A Wife for One, A Desire for Many

The story begins

She looked innocent, with soft eyes, a shy smile, and a heart that hadn't yet tasted desire. But this is the story of how her world shifted, how one by one, men began to want her, touch her, and awaken something deep inside her that she never knew existed.

The story begins in 2011, but before the heat starts, let's talk about Sanjana Sharma. Born in the small Ind**n town of "Manj*ri", she was the sweet, unexpected child her parents had in 1988. Her dad held a private job, her mom stayed home, and her older brother was already eight years ahead of her when she came along.

Being the youngest, Sanjana got all the love—and a lot of freedom. Her dad, while conservative with the world, let his daughter dress as she pleased. Skirts, crop tops, tight

jeans—she wore them all, even if it made her the talk of her extended family.

From childhood, Sanjana was irresistibly cute. And as she grew into her curves, she became the kind of girl heads turned for. After finishing school at a top-tier English-medium college, her life changed more when her brother married Anjali, a wise, confident woman only four years older. But the real twist? Anjali and Sanjana clicked instantly.

They didn't just bond—they became like shadows of each other. Anjali saw things in Sanjana that even Sanjana hadn't realised yet.

College life brought out the best in Sanjana. She performed in every event, and those tight dance outfits didn't go unnoticed. She was brilliant in academics too, earning a degree in commerce. She even tried for CA, but numbers weren't the only thing growing around her.

Boys were drawn to her like moths to flame. Some came close—too close—but Anjali kept her grounded. A stolen kiss here, a curious touch there—but no lines were ever fully crossed. At least not yet.

Marriage proposals started rolling in. The once-slender girl had filled out deliciously—plump cheeks, a rounded figure, the kind that made heads turn twice. Anjali teased her affectionately, calling her "Golu," and claimed men loved girls they could hold onto. Sanjana might have blushed, but deep down, she knew she wasn't "fat"—5'3" and 55 kilos of soft, irresistible flesh.

Her father kept turning down proposals, saying she was still too young. But once college ended, he even started talking about weddings. Anjali stepped in again, smart as ever, convincing them to wait. After all, she said, Sanjana was still too immature to "handle a household." Though Sanjana wondered—was her bhabhi protecting her, or teasing her?

"She's still so immature. How is she going to handle a husband, let alone a full household?" Anjali had said to the family one evening, sipping her tea and smirking knowingly. Sanjana overheard her from the hallway. She paused, unsure—was her sister-in-law teasing her, or protecting her in her twisted way? But then again, Anjali wasn't just family. She was her closest companion. The kind who could joke one minute and defend her the next.

Sanjana had long craved a sense of freedom—something beyond her well-behaved, conservative upbringing. She wanted to explore, earn, and feel powerful in her own right. After weeks of pestering her father—and with Anjali sweet-talking him behind the scenes—he finally relented.

He let her take a job at a Chartered Accountancy firm owned by one of his old friends. It wasn't glamorous, but it gave Sanjana something she hadn't expected—space. Space to grow. Space to breathe.

She already knew how to ride a scooty, and now, with a job

of her own, she was riding toward a newer, bolder version of herself. She began noticing how heads turned when she

walked into the office, how her voice carried more weight in conversations. She wasn't just the "cute daughter" anymore—she was becoming a woman who made her own choices.

Two years passed like that.

And while Sanjana was quietly evolving, her mother was getting restless. She worried constantly about marriage—about finding the right boy, the right family, the right future.

Sanjana's father, on the other hand, had a firm rule: no dowry, no discussion. Because of this, half the proposals didn't even make it through the front door. The other half usually had some unreasonable demand—appearance, salary, cooking skills, or other outdated nonsense. But Sanjana never stressed. She wasn't desperate. She wanted more than a husband. She wanted a connection.

Marriage Proposal

Then one afternoon, everything shifted. Her mother received a call from a relative on her side of the family. It was about a proposal—from a family in Ghatpu**r, her maternal hometown. They were familiar, respectable, and—most importantly—interested in Sanjana.

Anjali heard about it before Sanjana did.

And from that moment, the teasing… the planning… and the quiet fire between curiosity and caution had begun.

Sanjana's mother stepped into the room holding her phone and called out, "Anjali, come here. I want you to see this boy's photo."

Anjali walked over casually, took the phone from her hand, and studied the image with a sly grin. "Hmm… he's not bad. Who is he?"

"He's from Ghatpu**r," her mother replied. "I sent him Guddu's photo last week. They live nearby."

Anjali raised an eyebrow. "So you're ready to pack her off to Ghatpu**r now?"

"Not exactly," her mother smirked. "The boy works in Luckn**w—he's in a bank. She'd live here. His family is based in Ghatpu**r, that's all."

"Still, I hope they're not asking for dowry," Anjali said, rolling her eyes. "You know her father won't entertain that for even a second."

"They're not. They only want a happy, festive wedding."

Anjali grinned. "Now that's rare."

Her mother nodded. "Talk to Guddu, okay? She won't listen to anyone but you. They're coming in four days."

Anjali laughed mischievously. "What do I get if I convince her?"

"I'll get you whatever you want. Just make sure she doesn't do what she did last time—showing up in jeans in front of the family."

Anjali smirked. "That guy wasn't even worth a glance. She'll say yes this time. I'll take care of it."

That evening, Sanjana burst into the house, calling out loudly.

"Bhabhi! Oh my sweet, sexy Bhabhi! Where are you hiding?"

"I'm right here," Anjali said, walking out with a knowing smile. "Someone's glowing today. What's the secret?"

"Nothing much," Sanjana said, grinning. "Just a good day."

"Oh really?" Anjali teased. "Or maybe a certain photo leaked?"

Sanjana froze. "Photo? Whose photo?"

"Yours," Anjali said playfully. "And your mystery man's."

Sanjana crossed her arms, pretending to be upset. "Even you've joined them? I expected better from you."

"Shut up and look." Anjali handed her the phone.

Sanjana peeked at the screen. "Okay… and?"

Anjali stepped closer. "He's coming Sunday. Four days from now. And this time, no drama, no attitude. Just be your gorgeous self."

"But why so soon?" Sanjana mumbled, her voice suddenly quieter.

"Because, Golu…" Anjali said, brushing Sanjana's hair gently over her shoulder, "You're not a kid anymore. And this guy... I have a good feeling about him."

Sanjana looked down, her cheeks flushed with uncertainty.

Anjali leaned in, her tone playful. "And when he touches

you here…" she traced a finger lightly down Sanjana's arm, "and maybe here too…" she teased, nudging Sanjana's waist gently, "don't forget who gave you the heads-up."

Sanjana blushed deeper. "Bhaabhi! Stop it."

Anjali laughed, grabbed her hand, and pulled her into a hug. "I'm just preparing you. You have to meet him properly. I promise, we'll figure out the rest later. You trust me, don't you?"

Sanjana didn't speak. But her eyes were soft. Her hands stayed wrapped around Anjali. Somewhere between nerves and hope, she felt something shift.

And Anjali, ever the playful protector, kissed her cheek and whispered, "Good girls blush now... smart girls enjoy later."

Sunday morning arrived, and Sanjana woke up with a scowl on her face. For the past three days, Anjali hadn't

shown her the boy's photo even once. Sanjana, out of pure pride, hadn't asked either. She knew her sister-in-law too well—Anjali was playing the game of teasing, delaying, and letting curiosity turn into delicious frustration.

At this point, Sanjana couldn't even remember what the boy looked like anymore. His name? Ajay. Yes... she thought so.

Her mother came briskly into the room, pulling open the curtains. "Guddu, wake up! The boy's family will be here soon. They're expected at ten."

Ten? Who even shows up so early? Sanjana groaned internally and pretended to be asleep, keeping her back turned.

Moments later, Anjali entered, her tone amused but firm. "Golu, up now. Go take a bath and don't even think about acting lazy."

Sanjana opened one eye and shot her a look full of mock

annoyance, but said nothing. She wasn't ready to lose the battle just yet.

Then the doorbell rang. Sanjana jumped out of bed and tiptoed to the hallway, peeking from behind the curtain to see who had come.

There were five visitors. She began mentally sorting them.

Two older adults—probably the boy's parents.

One young woman, on the heavier side, was dressed in a flashy golden saree. A sister? A sister-in-law?

And then, two young men.

Both looked to be around their late twenties. One of them was tall—about 5'10"—fair-skinned, dressed sharply, with an athletic build and a subtle, irresistible confidence. The kind of man you'd notice the second he entered a room.

The other was shorter—maybe 5'7"—not as fair, but clean-

shaven, with thin glasses and a mild, intellectual air. Slim. Quiet. The kind of man who might surprise you slowly.

