Life of Indian Housewife at In-Laws Ch. 08

She returned Balwant's demands with an aggression that surprised the man himself.

"I'll take Radha even before Krishna is able to enjoy a dance with her tomorrow," he laughed aloud, "make her sit naked on my lap and squeeze her tits. How will that be, eh?"

"You are the mythological Kangsa, the tyrant. I'll punish you with all that I have," Sonam said aggressively.

"And what do you have excepting three holes, my darling Radha?" Balwant taunted.

"Three holes, yes. But they are enough to drown you in," the young housewife continued her aggression. So unthinkable of her, Balwant wondered.

She straddled the patriarch that night, riding his cock as an expert rider would, holding the man's mat of hair in her hands like the reins of a horse as she hunched on his chest like a jockey. She sat and jumped alternatively, with Balwant's penis deeply embedded in her vagina, allowing it to hit the walls and clit inside her wet hole. She settled into a nice rhythm in a short while, her wetness making the shaft run easily inside her. She moaned endlessly, then broke into squeals and whimpers and in the end, she screamed like a woman possessed.

"Fuck me! Fuck me hard," she almost howled, pushing herself up and down on the lengthy shaft rapidly, the moistness within her own 'choot' in arousal making it easy for smooth movement.

Not to be undone, Balwant raised his own buttocks, thrusting himself vigorously into the woman sitting on him. He held her breasts, squeezing them hard, wanting to tear them off her chest and marking them red with scars. Not easing his grip on her breasts, he pulled her down on to him, taking in her lips within his and sucked them hard. In no time, the lips were swollen and bruised. It did not bother either of them, in their moments of such arousal, that these marks would be clearly visible the next day, not just to the family but to the people in the neighbourhood, when the festival would be held.

"You are the sexiest woman that I have ever known, the most sensual, erotic and desirable. You should be treated to the most intense fucking imaginable for your pleasure and complete satisfaction. Isn't that true?" Balwant asked.

"Yes, and you are the one who I crave for, the one who makes me reach unimaginable ecstasy, Babuji. Please do not deprive me of that heavenly pleasure," Sonam was moaning.

It was a sleepless and long night for Balwant and Sonam. So also, it was for Abheer, who tossed and turned in bed thinking about his ravishing Bhabhi.

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The next evening, there was quite a gathering in the vacant area leading to the mansion belonging to Balwant Singh and his family. Named 'Amrit Nivas' which meant 'abode of nectar', it was built by Balwant's grandfather, perhaps optimistically hoping for a home akin to heaven. Since then, the mansion was substantially renovated and extended by Balwant himself.

For the day's celebration, many had turned up. Most had come from the neighbourhood and a village nearby, and even relatives living not too far away. Guests were splendidly dressed in rich and colourful clothes and, quite a few couples who attended, were vividly dressed as Krishna and Radha. Anyone aware of Krishna would know that two things stand out in his dress and accessories ... a wooden flute with which he mesmerizes those who hear him play, and two, something more unique - a peacock feather that either rests on the top of his crown or tied to his mat of hair in the front of his head.

Due to this common item in all those dressed as Krishna, or even in the sea of colourful clothing of men and women participating, Balwant easily lost track of Sonam and Abheer in the crowd and the dance. Sometimes he would catch a glimpse of either of them only to lose them in the next instant.

Songs blared through loudspeakers, sung by local artists with accompanying music. Amidst the cacophony it was almost impossible to hear what people around were talking. Abheer seized this opportunity and, as he and Sonam danced around, he took liberty to tell Sonam whatever was plaguing his aching mind.

"Bhabhi, why are you trying to avoid me? Do you realise that each moment you are occupying more of my mind and heart than a day earlier? Do I have to feel you only through that delicate fabric of yours which I possess?" He somehow conveyed these words as they were beside one another.

"Careful. Babuji is watching us intently. Do you want that we fall into trouble?"

Sonam quickly said, smiling just as much as the dance required of her.

"Is it? Have you told him that you have gifted me your panties? It's just touching the area over my heart right now, inside this gawdy tunic of mine." Abheer pointed to the spot with the help of the flute in his hand.

"Are you mad? You want me to tell him about my missing panties? Give it back to me right now." Sonam said, muttering the words within clenched teeth.

"Oh! So, you want your gift back? Very well, I'll return it to you, but not here. I can't open my tunic and certainly, I can't take out your very intimate inner garment from the inside in clear view of everyone."

"Where then?" Sonam asked eagerly, hopeful that she would get back her intimate piece of undergarment at last.

"You know the old, gardener's cottage in our compound? It's vacant anyway and it's hidden behind bushes and trees at the end of the pond. No one will see you going there." Abheer's said a bit tentatively.

"But why there? Why not inside the house?"

"And get caught in the process? Nothing doing." He had other reasons for choosing that spot which he didn't disclose.

Sonam thought for a while before she asked agreed and asked the time.

"Soon after this dance," the young Abheer specified.

The rasleela dance went on for almost another hour, with two three breaks. Before the function ended Balwant had got sufficiently bored to think of leaving. He was satisfied that nothing was amiss between his nephew and his bahu to warrant his presence.

Both Sonam and Abheer saw him leaving towards the mansion and heaved a sigh of relief. The young lad seized this opportunity.

"Let's get out of here now," he said to Sonam even before the dance ended.

