Payal ki Jhankar Ch. 01

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Payal and Shahnawaz are married.
4.6k words
4.26
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Part 1 of the 12 part series

Updated 06/07/2023
Created 06/22/2012
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The idea for this multi-part story was suggested by Waishu to me. It certainly had a zing about it, given that I have enjoyed bringing the activities of sexually active Pakistanis to the fore. This plot interested me because it is about the feudal and rural persons in the country, not my usual expats. This is the first part and more will follow in time.

*

Payal considered options on how she could get out of the overly obvious line of sight that the strangely handsome man in the crisp shalwar kameez suit had on her. There are chance sightings and there are open leers. The way he looked at her was not per chance. Yet there was no sign that he was mentally undressing her as so many others at the gathering certainly had done, and perhaps others were doing at that very moment in time. Rather the person seemed to be weighing her for some other purpose and wondered what it may be. Could she gravitate over to her mom and the older ladies who were chatting about antique topics or was it okay to join and hang on to her dad as he sucked down scotches with the other guys? Either sounded unpalatable and for now she had to stay where she was and try not to let the not-so-bad looking guy cause her to react unbecomingly, given that she was among other female relatives of a similar age.

Was she dressed inappropriately for the extended family gathering? Perhaps she was. Just as she had exited the house to get into the car for the drive over to the Gymkhana, her father had a somewhat concerned look on his face. Payal imagined it was because she had decided to wear a sari that not only left her midriff uncovered, but also was sleeveless and sheer. This after all was 1981, and Zia-ul-Haq had already started implementing his infamous Islamization program. While there was no doubt in her mind that she was dressed as she wanted, totally non-conforming to the burqa-dominion envisioned by the asinine president of the country, the stare from the stranger was unnerving her. Perhaps she wondered she should have worn the shalwar kameez that her mom suggested. That still would not have addressed the fact that her beauty would not have been concealed in that case either!

Not surprisingly, Chaudhry Nizam-ud-Din Raziqi was concerned that his daughter was dressed somewhat too Indian for his taste or the mores of current society. Yet he mused how, back in the 1950s, he had been so turned on when her mother, the Chaudhrani, had entertained society while wearing virtually backless saris that were the rage then. Surely, twenty some years on, Payal actually had more clothes on than her mother did at her parties. He mused longingly that he had pulled his wife aside during one of her soirees, hiked up her petticoat and given her an intense rogering in his office, while viewing the party outdoors from the big picture window. Oh yes, he was the open minded Chaudhry sort, loving, respectful of women, doting on his daughter and wife, protector of femaledom and so on. Even his daughter's name, not common in the country, was Indian in origin. He was thoroughly pissed at the asshole bandmaster of a new president who had totally fucked up the air of openness in Pakistan, even though his writ had yet to extend to the Gymkhana or the upper classes. The fact that hijabs and burqas were now regaining popularity rankled within him, and he blamed this on that stupid general.

Perhaps, though, for a bit he wondered if Payal would have been better off with a hijab on the day or even a burqa given the stares she was getting from the males around. The issue of concern was that Naseema Bibi had been his wife now for more than two decades and was somewhat past the prime where even youngsters in their twenties checked her out, whereas Payal on the other hand was now at the age where she would be looked over thoroughly and thus he was perhaps feeling old. Did he not have that odd parental sense that his girl was on show, oh he did! And why was Shahnawaz, his distant cousin Mushtaq Hussein Kakar's son, staring at Payal so intently. Did he have no shame not to eye females, within the clan, in the way he was? Yet he realized that Shahnawaz was on the correct wicket even if checking out the girls on show since, as a distant relative, he was part of an emergent and wealthy part of the same clan as Payal, and belonged at the event. Even so, staring so unabashedly was not the way to take in such a gathering of the extended family. He would need to have a word with Mushtaq soon.

"Naseema, tu dekhiya ay ke oh munda teri kuri teh kinni tak laga riya ay, hor tey kithay nazar hi nahin jaandi? (Naseema, did you see how intently that guy is checking out your daughter, his eyes are going nowhere else?)," one of the fat aunties in her chatting circle formed on one side of the lawn poked Payal's mother with a double-edged remark.