Sanjana's heart beat a little faster as she stared, wondering, Which one is Ajay? She couldn't remember the face from the old photo anymore. Did he even wear glasses? she questioned herself.

Just then, Anjali entered Sanjana's room with the energy of a thunderstorm.

"Sanjana!" she barked. "You're not ready yet?"

Sanjana flinched. Oh no. No pet names. Not Golu. Not Cutu. Not Sweetie. When Anjali used her full name, it meant she was furious.

"Just ten minutes!" Sanjana pleaded, then darted into the bathroom before another word could be spoken.

Meanwhile, the living room had come alive with polite conversation and warm introductions. Tea and snacks were

flowing. Sanjana's elder brother was grilling the visitors quietly—this was his baby sister after all. Her father, meanwhile, had already launched into political discussions, as usual.

Her mother whispered to Anjali, "Go check if Guddu is ready."

Then, turning to the guests, she added, "I call her Guddu, though everyone in the family has a different nickname for her."

"I'll go see," Anjali said, walking off.

When Anjali saw Sanjana again, her smile turned soft. Sanjana looked like a dream in a pale blue kurti. Her cheeks were already blushing with a pink hue, whether from nerves or something deeper, Anjali couldn't tell.

"If I were Ajay," Anjali said playfully, "I'd marry you right now."

Sanjana smiled shyly and followed her out into the courtyard.

As soon as she stepped outside, the air seemed to change. Every eye turned to her. She looked gorgeous, glowing in a simple, untouched way. Anjali held her hand like a proud sister and led her to where the guests were seated, placing her beside the young woman in the golden saree—Ajay's sister, Arpita.

"She's even prettier than in the picture," Pooja said aloud. "Brother, are you even paying attention?"

Sanjana smiled faintly, lowering her eyes—but her cheeks burned with heat. She kept trying to steal glances to figure out who Ajay was.

Soon, Ajay's mother, Sarita, came and sat beside her, gently taking Sanjana's hand into hers as if she were feeling for some kind of hidden truth. Sanjana sat silently,

her heart racing. She couldn't hear anything. Couldn't even focus.

Then, from the corner of her eye, she saw the tall boy—boy-the one who looked like he belonged on a magazine cover—smiling at her softly. It must be him, she thought. It has to be him.

Anjali's voice broke the moment. "If everyone agrees, maybe Ajay and Sanjana can have a little time to talk alone?"

Everyone nodded politely.

Anjali looked toward Sanjana and added, "Come on, Ajayji."

And then… the shorter boy with the glasses stood up.

Sanjana's stomach dropped for half a second. Oh. That's Ajay? Not the one I imagined... She didn't let her face betray the thought, but a slight flicker passed her eyes.

Anjali smiled to herself, almost as if she had predicted this exact reaction.

She led the two of them to a quiet guest room and said with a teasing grin, "Talk comfortably. Sanjana, try not to scare Ajayji too much, okay?"

Sanjana gave her sister-in-law a long, side glance, to which Anjali only winked and slipped out of the room.

Now, alone in the room, the silence stretched between them like a fresh bedsheet—clean, awkward, waiting to wrinkle.

Sanjana shot her sister-in-law a sharp glance as Anjali left the room with a mischievous smirk, closing the door behind her. The silence between Sanjana and Ajay suddenly felt heavy, intimate in a way neither of them had expected.

They both sat awkwardly, hands folded in their laps, barely making eye contact.

Ajay finally spoke. "Your sister-in-law is... quite funny. And sweet."

The words slipped out more casually than he intended. And instantly, he panicked inside. God, I hope she doesn't think I'm into my Bhabhi.

Sanjana laughed softly, easing the tension a bit. "She is. She's also my best friend. Way more than my mother, to be honest."

That opened the floodgates.

Sanjana began speaking animatedly about Anjali, her family, how she grew up, her job, her college memories, and even about the times she'd nearly said no to other proposals. Her voice carried a rhythm, and her expressive eyes glowed with innocence and suppressed excitement.

Ajay watched her. Listened. Took in her fast-paced words and her flustered energy. She was beautiful—far prettier than her photo—but she was also overwhelming. He

wasn't a talkative guy, and all of this felt like too much, too soon.

Still, he said nothing. He let her speak. And somewhere in that river of words, he asked the one thing he'd been sent to find out.

"So… will you continue working after marriage?"

Sanjana didn't flinch. "Yes. Definitely. I want to continue."

Ajay leaned back slightly, testing her. "You know, you don't need to. I work as a senior loan officer. I earn well enough to take care of us both."

She looked him in the eye. "That's good to hear. But my job isn't just about money. It's about me."

Ajay paused. She was stronger than he expected.

"Fine," he said simply. "We'll figure it out. But from my side… this match? I'm saying yes."

Sanjana didn't know what to say to that. Her first thought wasn't romance. It was frustration—That's it? We're done already? She hadn't even asked him about his habits, his thoughts, his actual desires. It all felt… mechanical.

Right then, Anjali came in to collect her, her eyes flicking knowingly between them.

As she led Sanjana away, she pulled her into a side corridor and asked softly, "Well?"

"I don't know, Bhabhi. Can anyone decide something so big in just a few minutes?" Sanjana whispered.

Anjali shrugged. "That's all the time you get. Look, your mom's going to say yes. If you want me to stop this, say it now. Otherwise, you know I'll disappear when the drama begins."

Sanjana hesitated. "He's okay. Not someone I'd say no to.

Not someone I'd run toward either. But you all know better."

She didn't say it out loud, but her mind repeated it: He doesn't excite me... but maybe that comes later.

Anjali grinned. "Good enough. It's settled then."

Without hesitation, she wrapped Sanjana tightly in her arms, squeezed her, and pressed a kiss onto her cheek. "Welcome to adulthood, baby girl," she whispered with a smirk.

After the short private meeting, Anjali walked back into the living room with a sparkle in her eyes and a certain pride in her step. She leaned into Sanjana's mother's ear and whispered something, and in just minutes, the room was buzzing with approval.

The roka ceremony was done almost immediately, unplanned but welcomed.

Ajay's mother stepped forward and gently placed a sleek gold chain around Sanjana's neck, then slid a pair of elegant bangles over her wrists. The subtle weight of the jewellery felt both beautiful and heavy, like a promise she hadn't entirely wrapped her head around yet.

Sanjana's father applied a tilak to Ajay's forehead and handed him an envelope with ₹5,001—a traditional blessing and silent approval.

The two were made to sit side by side on a wide cushion. When Ajay's fingers brushed hers while offering a piece of laddu, a tiny current ran through Sanjana's hand. She fed him back with trembling fingers, avoiding eye contact.

Was this happening? she wondered.

She stood up afterwards, quietly bowing to take blessings from everyone—her heart pounding, skin warm, her mind clouded with one overwhelming question: Is he the one I'll sleep beside for the rest of my life?

After lunch, the guests left one by one. The room slowly fell quiet again. Sanjana walked back to her room, removed the bangles carefully, and sat cross-legged on her bed. Her little niece Anuwas was crawling around the room, humming and giggling, unaware of how Sanjana's world had just changed.

Sanjana lay back on the bed, her thoughts messy and electric.

His hands felt warm. His eyes were calm. But… is it calm enough? Will there be passion? Will there be a fire?

She rolled to one side and caught her reflection in the mirror. For the first time, she didn't see a college girl or a daughter. She saw a bride-to-be. A woman. And her heart skipped a beat.

By Monday, she returned to work, but she was no longer the same. Her body moved differently. Her mind

You know—the real part of marriage.

Wandered. She'd find herself zoning out mid-conversation, thinking about what her wedding night might be like. Her colleagues noticed her distant look and asked if everything was okay. She just smiled.

Two days later, the wedding date was fixed. Three months.

Three months until she'd sleep in another man's bed. That thought stayed with her longer than she expected.

The house exploded into preparations. Tailors, decorators, guest lists, jewellery shopping—it never stopped. But in between all that, Anjali took full control.

From choosing Sanjana's bridal lingerie to booking salon appointments, Anjali ran the show. And when they were alone, she started dropping more... intimate hints.

"Golu," Anjali said one evening, "now that you're officially engaged, it's time we talk. About the other stuff.

You know—the real part of marriage."

Sanjana blinked at her, heart racing slightly.

And Anjali just smiled. A smile that said, You've entered a new world now. And I'll guide you through every corner of it.

Two days after the engagement, Anjali walked into Sanjana's room while she was folding new bridal wear. Anjali sat on the edge of the bed and said with a smirk, "Alright. It's time we stop pretending."

