger remained inside. Inserting another finger, she was moaning and squirming, throwing her legs about and Balwant guessed that she could be pushing and squeezing her clit with the inserted fingers.

He peeked in awe and lust as he watched her restless movements with her eyes closed. She raised her pelvis, possibly imagining her lover and meeting his cock. He heard her moan and cry out unintelligible and incoherent words. Maybe she was calling out her lover, thought Balwant.

He stroked hard, feeling the pressure build within his groin. His balls strained inside the scrotum, the cock ever so sensitive at its widest and the longest.

She was thrashing her body left and right, words becoming so guttural and incessant in her rants that Balwant could hardly make out any meaning or name. She heaved herself up and down, here and there on the bed. But whatever she did, her finger remained embedded and anchored. Her face contorted as she went over the cliff in her desire and passion. Oh god! She was in so much heat and yet she would have to spend so many months without her husband, Balwant kept pondering.

At one moment, Sonam had withdrawn her wet fingers, staring intently at them for a moment before taking it in her mouth to taste her own sex. Quickly, she inserted her finger back inside her gaping and hungry vagina.

Balwant was a witness to all her actions, following her deep arousal intently, while pumping hard on his own robust organ, pushing his pelvis forward and backward till, suddenly, he shot out his jism with a guttural moan. "Bahuuuu". His voice trailed even in silence, as he ejaculated time after time, hitting all his goo into the door panel in front. He continued pumping to release the last drop until he was spent, and the pleasure of his orgasm seeped through his body and soul.

Even in his wildest imagination he hadn't thought that women would frig themselves as men did.

He watched his bahu put her own hand over her mouth after her orgasm, realizing that she was calling someone aloud at the height of her arousal. Not moving, she appeared rested and in peace. Her eyes closed, she slowly covered herself with her blanket and slowly drifted into peaceful sleep. Balwant, drained but still not exhausted, stayed on till he was sure that Sonam was asleep. He turned and went back to his bed. In moments, he had crashed into bed and, within a few minutes, he was fast asleep.

Balwant rolled over early at five in the morning the next day, as he always did. The dhoti was in disarray. He felt the familiar morning tugs of his hard-on. Lying on his side, his engorged monster of an organ lay nestled within his thighs. He recollected the events of the previous night, the scenes quickly unfolding once again in his memory. Instantly, he felt a surge of blood flowing through the veins of his phallus, enlarging it somewhat.

He remained in the bed, not willing to get out of the cover of the warm blanket that covered him. Sonam was wrecking his perverted mind and he simply couldn't get her off her head. Oh! How she had played with herself in bed, and even how she had relieved her bladder in the toilet! The very thought sent the blood rushing in again. Like a teenage boy he had his shaft in his hand again, rubbing the hardness himself.

The next day moved at a hectic pace. It was the last day the couple would spend together, and Balwant didn't object to their having lunch outside or spending some moments outside the busy household.

That night the patriarch was not feeling well. Having remained in just his light dhoti in the bitter cold of north India the previous night, albeit inside his bedroom, he had a slight fever. He resisted the temptation to take up his post at the door and watch his bahu copulate with her husband. Besides, he was certain that the couple would avail of this last opportunity before departure and knew too well that the outcome would be similar.

His son would fail once again and leave his wife to cry. Balwant knew he would get numerous opportunities later, of this he was certain. Months, in fact, to satiate his lascivious mind and savour the beauty of this irresistible woman.

Balwant came down much later the following morning. He felt much better after a good night's sleep and some ayurvedic medicines that he had taken when he started feeling ill the previous day.

To his surprise, even though Sonam continued to be shy, she was trying to come out of her shell. Her earlier hesitations seemed to have lessened and she talked much freely now when they were together. Sometimes she would be seeking his approval, sometimes she would demurely reply to questions that he posed, even smiling with those pearly white teeth.

Nihal left that evening for the airport and journey abroad. Like all departures, the parting was painful. Sonam was full of tears but, to the patriarch, even that made her look beautiful. She was unable to stay at the gate even for a moment after Nihal left, almost running inside with Varun, as soon as the car accelerated. Anjali hurried to pacify her, wanting to share some of her loneliness.