"Ki kita jaye, akhir kuri waikhan de kabil hagi ay, baqi teh ghorian te khotian hi disdiyan nein (What can be done, the girl is worth looking at, the rest here are all mares and donkeys)!" was Naseema's equally sharp retort, at once elevating Payal and denigrating the other girls, including the other person's daughter who was also there.

The aunty shut up immediately and the topic changed post haste. Yet Naseema sensed that she needed to view Payal somewhat different from her little daughter, something she should have done when her breasts started to sprout some years back. Today she appeared more vamp, than debutante, in this company.

"Oh God! Is she gorgeous!" was all Shahnawaz could think. He had caught sight of Payal soon after she had arrived with her father, mother and two younger brothers. Payal had stood out in her fashionable sari while most of the other females were dressed in baggy Punjabi outfits. Her fair skin, just so much paler than that of the other girls, her long tresses so nicely falling to her waist, her confidence in carrying off the relatively revealing outfit, her height which was a good two inches above the average female there, the perkiness of her young breasts, her slimness in contrast to the general obesity, and most of all her piercing eyes left him dumbstruck. He was not staring, it was just that her sight had knocked his sense of place dead and the life had left his body. "I must find out who she is," he made a mental note when finally back to his senses. It was time to mingle, this being the first occasion on which he had attended this annual gathering, but more importantly it was time to scout. "I must have her," was a promise he made to himself as he moved about in the crowd.

Shahnawaz was not the only person taking a prurient interest in Payal. Just to one side of the gathering, covered from sight of most of the older folk, sat a thirty-something man with a daunting physique but a face that could freeze blood. His cock had uncomfortably risen as he eyed Payal from a distance, his mind undressing her slowly for a bit and then hurriedly ripping her clothes off for a tad. It would be rather embarrassing if someone else came by or asked him to get up and join a conversation, his shalwar would not hold in the hard erection he was sporting. Seeing that he had an opportunity he slipped behind some bushes that gave him privacy and pulled out his penis. A hand job would have to suffice for now, and did! Using a handkerchief to clean himself off, and comforted that his dick had retracted to its more conventional form, Haqnawaz stepped back into the gathering and began to look for other company. Yet his brain had the image of Payal imprinted all over it.

Almost running into his brother, he had a passing fit of jealousy on noticing that Shahnawaz was also riveted at the sight of the same girl. Now his younger brother had a chance at that beauty, Haqnawaz knew for sure. Shahnawaz was after all single and handsome. On the other hand, while blessed with business sense and money, he himself looked hideous. That would be enough for any girl to reject him. Furthermore, that gorgeous girl he was fantasizing about would be out of reach due to the simple fact that Haqnawaz had a wife and, equally ugly, child at home. Haqnawaz had an early marriage, so common amongst the rural elite, tying him to a woman he could hardly bear to fathom, due to both her acerbic tongue and her immense size, on account of creating feudal fiefdoms and joining two powerful families. It had been years since he had bedded her, in fact once the son was born, the sex had stopped. Haqnawaz had no intent of ever fucking his wife, Parveen, again, even someone as ugly as him had standards he had convinced himself. In any case her father was now dead, just a few years into the marriage, and he had taken over all the property as the husband of his only living child, a daughter, since her two brothers had been killed in a feud with other landowners. He knew that there was no danger of Parveen sullying her name with some outside dalliance while he ignored her, she was just not good looking at all and would not find any but the most desperate of mates.

II

As Payal stretched out nude under the covers of the bridal bed, post-coitus, Shahnawaz could not believe how lucky he had been to snare such a catch and how quickly things had sorted themselves out.

A call from his father, Mukhtar Hussein, to Chaudhry Raziq had been taken with the expected formality. The visit of the prospective groom's family had also gone without commitment. However, when Shahnawaz himself came over with his folks a couple of weeks later, the Chaudhry and Chaudhrani had been more than courteous. The engagement proceeded the very same day. The marriage took place just a month afterwards, just prior to the onset of Ramadan and the summer months that were to follow.