Sanjana looked up. "Pretending what?"

"That you don't know what's coming your way—literally."

Sanjana dropped the kurti in her hand. "Bhaabhi!"

"You're about to marry a man. You're about to sleep with him. And you think you'll just show up in a red lehenga, lie down, and magic will happen?"

Sanjana flushed hard. "Ajay will do what he wants. I'll… respond."

"Oh really?" Anjali teased. "And what will you do when he kisses you down your neck… slides his hand up your waist… takes off your blouse and starts teasing your nipples with his tongue?"

Sanjana's jaw dropped. "Bhaabhi!"

"You're not a teenager anymore, Golu. I'm not telling you this to tease you. I'm telling you so you don't freeze up or feel guilty when your body reacts."

Sanjana sat still, heart pounding. "I've seen… a little. Online. But never like this."

"Good," Anjali said. "But don't just learn from videos. Talk. Tell him what you like. What feels good? It's not about being wild. It's about being open."

Sanjana whispered, "What if I'm too shy?"

"You will be," Anjali smiled. "But the best part? Shyness in bed can be sexy too. Just don't fake anything. Don't be quiet if it hurts. Don't hold back if it feels amazing."

Sanjana looked down at her hands. "Do you think he'll be… gentle?"

"I think he'll be whatever you guide him to be," Anjali said. "Men want to please. Let him."

Sanjana nodded slowly, cheeks glowing. The nervousness didn't vanish—but it turned into something else.

Something warm. Tingly.

Excited.

After Anjali's bold advice session, Sanjana's mind was anything but calm. She laughed it off in front of her bhabhi, but inside, something had shifted.

She tried to focus on her shopping lists and outfits, but now.

And then, Anjali's words echoed in her head.

"When he touches you… when his lips find your chest…"

It made Sanjana's face flush every single time she remembered it. Her bhabhi had said it so casually. So openly. Like it was just as normal as picking bridal bangles.

But to Sanjana, it still felt like entering a different world.

Later that night, after everyone had gone to bed, Sanjana lay in the dark, staring at the ceiling. The ceiling fan spun above her, but her thoughts were spinning faster.

What would Ajaydo? What would it feel like to be kissed for real? To have someone undress her with trembling fingers—not just by accident, but intentionally?

Her body responded before her mind could stop it. A slight shiver. A warm feeling in her stomach. The tips of her fingers brushing her arm... slowly, curiously.

She reached for her phone. Maybe a little conversation would distract her.

She opened her chat with Ajay. Their conversations had always been plain—textbook safe. Never romantic. Never suggestive. But now, her fingers hovered over the screen a little longer.

Sanjana:

Did you have a long day again?

Ajay:

Yeah. Reports, reviews, and my manager's lovely 4 p.m. drama. You?

Sanjana:

Wedding shopping. Jewellery. Saree. Nightwear.

She hesitated.

Sanjana (typing, then deleting): Then she retyped.

Sanjana:

Bhabhi told me I should be prepared… for everything.

A long pause.

Ajay:

She's not wrong.

Sanjana:

She says the first night is awkward… but beautiful.

Ajay:

It will be. For both of us.

There was a stillness in her chest—a moment that felt heavier than it should. But it wasn't fear. It was a mix of nervousness... and heat.

Sanjana:

Will you be nervous too?

Ajay:

I already am.

She smiled, held the phone to her chest, and closed her eyes.

For the first time, she wasn't thinking of wedding outfits or honeymoon spots.

She was thinking of hands, lips, eyes, and breath.

Of touch. And how it might change her forever.

Bought something for the first night too.

The wedding day arrived

Three months passed faster than anyone expected, and soon, the wedding day arrived. Sanjana's wedding was set in a modest banquet hall—nothing extravagant, because her family couldn't afford grand luxury.

Some relatives from the groom's side murmured among themselves that Ajay's wedding felt a bit too simple, not up to their imagined standards.

But the moment Sanjana stepped into the mandap wearing her deep red bridal lehenga, everything changed.

The hall seemed to go silent.

Every eye turned to her.

Even Ajay, standing on the stage, stared in disbelief—his bride looked like something out of a dream. He couldn't believe that this radiant woman, with her confident walk and glowing face, was now his.

Next to her, Ajay seemed... smaller. Softer. Ordinary.

A few guests even whispered the same under their breath—or at least thought it.

Ajay's sister, Pooja, and her husband, Vijay, had taken

responsibility for most of the arrangements from their side. Throughout the evening, Vijay made sure Sanjana was comfortable, handing her water or juice now and then while she sat nervously on stage.

Sanjana hadn't known him very well before, but his thoughtful and warm behaviour touched her deeply.

As the night stretched on, the exhaustion began to show. She was visibly tired—her face glowing with sweat, her back slightly aching—but the rituals weren't over yet.

Before the pheras, dinner was served. Ajay and Sanjana sat side by side while family members gathered around. Anjali fed Sanjana small bites with a teasing smile. Even Pooja and Vijay lovingly offered her spoonfuls, treating her already like one of their own.

Eventually, the sacred pheras were completed. Ajay tied the Man**lsutra around her neck and filled the parting of

her hair with vermilion. Just like that, Sanjana had stepped into a new phase of life.

Then came the moment Sanjana had been dreading—the Vid**i.

She cried uncontrollably. It wasn't just the emotion of leaving her home; it was the reality of stepping into the unknown, with strangers who would now be her family. It was the end of a chapter, and the beginning of something that felt as terrifying as it was beautiful.

Anjali, her sister-in-law—her best friend—also had tears in her eyes but kept herself composed. She hugged Sanjana tightly and whispered, "You'll be fine. You're stronger than you think."

Sanjana sat in the back of the decorated SUV, red bangles clinking softly as she wiped her eyes. Ajaysat beside her, silent but attentive. Pooja joined them too, while Vijay took the front passenger seat.

As the car began to move, Sanjana continued to cry quietly, tears tracing lines down her already faded makeup. Vijayhanded her a tissue from the front seat and joked, "Hey now, we're not that bad. We're not kidnapping you, you know."

That made Sanjana smile through her tears, just a little.

Ajay gently took her hand, holding it with a kind of quiet assurance. She didn't pull away. She didn't need to.

She checked her phone. No new messages. Probably everyone at home was still busy seeing off guests, she thought.

As the journey continued, they began talking lightly, carefully. Pooja made jokes, Vijay added to them, and slowly Sanjana started to feel more at ease. She found herself laughing—just a little. Her laughter was soft, still cautious, but it was there.

Eventually, sleep took over. She leaned sideways and

rested her head on Ajay's shoulder. Her heavy lehenga, the tight jewellery, the long rituals—all of it had worn her out.

The two-hour drive from Manj*ri to Ghatpu**r passed in quiet comfort. Her tears had dried, her breath had slowed, and for the first time that night, her face wore a small smile again.

The new bride had arrived in her new city.

She was still tired, still anxious—but now, another thought began to float through her mind...

"What will happen tonight?"

As soon as Sanjana and Ajay arrived at the house, she was instantly surrounded by warmth, noise, and dozens of unfamiliar eyes. Everyone was looking at her—not just with curiosity, but with eager expectation. She could feel it on her skin.

Ajay's mother, Sarita, stood at the doorway with a shimmering Anjali plate.

The camphor flame flickered between them, lighting Ajay's calm eyes and Sanjana's nervous blush. After the Anjali, Suman asked Sanjana to knock over a small rice-filled pot with her right foot — a symbol of prosperity entering the home.

The sound of the pot gently toppling echoed in Sanjana's ears louder than it should have. Then came the red-water footprint ritual. She dipped her bare feet into the colored water and stepped onto white cloth laid across the floor,

leaving behind delicate stains that almost looked like petals blooming beneath her steps.

Every step forward felt like walking deeper into someone else's world — but also closer to her husband.

Inside the house, it was buzzing.

Ajay's cousins hovered around, stealing glances, cracking jokes, whispering just loud enough for her to hear.

"She's too pretty for him, no?" "Look how shy she is. Ajay's in trouble tonight."

Sanjana kept her head lowered, but a smile flickered at the corner of her lips.

She was taken to the home temple with Ajay, where they lit a small lamp together. His fingers brushed hers as they reached for the wick — and her breath caught, just a little. It was innocent. Brief. But it felt like the first real touch that meant something.

Soon after, the muh dikhayi began. One by one, women from the family sat around her, unveiling her face, admiring her features, and handing her jewellery, silks, and gifts. She heard whispers like "Her skin is like milk" and "Ajay got lucky."

Their compliments made her blush, but somewhere deep inside, they also stirred something unexpected.

A kind of pride.