Balwant also felt sad at his son's departure. He felt sad for his bahu too but, in all fairness, it was because she would feel lonely and not for any other reason. Dinner didn't take much time but Nihal's empty chair made his absence look harsher and gloomy. Frankly, it brought about a lump even in the impassive patriarch. He stayed in the living room for some time after dinner, allowing the household to pass into silence with everyone retiring to their respective rooms. He got up in the end as he himself felt like like retiring for the night. Walking to his room, he decided to check with his daughter-in-law before turning in.

"Bahu?" He knocked on the partition door that separated the two rooms.

There was pause and then he heard shuffling feet before the door opened. Her eyes moist and lowered. She was wearing a nightie, but she had pulled on a 'dupatta' (a sort of stole) across her top to cover her chest.

"Babuji...," her voice couldn't hide her sorrow.

"Bahu, are you okay?" His voice laden with concern.

"Yes Babuji..." Her words trailed on, as if she wanted to say something.

"Tell me. Do not be shy," Balwant waited.

"Babuji... Varun"

Balwant was concerned. "Is he alright?"

Her eyes looked up and met Balwant's. "Yes. Yes. He is fine. He is with Matasari, just like you said."

"So...?" He knew that his grandson would be with the maid.

Her face showed anguish of a mother without his offspring.

"I am feeling...alone.. and ahh..lonely," she sniffled a sob,"I miss my son and want to hold him in my arms."

At that point it struck Balwant that he should not have asked the maid to keep the child with her for the night. The infant should have remained in her room with his mother. How could he take such a heartless decision? He looked at her face. The intensity of her anguish was unmistakable.

He watched a teardrop that was about to trickle down her cheek. Lifting a finger, Balwant wiped the nascent tear from his bahu's face. He raised both hands and held her face.

"You should never hesitate to ask about anything, Bahu," he consoled her, "Your babuji is always here. Remember that."

Balwant Singh ran a hand over Sonam's head, consoling her, comforting her. He drew himself nearer, held her for some time with an arm around her as he tried to absorb her sorrow with empathy and feeling. She made no effort to move away but stayed still, except for her sobs. In a while, Balwant saw that she had almost stopped weeping. She was now taking deep breaths which Balwant thought were because of her weeping heart. Balwant too breathed heavily, before he moved away from her.

"Babuji...," she whispered, as if reminding the man to act on the decision to bring back the child to her.

"Yes. Yes. I will take care. You take care of yourself, Bahu," he assured her.

Turning briskly, he called out to Matasari and bellowed instructions.

"Bring Varun back to Bahu's room. I want him to be with her in the night ... all nights, do you hear me?" he instructed, "If she ever needs your help she will ask for it. Now hurry up."

"Yes, Malik (Master)!" She said obediently.

Matasari bowed and hurried back to her room and picked up Varun. Holding Varun in her arms she dashed back till she came and knocked at Sonam bedroom. She saw the patriarch standing like a sentry in front of her door, wanting to see for himself that his command had been complied with.

"Oh! My baby, my baby," cried Sonam as she got Varun back in her arms. Even a separation of few minutes was too much for her. She had raised her eyes and saw her father-in-law at the door. Her eyes met with Balwant's and she was overcome with a sense of gratitude and happiness. There was a faint smile on her lips and Balwant just nodded his head.

"Thank you babuji. I will sleep better tonight," Sonam said after Matasari walked out of her room.

"Very good bahu. You take care of my grandson. Keep him well fed."

"Yes Babuji." She was warming up to her father-in-law.

"And please remember, I do not want you to feel lonely. This is your home and you should never think otherwise. Nihal may have left, but we are all here. I am here." He was caring just as much as he was forceful in his words.

"Yes Babuji," whispered Sonam.

He drew closer to mother and son and ran his fingers over his grandson's head, and then whispered almost in an undertone, "Anytime... anything...you need..." he paused," you will knock on that door." He motioned to the partition door inside her bedroom that separated their respective rooms.

She was silent for a moment, trying to absorb the import of what he had whispered. A lump formed in her throat as she was almost inaudible "Yes, Babuji".