The change in the hearts of Payal's parents was not totally by chance. Their initial response to the proposal was muted as Chaudhry Raziq had not taken kindly to his daughter being ogled by the prospective suitor at the Gymkhana party. By absolute chance, however, one of the numerous female servants in the household had found a "love letter" of sorts among Payal's belongings. Written by an elder brother of Payal's close friend at the all-girls' Kinnaird College, the missive was enough to sound alarm bells around the house. Whether or not Payal was implicit did not matter, the mere whiff of scandal would be a blot on the family honour. Taking the correct immediate step, the Chaudhrani dropped enough hints to Shahnawaz's mother of the general acceptance to the proposal. For Shahnawaz, who had been depressed by the uncertainty, the world had just opened up great avenues. What Payal cared was not a factor in the feudal equation; she was a female in a male-dominated society after all.

III

Payal, however, did care about what was happening. That letter from Abid, her friend's brother should never have come home but been destroyed after receiving and reading it at school. It may not have been such an issue if he had not taken great poetic pains, in Urdu, to describe her beauty, the taste of her lips, the feel of her hair and the perfection of her body! Where in the world did a fellow from Aitchison College, that bastion of crown-elitism and Englishness learn to write Urdu like that, she wondered. Why could he not have let things stay the way they were, rather than raising the stakes and turning both into losers?

Abid was the elder brother, driving his sister Fariha, to a party in town. Payal had gone along for the ride since the drivers at home had been called to the village for some reason. It had taken less than five minutes for both to be affected by each other. A number of chance meetings then led to a few surreptitious dates in Lahore's cafes.

It was when Abid drove her to his house one afternoon and she did not find Fariha, or anyone else, that things took a decidedly amorous turn. Fariha and parents were off to a wedding and Abid had sent the couple of servants out on long errands. Payal had not been too concerned about waiting in the main lounge, she figured Fariha would be back soon.

Abid sat down next to her and began the usual small talk. Except that this time the topic was Payal and he was effusive about her beauty. As Payal listened, his hand wandered over to pick hers up lightly and caress it. She did not retrieve her hand and he let his other one feel her hair and end up on her cheek. She was turning red but did not stop him for some strange reason. Picking up courage, he put his arms around her and brought her mouth to his. Payal should have pushed him away, but she yielded to the tongue intruding into her mouth. Neither of them were practiced kissers, but after a few tentative attempts they soon got into the groove. Maybe the fact they had all seen numerous American movies or read Mills & Boon type of stories helped them grasp the intricacies of French kissing.

Abid's tongue explored the insides of Payal's mouth as he pressed her down onto the sofa. She could feel the heat from his loins through her clothing and felt a strange hardness against her thigh. Abid's hand came up to feel her breast and she tensed for a bit. However, as her arms were not easily retracted from his embrace, she was unable to stop him from feeling up the other breast and begin to kiss her neck and down to her cleavage.

Abid upped the ante by moving one hand between her legs, feeling the curve of her cunt and sending a bolt of electricity through her. Payal was surprised by the intrusion but also liked the sensation that he was causing. When, however, he got a hold of the drawstring on her shalwar and loosened it, she had to push him off as hard as she could. On one hand, he got up and sat to a side. On the other, as he did so, the loosened shalwar moved all the way down her legs and he was able to pull it off with ease.

"Nahin, Abid, mein yeh nahin kar sakti (No, Abid, I cannot do this)," she implored. His hand by now was on her bare leg and moving up to her panties.

"Fikr na karo, mein tumhari izzat kharab nahin karoon ga (Don't be concerned, I'll not soil your honour)," he assured her while spreading her legs and touching her cunt through the flimsy panty.

"Give me my shalwar please," she begged.

"Okay, but if you do something nice for me first," he replied.

Abid's hands grabbed her and stood her in front of him. He next took the hems of her kameez and lifted the garment off her body. She stood there in just her bra and panties.

"You are insanely beautiful, Payal, be mine," Abid let her know as he brought his mouth together with hers.

Finishing the kiss after a considerable while, she asked if she could leave. His answer was in no-man's land.

"Let me see you naked, then I promise to drop you off soon."