A kind of... anticipation.

When Sanjana was asked to sit beside Ajay for the kangana ritual, the crowd leaned in. Their wrists were tied with red threads, and now the challenge was to untie each other, without breaking eye contact.

They sat facing one another, knees nearly touching, wrists bound.

He looked into her eyes. She looked down.

"Ready?" someone called.

Sanjana's fingers fumbled on his wrist, grazing his veins, his knuckles. He was warm. Steady. And close.

Too close.

Their wrists were undone, but something else between them tightened.

Everyone clapped. Laughed.

But Sanjana's thoughts had already wandered. Not to her sari. Not to the guests.

To the moment when the door would close... and it would be just the two of them.

Her fingers still tingled.

And night hadn't even begun.

After the kangana ritual, Pooja stood beside the couple, holding a thread tied with red and gold.

"You both have to untie this cloth knot. But Bhai, you can only use one hand. Sanjana, you may use both."

Sanjana smirked and replied, "No need, Didi. I'll do it with one hand, too."

Everyone around clapped and laughed.

"Oh ho!" Pooja exclaimed. "That's confidence! Bhai, you don't stand a chance."

Ajay struggled a bit with the knot, his single hand fumbling. Then Sanjana gave it a try, and with a few careful tugs, she untied the knot effortlessly. The whole room burst into applause, cheering for the new bride.

Next came the angoothi game. A silver ring was dropped into a wide brass plate filled with flower petals and colored water. Sanjana and Ajay had three chances to find the ring,

and the one who won the most rounds would be declared the winner.

Sanjana found the ring on all three tries.

"Bhai, it's official now," Pooja teased. "She's going to run the household."

More laughter followed as everyone showered Sanjana with praises and playful comments. The atmosphere was light, filled with songs, games, and warm laughter.

After dinner, the final family members filtered away, leaving only close relatives.

Pooja led Sanjana upstairs to a quiet, beautifully decorated room. Rose petals were scattered over the bed in the shape of a heart, and delicate lights glowed along the ceiling.

Sanjana knew—this was it—her wedding night room.

For now, the room was still buzzing with women and children who were teasing her relentlessly.

"You won't be sleeping tonight," Taiji said with a smirk. "Tonight's your real wrestling match!"

"She doesn't look sleepy at all," Chachi chimed in. "I think she's just waiting for Ajayto to come and all of us to leave."

"Are, look how nervous she is!" Taiji added. "Not everyone's as shameless as you. On your wedding night, the whole house stayed awake from the noise."

Chachi laughed. "It wasn't my fault! Your brother-in-law couldn't control himself."

Even Pooja blushed hearing her elders joke so freely.

"Okay enough," she interrupted, "Sanjana, don't worry. Your jiju will explain everything to Bhai."

Finally, Jijaji brought Ajay into the room, surrounded by

giggling cousins who refused to leave. They demanded a big gift from the groom.

After a little drama and negotiation, Pooja handed them ₹10,001 and got them out of the room.

On her way out, she leaned into Sanjana's ear and whispered, "There's milk on the side table. Give it to Bhai. And there's Vaseline in the drawer… just in case. All the best!"

Then, with a wink and a final giggle, she shut the door and locked it from outside.

Inside, it was finally just the two of them.

Ajay locked the door from the inside, too. Sanjana sat quietly at the corner of the bed, her eyes lowered.

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The night... had truly begun

Ajay wore a white designer kurta-pyjama.

She was still fully dressed—heavy saree, jewellery, and nervous energy.

Neither of them said anything at first.

But the room was quiet now.

And the night... had truly begun.

Ajay closed the door, his gaze locking on Sanjana in the dim glow. "Hi," he whispered, voice thick with anticipation.

"Hi," she replied softly, fingers tracing her heavy bangles, a nervous thrill pulsing through her.

"They're finally gone. Long day, right?" He lingered by the door, eyes warm, testing the air between them.

"Yeah," she nodded, her breath catching, the wedding's weight settling in.

"You look worn out. Need help with your jewellery? Might feel good to shed it," he offered, his smile easing her tension. Sanjana's heart raced—he's moving fast—but his warmth steadied her.

"Okay," she agreed, slipping off her earrings. The necklace clasp stuck, and she glanced back. "Ajay, can you get this?"

He moved to the bed, sitting behind her, fingers brushing her neck. Her skin was smooth, radiant in the moonlight, and his cool touch sparked a shiver. The necklace fell away, and he paused, waiting for her cue.

"Thanks," she murmured, bolder now. "Hairpins too?"

"Absolutely," he said, freeing each pin. Her silky hair tumbled free, its jasmine scent pulling him closer.

He marvelled at its softness, a quiet thrill stirring—this is mine now. Sanjana felt lighter, shedding her bangles and forehead ornament, scooting back to face him.

Ajay's eyes roamed—her full cheeks, curves that ignited his pulse. She was stunning, beyond any photo he'd seen. She caught his stare, teasing, "What's got you so hooked?"

He grinned, blushing. "You're my wife. Hard to believe."

She laughed, soft but vibrant. "Feels like a dream, doesn't it?"

She'd made him promise before the wedding to call her by name-no no ji or suno, too old-fashioned for her twenty-three years. At twenty-eight, he adored her spark, five years younger but bold in her way.

As they sat, the air thick with promise, Sanjana's thoughts swirled. She craved more than this night's rush—a deeper connection, a spark to match the fire she'd imagined.

Her heart flickered with longing, hoping their first night would kindle something lasting.

Sanjana caught Ajay's intense stare, her lips curving into a teasing smile. "What's got you so hooked?"

He grinned, a flush creeping up his face. "Just… can't believe you're my wife now."

Her laugh was soft, but her mind raced, unsure how to reply. "I can't believe I'm married either. I mean, we're married," she corrected, her voice tinged with nervous excitement.

Ajay leaned closer, his voice a low murmur. "You know what tonight's for, right? What are we meant to do?" His eyes held hers, warm but searching.

Her cheeks burned, and she played innocent, batting her lashes. "No clue. Enlighten me." A giggle betrayed her nerves.

"Don't lie," he teased, his grin widening. "Your bhabhi must've spilt everything."

She shot him a mock glare. "Calling me a liar already?"

Ajay's eyes widened, flustered. "No, I didn't mean—!"

Her laughter rang out, cutting him off. "I'm teasing, relax. You're probably just as clued in." She nodded toward a glass of milk on the table. "Your sister left that. Drink it if you want."

Sanjana's heart skipped—did I sound too eager? She worried he'd think she was pushing for more. Ajay's pulse

Quickened—I want this, I've waited—but he kept it cool. "Yeah, I'll take it," he said, grabbing the glass.

After a couple of sips, he paused, offering it. "Sure, you don't want some?"

"Nope, all yours," she said, waving it off.

He downed the milk, its warmth fuelling the fire in his

chest, and turned to her, his gaze burning. The room felt alive, electric with anticipation. He'd never been this close to anyone, and the weight of the night—his desires, the expectations of those outside—pressed heavy ascites.

Sanjana broke the silence, her voice soft but steady. "We could just talk tonight, you know."

"Definitely," he said, sliding closer, his heart pounding. Her words were gentle, but her eyes held a spark of longing, a craving for a connection deeper than the night's

Rush. She wanted more than tradition—she wanted a fire that would linger.

Ajay slid beside Sanjana, his pulse quickening as her voice filled the room. She dove into wedding stories, her words vibrant, spilling out like a river despite the late hour. He summoned his nerve, taking her hand, its softness igniting a thrill as he traced slow, deliberate patterns.

 He couldn't pull away, though her tales stretched on, endless.

A yawn slipped through, her eyes heavy in the chilly air. Ajay stood, draping a quilt over the bed, then flicked off the light, leaving only moonlight to cradle them. He slipped beneath the covers, their feet grazing, a spark that jolted Sanjana awake, her drowsiness scattering.

In the dark, Ajay's boldness stirred. He pressed closer, his toes nudging hers, a silent claim. Perhaps the milk, laced with tradition's warmth, fueled his courage. He pulled her

Into his arms, his lips grazing her cheek in a soft kiss, drawing her close. His leg slid over hers, easing her beneath him in a swift, fluid motion that left Sanjana breathless, her mind reeling, sleep long gone.

His kisses drifted to her lips, hungry yet careful, his hand gliding over her waist. Her skin was impossibly soft, fanning his desire. Sanjana closed her eyes, kissing him back with a tentative heat, her pulse racing.

Her fingers clutched the sheets, anchoring her in the whirlwind of his touch.