Sonam quickly agreed. With Babuji out from the frame, this was the safest moment, she knew. Abheer slid away first and Sonam followed a bit later. Among the medley, no one missed them.

Once inside the cottage, Sonam was panting not just because she was out of breath but because she was scared. If observed, she really had no answer to anyone asking what she and Abheer were doing inside this abandoned cottage.

"Abheer, where is it? Give it back. Please, quickly," she said in a hushed voice even though no one would be able to hear a word of what was being said at this place.

"But my kiss? We agreed on the exchange yesterday, remember?" Abheer pointed out.

"Don't play games, Abheer."

Abheer turned towards the door. "Very well then, suit yourself. I am leaving."

"Wait," Sonam cried instantly. Hesitantly, she took two steps towards her 'devar'.

The young man too, with excitement running through his veins, had taken a few steps towards his Bhabhi, looking at the luscious lips of the sensual woman. He noticed that they were a bit swollen but didn't press to know the reason.

"I want to hold you," he said, his voice trembling. Before Sonam could respond, Abheer held his lovely Bhabhi, his hands holding her arms near the shoulders, and then looked deeply into her eyes.

The pretty bahu had her eyes closed, not in any excitement but wishing to avoid witnessing her own 'infidelity' towards Balwant.

Abheer's arms were around Sonam in seconds as he pulled in his Bhabhi, allowing her breasts to push into his chest. He now held the woman's head at the back, just where the hair was tied into a bun and drawing her face up to receive his own. Their lips were hardly inches apart.

"Open your eyes, Bhabhi. I can't allow you to imagine someone else when you kiss me," he said with an air of authority.

"What? Who do you mean?" Her words came out more in guilt than in surprise.

Abheer didn't reply. He felt intoxicated in the fresh and minty breath that rushed out with her words. So irresistible, he felt. His lips met hers, softly at first before he began kissing her turbulently in a wild passion. His lips forced her to part hers and push in his tongue.

Sonam tried to push out the invading tongue and say something but Abheer heard only garbled words. Till, suddenly, she could pull her head away and push against the young man's chest with the palms of her hand.

"Enough!" Sonam screamed, "You have got what you wanted."

Releasing herself, she extended her hand, "My panties. Give it back. Now!" For once, her voice was stern.

Abheer had an impish smile on his face. He undid the buttons on his tunic and parted its fold at the top. He was wearing a vest inside, and the panties was hidden underneath it, right where his heart would be. He took it out.

"One last whiff, Bhabhi," he was already taking the fabric towards his face.

"No! Give it back. Have you no respect for your Bhabhi?"

Abheer smiled. "On the contrary, I have enormous respect. I worship her like a goddess! It is she who spurns such an ardent and passionate disciple."

Sonam made a grab for the piece. Her young 'devar' merely raised his hand high above his head, making her jump a few times before she gave up. Abheer was tall and Sonam had no chance of reaching it. She gave up.

"Keep it. I am not going to beg for something that is mine," she said in the end in irritation.

"What will you do with this when you already have one underneath your clothes right now. How will you carry it all the way from here to your room with so many people around you, including your 'respected' Babuji?" There was a distinct taunt in the way he stressed on the word 'respected'.

"I'll find a way. You needn't worry," Sonam said.

"What would that be? Wearing this on top of the one you are already wearing? Come on, wear it in front of me, Bhabhi. Please," Abheer teased her.

Sonam was on the verge of crying.

"Hold your tears, Bhabhi. I am pained to see tears in the eyes of those whom I love and adore." His voice was mellowed and loving.

Without further delay, he handed over the fabric to his Bhabhi.

"Here, you have earned back your undergarment," he said, "but be careful while you take it back to your room."

"Thank you, I will." Her voice was soft and carried a tone of relief. She made a dash for the door. Each moment could put her in danger.

"Bhabhi," Abheer called out.

Sonam turned around at the door, "Yes?"

"Tomorrow is another day. And it is Holi ... and we should all be open to fun," his voice didn't carry threats but just hints of a challenge of sorts.

Sonam was out and almost running towards the mansion. On the way, she brushed her lips with her fingers, almost trying to rub away the invisible traces of that kiss back in the cottage. But her mind recaptured a fleeting image of her devar's lips. Thin and longish, the upper was perfectly shaped like a bow and the lower complemented it to perfection. Together, those lips formed a youthful yet demanding pair in the end. How did that compare to the thick ones of Babuji? She shook her head imperceptibly as she took quick strides. Oh heavens! What was she thinking, how shameful?

And Abheer? Soon after Sonam left, he walked out of the cottage. He too thought of that one kiss a while back and already, he was aching for more. He would celebrate Holi in a befitting way, he resolved. His young and mischievous mind was at work.

He started whistling a tune and there was a smile of contentment on his face. His mind had worked out how to extract the best out of the celebrations on Holi ... not the usual way people celebrated the festival of colours but a deviation of sorts. He would not only equip himself with packets of 'gulal' (a fine powder that comes in different colours used in Holi) but would also have a little 'sindoor' (vermillion) stashed away secretly in his pocket.

What better way to mark Bhabhi as his own other than spreading some of that red 'sindoor' on her 'mang' (the line where the hair is parted), as a groom would do to the bride in a wedding? No one would easily know the difference in the red powder, but his 'sindoor' would carry an enormous difference in intent that separated others from him. And this gave immense joy to an infatuated lover.

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