As she soaked in the information he unhooked the bra and dropped it. The panties were also pulled off in a flash. Payal was totally at his mercy and had no option but to submit. As Abid began taking his clothes off, her worst fears seemed to be coming true. She was surprised to see his erect penis. Having never seen one before in such glory, she was both intrigued and frightened by it.

"Mein tumhari izzat nahin loon ga, laikin tumhe pyar ke aur tarikay dekhaon ga (I'll not deflower you but show you other ways of making love)."

He sat down on the sofa and had Payal on her knees in front of him. As she wondered what to do, he pulled her mouth over his cock. She gagged as it hit the back of the throat and tried to pull back. He allowed a bit back out and caressed her hair. Slowly he began to push in and pull out of her mouth. Soon Payal got the hang of things and felt him stiffening even more. She got the shock of her life when he tensed and shot a huge load of cum into her mouth. She pulled back sharply, and gobs of his semen landed all over her body, the sofa and the floor.

"Yeh kya huwa (What happened)?" she blurted, confused with a mouthful of cum.

"Nothing at all to worry about, you just did something very loving and harmless with me."

He led her to his room and suggested that she gargle. She was looking to retrieve her clothes but could see that he had other plans yet. When he pulled her onto the bed, she could envision the family shame on discovering her loss of virginity and prayed somehow to get away. Abid was not yet done, but he was not going to be a total cad either. He slid down the bed and brought his mouth to her cunt. She was quite aroused and was amenable to the considerable amount of sucking that he conducted. He thought about fingering her, but did not want to risk breaking her hymen. By the time he was done, he could see that she was wet.

Payal let him turn her over without a word. His tonguing had electrified her and so far things had not been alarming. She did not mind his greasing her anus with cold cream or the fact that he spread her legs and placed his cock at her backside. She, however, did shriek without abandon when his prick penetrated her asshole and burrowed into her. Abid would not let go, but slowly pushed his whole member inside. It hurt mightily, but there were also sensations of pleasure running through her body. As she relaxed a bit, Abid began to fuck her ass in earnest. It did not take long for her tightness and his horniness to culminate in another load from his cock. Payal was relieved when he pulled out, leaving her sticky all over.

She could not really argue when he led her into the shower and washed the various fluids off her body, going home with the musk of sex on her would not do. He had her do the same to him. They kissed profusely as both dried off. Abid brought her clothes up and let her dress fix herself up. A few more kisses, one just before he got to her home, ended the considerable passion of the day.

Payal was in love and the fact that Abid had not vaginally taken her elevated his status in her eyes. He was from a good family, his sister was Payal's friend, and he went to the same elite schools as male members of her family. She was sure that the next message from Abid would be via a marriage proposal through his family.

Imagine the surprise when it was in the form of poetry graphically describing her curves, looks and moods, both while normal and in the throes of passion! Where Abid could easily have stretched out things for some time, letting both enjoy each others' bodies and company, he went overboard with his romanticizing and screwed things up royally. And when she stupidly brought the first love note she had ever received home and secreted it, she should have known that karma would trump her feelings.

IV

As she sat on the bridal bed, decked out in her wedding clothes and loaded down with pounds of jewellery, Payal wondered how things could have moved so quickly and in such an unexpected manner. In a few moments a total stranger, albeit a long-distance relative, would pluck her cherry, the fruit that Abid should rightfully have had.

Faced with the incriminating evidence and, sensing that her normally liberal parents would not be keen on any explanations, Payal had agreed to the proposal that was at hand. Of course, she had no idea what Shahnawaz was like. As a female within a feudal household she would have to figure that out later. She prayed that things worked out and her husband was not like the usual males in her family's social circle.

Payal's heart missed a beat when the door opened and Shahnawaz walked in. But custom dictated she sit still, head bowed, till he moved proceedings along. Carefully he sat at the edge of the bed, taking his time about the next step to take. Getting his courage up, he lifted her chin so their eyes could meet. Payal was stunning and no words came to his mouth. His face, however, did light up with the realization that he was married to a most desirable woman. Payal's initial response of fright also dimmed as she saw he was a most handsome person, easily better looking than Abid. She thanked her stars that her cherry was intact.

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