Her scent, her warmth, drove Ajaywild. He lifted her gently, tugging her saree free, letting it pool aside. His lips returned, fiercer now, trailing her cheeks, her mouth, a fire building between them. Sanjana's breath hitched, her grip tightening on the sheets, a rush of heat mingling with a quiet longing. She craved more—a spark to match the fire she'd dreamed of—her heart yearning for a deeper dance as their bodies pressed closer.

Ajay's lips pressed against Sanjana's, his voice a husky whisper. "Sanjana… your lips are so soft." His kisses surged, her mouth yielding, soft moans escaping as her senses swirled.

His hands roamed her body, hungry yet careful, unfastening her blouse and petticoat. In only her bra and panties, Sanjana lay beneath him, his lips trailing her throat, grazing the edge of her bra, igniting sparks.

Gentle gasps broke from her, her voice trembling with desire. Ajay stripped off his kurta and pyjama, pulling her into his arms, his desire blazing. He fought to slow himself, his excitement threatening to overtake him.

Sanjana's heart thundered, stirred by Ajay's sudden fervour, the quiet man now a storm of need. Her breaths came fast, a quiet moan escaping, her thoughts tangled with anticipation and a craving for a deeper flame to match her dreams.

Ajay gently eased away the last of their garments, their bodies drawing close in the moonlight's tender embrace. Sanjana's heart raced, her senses overwhelmed by the swiftness of his touch, the once-quiet Ajay now a tide of longing. Her breaths came fast, a mix of anticipation and uncertainty swirling within her.

He guided her gently, his movements tentative in the soft shadows. Sanjana's pulse quickened, her hands finding his, offering a quiet reassurance to guide him.

A soft sigh escaped her lips, her body trembling under the weight of the moment. As they moved closer, a fleeting sting caught her breath, a sharp gasp breaking free, quickly softening into warmth. Her grip tightened, anchoring her to him, a flicker of nervousness giving way to trust.

Their connection deepened, a tender dance of closeness and discovery. Sanjana's heart pounded, her thoughts adrift, hoping for a spark to match the night's promise, yet sensing the rush of the moment might leave it unfulfilled.

Ajay tugged Sanjana's panties down, shedding his own, their bare skin pressed tight in a fevered tangle. Sanjana's heart thundered, stunned by his sudden fervour, the quiet Ajay now a storm of need. Her breaths came fast, sweat beading despite the chill, her mind reeling at the swiftness of their intimacy.

He parted her thighs gently, seeking her in the dark, his movements uncertain. She felt him, warm and eager, brushing against her, drawing a soft moan from her lips.

Her bhabhi's words echoed—sometimes men need guidance—and with a trembling hand, she guided him, noting his arousal, modest yet fervent, barely longer than her palm.

His touch pressed closer, teasing her entrance, her moans mingling with tension. Her hands gripped his tightly, anchoring her. With a gentle thrust, he entered her, a sharp gasp breaking free as a fleeting pain flared. Her bhabhi's warning—first times could bring blood—stirred a pang of

Fear, tears welling briefly as a faint warmth spread. Sanjana clung to him, her body trembling, the sting softening, but her heart yearning for a deeper flame to kindle beyond the rush.

In the dark, Ajay pressed deeper, unaware of Sanjana's fleeting distress, his rhythm driven by fervour. A sharp pain gripped her, her gasp turning to a soft moan as she clung to him, her legs lifting to wrap around him, seeking solace in their closeness. Her hands gripped his tightly, her body tense, the sting lingering as tears pricked her eyes.

The moment surged forward, Ajay's breaths growing ragged. With a final, fervent thrust, he shuddered, collapsing against her, spent. Sanjana felt a warm rush within, his release clear, but her desire remained unkindled, a faint warmth only just beginning to stir. Her mind reeled—was this all? The pleasure she'd dreamed of slipped away, leaving her unsatisfied, though the intensity had sparked a fleeting thrill.

Their breaths slowed, the air settling. Ajay rose, slipping to the bathroom, startled by traces of blood but reassured by his sister-in-law's words—it was normal, a sign of her purity. He cleaned himself, dressed, and returned, changing the sheet and spreading a fresh quilt. Sanjana followed, tending to herself, a dull ache lingering below. She slid beside him, the covers warm.

Ajay's heart soared, proud of their union. He took her hand, voice tender. "Sanjana, we're one now. I hope it was good for you."

She smiled faintly, hiding her face in his chest, her thoughts adrift. The night had been intense, but too swift, leaving her craving a deeper flame. She wondered if more might come later. Ajay held her close, and soon, sleep claimed them, their embrace a spark for nights to come.

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A New Morning, A New Life

Priya's eyes fluttered open to the sound of voices outside.

For a moment, she thought, "Why are mummy and bhabhi making so much noise? Who's visiting so early in the morning?"

And then it hit her — this wasn't her home anymore.

Her body ached in places she hadn't felt before.

She glanced at the clock. 9 AM.

Startled, she sat up quickly.

Ajay was still fast asleep, peaceful and unaware.

The memories of the night before came rushing back to her.

She felt a strange mix of emotions — pain, warmth, nervousness… and a slight irritation at having to now face unknown people.

She thought of waking Ajay, but seeing him sleeping so deeply, she let him be.

She stood up, glanced at herself in the mirror, adjusted her saree and messy hair, and quietly moved to unlock the door.

As soon as she touched the latch, the door swung open — someone had already unlatched it from the outside.

Three of Ajay's little cousins stood there, their eyes immediately locking onto her.

They giggled and whispered among themselves.

Priya felt the weight of their gazes, like the world was watching her.

Just then, Anamika walked up with a bright smile.

She pulled Priya into a hug and said softly,

"You're awake! I had opened the latch a few minutes ago… I hope I didn't disturb you two."

"No, didi… I just woke up," Priya replied shyly.

"You must be tired from the night," Anamika teased gently.

"So, how was everything? I hope Bhai didn't trouble you too much."

Priya dropped her gaze, cheeks turning pink.

What could she even say to that?

Anamika walked in and picked up the large bedsheet from the floor.

When she noticed the stain of blood, a knowing smile touched her lips.

It confirmed what she already knew — Priya's womanhood had crossed into a new beginning.

"You don't need to say a word, Priya. I can see everything," Anamika said warmly.

Her words stirred Ajay awake.

He sat up with a sleepy smile on his face.

"Look at that," Anamika teased, "Bhai is finally up. Priya has been waiting for you."

"We were really tired last night," Ajay yawned, "That's why we overslept."

Anamika winked at Priya.

"If you both want to rest some more, I can latch the door again from outside. No one will disturb you."

"No, no didi. We've had enough sleep," Priya replied quickly.

"Alright then, freshen up and come downstairs for breakfast.

Priya, your bhabhi was calling you. Talk to her when you're free."

Priya nodded.

Anamika left with the bedsheet and gently closed the door behind her.

"Good morning," Ajay said with a soft smile.

"Good morning," Priya replied.

Ajay looked at her, "Come here, na," he said, patting the space beside him on the bed.

"No, you go get ready. I'll talk to bhabhi," she said, avoiding eye contact.

"Talk to her later…" he started, but Priya silenced him by placing a finger on her lips.

She whispered, "Your cousins are right outside. Please, go get ready."

Just as she said that, the door flung open, and one of the boys stumbled inside, trying to eavesdrop.

He burst out laughing and ran off before Ajay could scold him.

Ajay grunted and walked into the bathroom.

Priya half-closed the door and dialled her bhabhi.

"Hello, bhabhi!"

Her voice trembled — part joy, part tears.

"Pari… how are you, my child?" came the warm voice from the other end.

Tears spilt from Priya's eyes.

"I'm okay… How is everyone? I miss you so much."

Her bhabhi took a moment to control her emotions, too.

"You little drama queen! I know you've already forgotten us," she teased lovingly.

"But tell me, everything's fine, right?"

"Yes… Everything is fine."

"How was last night?"

"It was… okay."

"Okay? So it happened?"

"…Yes. It happened."

"It didn't hurt too much, did it? When you visit, you'll have to tell me everything in detail."

"There was some pain… but it was okay. Maybe it ended too soon…"

"That's normal, sweetie. It was your first time.

And I'm sure you looked so beautiful.

Here, mummy wants to talk to you."

Priya spoke to a few more family members and felt a little lighter.

She hadn't realised how much she needed to hear their voices.

When she looked up, Anamika was standing at the door again.

Priya hadn't even noticed her come in.

Anamika: "Did you talk to them, Priya? Everything okay?"

Anamika: "I know you're close to your bhabhi. But you can always share things with me, too."

Priya: "Yes, didi."

Anamika: "Is there anything about last night that you want to talk about?"