She looked at him for a moment, looking into each other's eyes, before she brought her face down, overcome with shyness.

"Live well, live long, Bahu," he blessed her, before he turned and walked out of the room.

Sonam

Having finished her dinner Sonam returned to her room with a heavy heart. Tears welled up in her eyes as thoughts of her husband came to mind when she retired to her room. She breast-fed her baby and, kissing the infant, she was about to place him on the bed when Matasari, the maid, arrived. Exchanging a few words, she secured the child in her arms and walked out of the room. The loneliness of the young bahu was complete.

With neither her husband nor her child. She regretted having agreed to allow her baby to sleep with Matasari at night and wondered how she would pass so many nights alone in the big bedroom. And to make it worse, she could never sleep alone!

She shook her head and then got up from her bed. No use crying now, she felt and prepared to go to sleep. Changing into her nightie, she sat on the bed combing her hair. Just then, she heard a faint knock on the partition door. Since this came from her father-in-law's room, she didn't feel scared, knowing it was her caring and respected Babuji himself. She got up and hurriedly placed a dupatta across her bosom and quickly walked across to open the door. To be honest, normally, in this nightie she would have worn her housecoat on top in front of anyone other than her husband.

Strangely, she only placed her dupatta for her father-in-law. Was it because she didn't want to keep her respected father-in-law waiting or did she think him to be just as close and dear? She really didn't have an answer. Sonam opened the door and then respectfully stood aside, allowing the towering man to step in.

Sonam only looked at the floor as she respectfully whispered, 'Babuji'. She was the obedient bahu, enquiring of her father-in-law if he required anything, or if she had any task to do. But there was a hidden sadness when she addressed her father.

"Babuji, I am feeling...so sad... and ahh...alone ...and ah ..ah.. lonely," she sniffled a sob, "I miss my son and want to hold my little baby in my arms."

Her father in law was immediately sympathetic. She began weeping, bursting into tears that trickled down her cheeks. The patriarch was moved when Sonam cried in this manner and stood in front of her. Holding her face in both hands, he lifted Sonam's face and looked into her tearful eyes.

Initially, Sonam felt a bit uneasy. This was so very romantic, one which happened more among lovers than in the relationship she had with this man. He wiped a tear and almost breathed into her face. Sonam could inhale the nice smell of the betal leaf that the patriarch usually chewed after dinner. Her eyes almost closed.

The towering man's words of concern were so comforting to Sonam. Once he got to know the reasons for her sorrow he had immediately barked an order, sufficiently aloud, for the maid to bring back the infant baby to the bahu's room.

The moment Sonam heard him calling out for the maid she quickly picked up the housecoat lying on the bed and wore it over the nightie. What would Matasari think of her? A bahu in this flimsy dress in front of her father-in-law? Sonam was surprised at her own behaviour - she was ashamed to be dressed in the nightie in front of Matasari, a woman, while she did not appear to be at all ashamed standing in front of the head of the head of the family, the patriarch! She had only placed the light dupatta to cover her breasts!

The maid brought the baby and, seeing the master, she quickly left after handing over the child to Sonam. The young mother was relieved and happy and crazily hugged her baby, cuddling and kissing him, in a show of unending affection in front of her father-in-law.

"Thank you Babuji," she said at last, grateful to the man who had made that possible. The more she saw the man, the more Sonam warmed up to him.

She could feel an undercurrent of belonging to this haveli, this family and particularly, this man. He was no longer that distant, aloof and imposing father-in-law anymore. He didn't have that serious face all the time. Rather, he only advised her to take good care of the child and see that he was fed timely. He even told Sonam not to feel lonely and to consider the haveli as her true home. So caring of him, Sonam thought.

Before leaving the room, Balwant came and stood in front of Sonam and her child. He patted his grandson on the head, ruffling the sparse hair that it had on his infant head, twitching the tiny cheeks. He was very happy and proud, of this Sonam was sure. Then, just before leaving the bedroom, he turned and looked at Sonam. What he said made Sonam think over again and again. The words were so mysterious and yet so meaningful, thought Sonam.