Priya didn't quite understand what Anamika was trying to ask.

Priya: "No, didi… nothing like that."

Anamika: "Alright. Whenever you feel like it, you can tell me."

Just then, Ajay stepped out after his shower. He had a towel wrapped around his waist and a vest on top. For the first time, Priya saw him clearly in daylight without a shirt. He wasn't overweight, but he didn't have a sculpted body either—probably never been to a gym. There was some hair on his chest. Priya tried hard not to look at him directly in front of Anamika.

In that brief moment, a thought passed through her mind—she had agreed to this marriage because her family wanted it, but maybe he wasn't the man of her dreams. She quickly brushed the thought aside, picked up her clothes, and went to shower. She wore a purple and brown saree and added a bit of jewellery again. She looked adorably pretty.

Downstairs, Priya joined them for breakfast. Ajay and Anamika were already waiting; Ajay had even started eating. That felt a little awkward to her. Most of the wedding guests had left by now. Apart from Ajay and Anamika's parents, only Ajay's aunt and her son were still around. Ajay's brother-in-law wasn't in sight either.

Priya bent down to touch her in-laws' feet, and her mother-in-law hugged her. Then she came to the dining table, where Anamika brought her breakfast.

Anamika: "Priya, you already know Chachi. And this naughty one here is Daksh, the youngest in the family and the most mischievous!"

Daksh smiled mischievously, "First of all, didi, I'm not a kid. And second, I'm sure bhabhi knows all of us by now!"

Priya looked at him. She had seen his face during the wedding functions, but couldn't remember his name—after all, there were so many people. Still, she responded playfully.

Priya: "Hmm... of course, I remember you, Daksh. You were the one I asked for water yesterday, and you never got it!"

Everyone burst out laughing.

Daksh: "Bhabhi, your memory's a little off. That didn't happen. Or maybe you've forgotten what happened."

Priya: "So now you're saying bhabhi is wrong?"

Daksh: "Not saying that—maybe you were tired and forgot."

Priya blushed. A thought crossed her mind—just yesterday, she used to tease her bhabhi, and now, she was someone's bhabhi, getting teased. Then she remembered—Daksh was the one standing at the door this morning with a few other teenagers. He was also the one who opened the door loudly. She made a mental note: I'll get back at him for that.

Chachi: "Finish your breakfast and stop troubling your bhabhi."

Chachi (to Priya): "Now that you're here, get ready. This boy and his gang are going to tease you a lot."

Suman (Mummy): "Daksh has already started teasing her. Oh, that reminds me—your neem-stick ritual is still pending!"

Priya: "Neem-stick? What's that?"

Suman: "It's a fun ritual between the devar and bhabhi. You both hit each other playfully with neem branches."

Priya: "What? We hit each other?"

Chachi: "Softly, not too hard. It's meant to strengthen the love between devar and bhabhi."

Daksh: "I'm not playing softly!"

Chachi gave him a gentle smack on the back. "Why are you scaring your bhabhi?"

Priya gave Daksh a sharp look as if saying, Just wait and watch.

After breakfast, everyone gathered in the courtyard. Ajay's cousin sisters also joined. Both Daksh and Priya were handed a neem twig. Daksh's stick had more leaves, and Priya's was a little longer.

Daksh: "Her stick is longer. This is unfair!"

Anamika: "What, are you scared now?"

Daksh: "Who's scared? Let's go!"

They stood face-to-face as the family circled them. Slowly, they began circling each other, eyes locked. Priya thought, If only I were wearing jeans instead of a saree, I could've easily beaten him. Daksh made the first move, but Priya dodged quickly. It was like this game brought out a new energy in her. While dodging, she hit him hard on the leg.

Daksh didn't cry out, but Priya knew it must have hurt. His group had already switched sides and were now cheering for Bhabhi. Daksh tried hitting her hand, but her heavy saree protected her. Priya countered with another hit—this time squarely on his thigh. He made a face in pain, but still didn't let out a sound. Priya smiled widely—That's for slamming the door in the morning!

Daksh finally landed a hit on her foot. Priya couldn't avoid it—it stung, and she let out a sharp yelp. Anamika and Chachi were about to stop the game when Priya, not willing to give up, struck Daksh one last time—hard—on his leg again.

Everyone clapped for Priya while Daksh's cousins teased him. Daksh limped toward a chair. Anamika lifted Priya's saree a little to check her foot—there was a red mark.

Anamika: "Daksh! Who hits their bhabhi so hard?"

Daksh didn't reply, but Priya started to feel bad. She had hit him three times, and all of them were strong hits.

Priya: "Didi, I'm okay. It's just a small bruise. Daksh, are you alright?"

Chachi: "Don't worry about him. You gave him a proper beating today! We've all wanted that for a long time."

Daksh (smiling): "All good. Well played! Don't worry, bhabhi, next time I'll win."

After the game, Anamika applied some cream to Priya's foot. Everyone sat down again, chatting and laughing.

A little while later, Ajay said, "Mummy, I'll have to leave in three days. That's how long my leave is."

Suman: "Can't you stay another week?"

Ajay: "It's a private bank job, not a government one. If I don't return on time, I might lose it."

Priya's heart filled with questions. Will I go with him? What's that city like? But this didn't feel like the right place to ask.

Suman: "You should've taken Priya somewhere for a trip."

Ajay: "We'll go later, mummy."

Suman: "Priya, let him go. You stay here with us. We'll go out and have fun."

Priya's face fell. She didn't know what to say. Why should I stay back without him?

Ajay: "Yes, you all keep Priya with you."

Priya looked at him with disbelief—What are you saying? I want to be with you.

Suman: "Priya, go unpack your things and help Ajay pack his."

Priya: "Yes, mummy ji," she replied softly and followed Ajay to the room with a heavy heart.

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As soon as they reached the room, she asked, upset, "You're thinking of leaving me here?"

Ajay: "Yes. What will you do there? It's better here. There's no one in that city—you'll get bored."

Priya: "But… you'll be there."

Ajay: "I'll be busy from morning till night. How will you manage alone?"

Priya: "Then why didn't you tell me earlier that you won't take me with you?"

Tears began to fall from Priya's eyes. It felt like her husband was going to leave her behind, and she didn't know how she'd stay without him.

Ajay came closer and gently held her.

Ajay: "Don't cry. Listen… I'm living in a shared apartment right now. That's why I can't take you just yet. Give me a month or two. I'll find a place of our own and then bring you there."

Priya was still crying. Ajay hugged her.

Ajay: "And besides… mummy will get time to spend with her new bahu."

She slowly calmed down and wiped her tears.

Priya: "Okay… but just 1–2 months. No more than that. Promise?"

Ajay kissed her forehead.

Ajay: "Promise. I can't stay away from you for long anyway. But listen… forget the packing. Let's do something else…"

Priya understood his tone.

Priya: "No, not now. I have a lot of things to do. Besides, this is your punishment for planning to leave me here."

Ajay (grinning): "That's a big punishment!"

Priya playfully pushed him back, "Fits the crime! Now let me work. Go, or your family will start wondering."

Ajay: "Okay, okay," he said, walking out of the room with a smile.

Priya then opened her suitcase and took out her clothes, arranging them in the wardrobe. She also took out the bag with wedding gifts and kept it aside. After one or two hours, she picked up the heavy gift bag and headed downstairs. On the stairs, she saw Daksh coming up. Daksh was quite young and handsome, maybe 19-20 years old. He was wearing a stylish t-shirt and jeans, and his hair was slightly messy but still looked stylish.

Seeing Priya carrying the heavy bag, Daksh said, "Bhabhi, leave it, I'll carry it. Where do you need to take it?"

Priya said, "No, you let it be. Your leg got hurt, didn't it?"

Pretending not to know, Daksh said, "When? Oh, that… that was nothing. I should apologise to you. Anamika di told me there was a mark on your foot."

Priya said, "I'm fine. I'm the one who's sorry, you got hit three times hard, didn't you? That's why I won't make you do any work today. Otherwise, you'll complain about me to everyone."

Daksh snatched the bag from Priya's hand and said, "You don't know me yet. Alright, let me carry this bag today, and if I ever need help, you help me. Done?"

Priya said, "Sure, done!"

Daksh and Priya came downstairs, and Priya gave the bag to Ajay's mother. Priya then stood in the kitchen, watching her cook and chatting with her. Daksh was standing nearby, occasionally throwing comments to tease Priya. Priya wasn't one to back down and gave him full replies.

In the evening, Vijay Jiju came home and joined the group. Vijay and Daksh were trying to tease Priya together. At first, Chachi and Anamika supported Priya, but then they switched sides and started teasing her too. Priya looked to Ajay for support, but he was quietly smiling, not taking any side. In the conversation, Priya learned that Daksh's father worked in Dubai, and Chachi and Daksh lived in this house. Chachi's room was downstairs, and Daksh's room was upstairs, next to Priya's. When Priya found out, she understood the secret behind Daksh's laughter from the previous day.

After eating, the neighbours went home. Priya came to her room with Ajay. Priya started feeling nervous again about what would happen that night. She probably wasn't ready for sex again.

Priya placed her pillow at the very corner of the bed and lay under the blanket. Ajay turned off the light and came to bed. Under the blanket, Ajay reached out and held Priya's hand.

Ajay said, "It's chilly, isn't it?"

Pushing his hand back, Priya said, "I told you during the day that you'd stay away from me."

Priya felt good taking charge of Ajay on the second day. She had never spoken so sternly to anyone. She turned her back on Ajay and lay down, smiling. She thought Ajay would try to convince her, but Ajay quietly sulked and closed his eyes. After three to four minutes, when Priya turned to look, Ajay was asleep. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, trying to sleep.

The next morning, there were fewer people at home. Daksh had gone to college, and the remaining relatives had left too. Anamika had gone to her in-laws' house, but she didn't live far, and Ajay's mother told Priya she'd return in the evening. Ajay was watching a match on TV, and Ajay's father was busy reading the newspaper. Priya called her bhabhi and told her everything that had happened so far. She also talked about Daksh, how she got a naughty brother-in-law. And then, troubled, she told her about Ajay leaving alone. Her bhabhi explained that it was just for a month or two, and she should adjust.

By evening, the house was bustling again. Everyone was playing antakshari. Priya seemed to remember all the songs from every movie. Seeing her sing, everyone was impressed by her voice. Daksh pretended to copy her voice and sang off-key, so Priya jokingly slapped him a slap.

"You want to get hit by me again?" Priya said.

Daksh said, "Go ahead, hit me. Your hands are so soft, it won't even hurt."

Over there, Anamika and Chachi were trying to tease Priya by singing double-meaning songs.

Chachi said, "Sarkai lo khatiya jaada lage, jade mein balma pyara lage…"

Anamika said, "Princess, what all happened after marriage, who lost, who won…"

Seeing them, Daksh started too, "In the night, no control, what to do, say something…"

Priya's cheeks were already red with embarrassment, but as soon as Daksh started singing, Priya lightly hit his shoulder and gestured for him to be quiet. Like this, the sweet banter went on for a long time.

After dinner, when Priya reached the room, Ajay was packing his last bag. Priya remembered that Ajay was leaving tomorrow, and she felt sad again. After lying on the bed, Ajay turned his back to Priya. Priya felt she shouldn't let him go like this.

She slid close to Ajay and hugged him from behind. Ajay was surprised by the hug, too, but didn't want to miss the chance. He turned and looked into Priya's lovely eyes and started kissing her cheeks. Priya didn't say anything and closed her eyes.

Ajay was so eager for all this that he couldn't stop himself. He quickly pulled off Priya's saree and lifted her petticoat, sliding her panties down. Two days ago, in nervousness and darkness, he hadn't noticed, but Priya's lower area seemed hairless. Maybe she'd waxed it before the wedding. And her pink pussy looked just like an English girl's.

Ajay got even more excited seeing this and took off all his clothes. Priya brought her hands down and tried to cover herself. Ajay held her hands with his and started opening her legs with his. He lay on top of Priya, and this time his cock found her pussy easily. Kissing Ajay Priya's neck, he inserted his cock into her pussy.

Priya was less scared than the first time, and as the cock entered, she lifted her hips. She was moaning softly and freed her hands to hug Ajay tightly. Ajay was moving in and out while hugging her. Priya was also moving her body. But after a few strokes, Ajay slowed down and released his load inside Priya.

Priya was still holding him tightly and moving her body toward him. As soon as she felt the load inside, she knew Ajay was done. Kissing her, Ajay said, "I love you."

Priya said softly, too, "Me too."

Ajay then got up and went to the bathroom, and Priya lay on the bed. She thought maybe it lasted a bit longer than that day, and it felt a bit better, too. But she still felt incomplete. Soon after, they both fell into deep sleep.

Priya opened her suitcase, took out clothes, and placed them in the wardrobe. She kept the wedding gift bag aside. After one or two hours, she carried the heavy bag downstairs. She saw Daksh coming up, young, handsome, about 19-20, in a stylish t-shirt and jeans, hair messy but stylish.

"Bhabhi, leave it, I'll carry it. Where to?" Daksh said.

"No, your leg's hurt," Priya said.

"When? That was nothing. I should apologise—Anamika di said your foot got a mark."

"I'm fine," Priya said. "I'm sorry, you got hit three times, right? No work today, or you'll complain."

Daksh took the bag. "You don't know me. Let me carry this, and if I need help, you help. Done?"

"Done!" Priya said.

They went downstairs. Priya gave the bag to Ajay's mother, then stood in the kitchen, watching her cook and talking. Daksh, nearby, teased her, and Priya replied fully. Evening, Vijay Jiju came, joining the teasing. Chachi and Anamika first supported Priya, then teased her. Priya looked at Ajay, but he smiled, neutral. She learned Daksh's father worked in Dubai, and Chachi and Daksh lived here—Daksh's room next to hers. She understood his laugh from yesterday.

After dinner, the neighbours left. Priya went to her room with Ajay, nervous about the night. She wasn't ready for sex again. She put her pillow in the bed's corner and lay under the blanket. Ajay turned off the light, lay down, and held her hand.

"It's cold," Ajay said.

"I said, stay away," Priya said, pushing his hand. She felt good being strict, never so firm before. She turned, smiling, expecting Ajay to persuade her. But Ajay closed his eyes. Three-four minutes later, Priya saw that he was asleep. She sighed and tried to sleep.

Morning, fewer people at home. Daksh was at college, relatives were gone. Anamika went to her in-laws but would return. Ajay watched TV; his father read. Priya called her sister-in-law, telling her about Daksh's mischief and Ajay leaving. "It's a month or two, adjust," she said.

Evening, the house was lively. They played antakshari. Priya knew every movie song, impressing all. Daksh sang off-key, copying her. "Want to get hit again?" Priya said.

"Hit me, your hands are soft," Daksh said. Chachi and Anamika sang teasing songs:

Chachi: "Slide closer, the bed feels good, my love feels sweet in winter…"

Anamika: "Rukmani, what happened after marriage, who won, who lost…"

Daksh sang: "At night, no control, what to do, say something…"

Priya, blushing, tapped Daksh's shoulder to quiet him. The banter went on.

After dinner, Priya reached the room. Ajay packed his last bag. Priya remembered he'd leave tomorrow, feeling sad. In bed, Ajay turned away. Priya hugged him from behind. Ajay, surprised, turned, kissed her cheeks. Priya closed her eyes.

Ajay, eager, pulled off her saree, lifted her petticoat, and slid her panties down. Two days ago, in the dark, he hadn't noticed, but Priya's lower area was hairless, maybe waxed before the wedding. Her pink vagina looked like an English girl's. Ajay, excited, removed his clothes. Priya tried to cover herself. Ajay held her hands, opened her legs with his, and lay on her. His penis found her vagina easily. Kissing her neck, he inserted it.

Priya was less scared, lifting her hips as he entered, moaning softly. She freed her hands, hugging Ajay. Ajay moved in and out, and Priya moved too. After a few strokes, Ajay slowed, releasing inside her. Priya held him, moving closer. Feeling his release, she knew he was done. Ajay kissed her, saying, "I love you."

"Me too," Priya said softly.

Ajay went to the bathroom. Priya lay there, thinking it lasted longer, felt better, but she felt incomplete. Soon, they slept deeply.

More Than Just a Favour

The next day, all preparations for Ajay's departure were complete. As soon as the taxi arrived outside, Daksh placed the bags inside, and Ajay touched his parents' feet before sitting in the car. He didn't even look properly at Priya, let alone say goodbye. He had kissed her goodbye earlier in the room that morning, but Priya still hoped he'd say something again before leaving.

Ajay's father and Daksh went with him to the station. Around the same time, Anamika also left for her in-laws' house. She hugged Priya and advised her not to feel sad.

Once everyone had left, Priya went back to her room, lay on the bed, and started crying. She couldn't understand how she was going to live without Ajay. Crying, she eventually fell asleep without realising that two hours had passed. When she woke up, she washed her face and went downstairs.

Downstairs, she saw that Daksh had also returned from the station. Priya joined her mother-in-law and aunt in the kitchen to help. The next few days passed in a similar routine — she woke up, got ready, and helped with household chores. By afternoon, Daksh would return from college, filling the house with laughter, and by evening, someone or the other would drop by, making the evenings cheerful and fun.

But the nights were the hardest. Priya had to sleep alone, and that's when memories of Ajay hit her the most. She would call Ajay and talk for a while about her day. He would also tell her about his work and sometimes flirt with her sexually. To tease him, Priya would let out soft moans on the phone. But even after the call ended, the night felt long and lonely, and to calm herself, she would touch herself in bed.

Within 4–5 weeks, Priya and Daksh had developed a deep friendship. She found herself waiting eagerly for him to return from college every day, and once he was back, they would either play cards, joke around, or tease each other like old friends. Their bond reminded Priya of her brother-in-law, and it helped fill that missing space in her heart. Daksh also took care of her like a true brother-in-law. Every day, he brought her something from outside and even argued with his mom and aunt just to keep Priya away from kitchen chores. But Priya also enjoyed fighting with him.

Aunt: "Priya, this boy never brings anything for us, but look what a charm you've worked on him! Now it's your job to handle him and even find a girl for him."

Priya: "Of course! So Daksh, what kind of girl do you want?"

Daksh: "You think I'll get married?"

Priya: "Even I used to say that in my house, and look what happened — I got married!"

Daksh: "Yeah, but I'm not crazy like you."

Both Priya and the aunt playfully hit him on the shoulder.

Daksh: "Okay, if you have to find someone, find someone like you. Do you have a younger sister?"

Priya: "Yes! I have a cousin who looks exactly like me."

Daksh (thinking): "No, that won't work… No one can be like you."

Just then, the aunt walked away, and Daksh leaned closer.

Daksh: "Bhabhi, I need to talk to you about something."

Priya: "Yes, tell me."

Daksh: "You won't tell anyone, right?"

Priya: "Our secret? Never."

Daksh: "There's a girl in college I like… but she doesn't even notice me."

Priya: "Ooooh, what's her name? Show me a photo! And how can anyone say no to you?"

Daksh: "Her name is Neelam. And she's already saying no. But I have an idea."

Priya: "What idea?"

Daksh: "I want to make her jealous. Then maybe she'll see me differently. I know deep down she likes me."

Priya had done this kind of thing for her friends back in college.

Priya: "It's a good idea. Do you have a girl who can help you with this?"

Daksh: "Only one person comes to mind… You."

Priya: "Me?! No way! Anyone will catch us in a second."

Daksh: "Why would they? You still look like a college student, and none of my friends have met you."

Priya: "You're going to get me in trouble. What if someone at home finds out?"

Daksh: "No one will find out. Please, Bhabhi, there's no one else I trust."

Priya: "No, please understand—"

Daksh: "You promised the day you hit me that you'd help me."

Priya could see that Daksh was emotionally manipulating her — something she had done herself many times in the past. Still, she couldn't say no to him.

Priya: "Okay, but just once. And no one in the house should ever find out."

Daksh: "You're the best, Bhabhi!" he said as he playfully pinched her cheek.

Then they started planning how to pull it off. The plan was simple: Daksh would take Priya out for a few hours and act like they were a couple in front of his college. Priya packed an extra outfit in Daksh's bag for the change.

Two or three days later, the plan went into motion.

Priya: "Mummy ji, I need to buy some sandals. I thought Daksh could take me to the market."

Suman: "Sure, beta. I can also come if you want."

Daksh: "Then you take her. I'm not going."

Priya: "No, he's taking me."

Suman: "Okay, fine. Show her the best markets."

Daksh: "Only because you're saying so…"

And with that, Priya left on Daksh's bike. She hadn't seen much of the city before, so it felt exciting. The most difficult part was changing clothes. Daksh took her to a mall where she changed in the restroom.

When Priya came out in a black dress, Daksh couldn't take his eyes off her.

She looked exactly like a college girl — unbelievably cute and pretty. She looked beautiful even in sarees, but in this dress, she looked magical. Daksh seemed completely lost for a moment.

Priya: "What happened? Let's go! Take my saree and put it in your bag. We'll change here again before going home. It might be tricky, but we'll manage."

Daksh: "Yes, let's go."

As soon as the bike stopped in front of the college, Daksh glanced back — and his eyes accidentally landed on Priya's fair legs. Her light pink dress had slightly lifted, revealing a small old bruise, probably the one he had unintentionally given her some time ago.

Priya placed her hand gently on his shoulder, holding on softly. That one touch… it wasn't just for balance — there was an unexpected closeness in it.

Daksh's mind was somewhere else completely. His focus kept drifting between her dress, her legs, and the warmth of her touch. Somehow, he managed to get to the college gate without losing control, and then they both waited outside for Neelam to come out.

After a few minutes, Neelam stepped out. Daksh subtly nodded toward her to let Priya know who she was.

Priya looked at her carefully. She did resemble Priya a little — silky hair, slightly chubby cheeks, a slim waist… but not quite as beautiful.

As Neelam walked toward them, Priya quietly slid her hand into Daksh's. Their fingers intertwined naturally. Daksh tightened his grip slightly — her hands were incredibly soft.

Neelam noticed them and came closer.

Neelam: "Hi Daksh."

Daksh: "Hi Neelam, how are you?"

Neelam: "Good. Who's this? I haven't seen her before."

Daksh: "This is Riya, my girlfriend. She's not from this college."

Neelam (a bit surprised): "Oh… girlfriend? I didn't know you had one."

Daksh (with a light smirk): "Yeah, look at her… she's just amazing, right?"

Priya: "Hi, you're Neetu, right?"

Neelam gave her a sharp look and replied curtly:

Neelam: "It's Neelam, not Neetu. So… how long have you two been together?"

Daksh: "Just a month or two. But it feels like we've known each other forever."

Neelam (with raised eyebrows): "So… just good friends or something more…?"

So, Daksh grabs Priya's face, pulls her toward him, kisses her cheeks, and says, "Yeah, we're good friends!"

Priya's shocked. This kiss wasn't part of the deal at all. But she slaps on a smile to hide her surprise.

Neelam's super pissed about the kiss. "Okay, bye, I gotta go," she says, walking off angry. She can't believe Daksh made a prettier girl his girlfriend. Neelam kept Daksh hanging 'cause she knew she was the hottest in college. But Daksh, the smartest guy around, probably isn't hers anymore.

After Neelam leaves, Daksh and Priya head to his bike. Priya's mad as hell—Daksh kissed her without saying a word. She doesn't hold onto him on the bike, and just past college, she starts laying into him on the road.

"Why'd you kiss me? That wasn't in the plan."

"Sorry, Bhabhi, it just happened," Daksh says. "But Neelam's face was something else, wasn't it?"

"You could've told me if you were gonna do that."

"Bhabhi, it wasn't planned, honest. You grabbed my hand, too, right?"

"That's a different thing. Come on, let's get to the mall."

Daksh's acting all cool, but inside, he's still feeling Priya's soft cheeks on his lips and her soft hand in his. Those things won't leave his head. At the mall, Priya goes to the washroom to change. But putting on a saree there's tough—if she drops it, it'll get dirty. She texts Daksh: "Come inside, quick."

Daksh's like, what, the ladies' bathroom? He hesitates but goes in. Priya's in a stall, in her blouse and petticoat, saree half-tied, the rest in her hands. Her blouse shows her breast shape clearly. They're not too big but super well-shaped, firm but soft, like totally perfect.

"Listen, hold this saree, and I'll tie it slowly," Priya says.

"Okay," Daksh says, staring.

"Listen, look the other way, not at me," she says.

Daksh turns, but there's a mirror right there, and Priya's fully visible. She's busy tying her saree, not noticing he can see her in the reflection. Daksh's checking out her fair neck and the chest above her blouse. It's getting him a little turned on.

"Today, I helped you," Priya says. "But don't include me in your stupid ideas after this."

"Sorry, Bhabhi. You had some input in this plan, too, and I'm standing in a ladies' bathroom for you, right?"

Priya laughs a bit, but she's also mad. She controls herself, makes her saree pleats quickly, and fixes her hair in the mirror. She sees Daksh staring at her in the reflection and turns a bit, giving him a sharp look.

"Go outside now. Your job's done here."

Daksh, kinda embarrassed, heads out. Priya comes out soon, and they buy some stuff at the mall to show at home. On the way back, they don't say a single word.

That day, after getting home, Daksh and Priya didn't talk much. At night, Priya thought about what happened and figured Daksh kissed her to impress his girlfriend, so by morning, she let it go. Daksh was kinda normal the next day, but still a bit distant.