Fantasy Breastmilk tradition of Walvan
- Thread starterRajuWalvan
- Start date
- 13,918
Update 21
The golden hues of the evening filtered into Raju’s bedroom, casting soft shadows on the walls. He lay curled on his side, his face turned away, clutching the blanket tightly. His body was rigid, his breathing shallow, a testament to the emotional storm brewing within him.
Sujata stepped in first, her expression a mix of worry and determination. Gita and Prabha followed closely, their movements purposeful yet tender, as though trying not to disturb a fragile balance.
“Raju beta,” Sujata began softly, sitting near the foot of the bed. “What’s wrong? You’ve been like this all day, and we’re worried about you.”
Raju didn’t stir. His hands tightened around the blanket, his silence heavier than any words he could have spoken.
Gita knelt beside the bed, her green saree glinting softly in the fading light. “Raju,” she said gently, “we’re here because we care about you. Whatever’s troubling you, you don’t have to face it alone. We’re here for you, what happened with Sanjivani is not your fault. She would want you to feel loved.”
Prabha, ever serene, settled gracefully on the opposite side of the bed. Her maroon saree flowed around her like a river of silk. She leaned closer, her veiled face partially visible. “Beta,” she murmured, her tone imbued with quiet understanding, “it’s alright to feel hurt. Sometimes, sharing your pain can make it lighter. You can trust us.”
Raju’s body shifted slightly, but he remained silent. His face stayed buried in the pillow, his shoulders trembling faintly as though holding back tears.
Sujata reached out, her hand brushing lightly against his arm. “We just want you to feel better,” she said softly. “Whatever it takes, we’re here for you.”
Gita sighed quietly, her worry deepening. She adjusted her position, her saree slipping slightly off her shoulder as she leaned closer. “Raju,” she murmured, her voice low and coaxing, “let me help you relax. You don’t have to do anything—just let me care for you.”
With a flick of fingers, she unhooked her blouse, allowing her nipple to peek from her blouse. Her smooth, fair skin caught the soft light, her firm, rounded breasts now exposed. She cupped one breast gently, her pink, prominent nipple standing ready as she leaned over him.
She rested her free hand lightly on his shoulder, her touch tender but steady. Pressing her warm nipple softly against his lips, she whispered, “Come on, beta. Let me comfort you, just like she would.”
The warmth of her skin lingered, her soft breast brushing against his cheek. But Raju’s lips remained tightly closed. His hands clutched the blanket harder, his body stiffening further under her touch.
Prabha observed quietly, her serene presence undisturbed. She removed her blouse completely, revealing her perfectly round, full breasts. Her smooth, fair skin glowed softly, her puffy nipples prominent and inviting.
She leaned closer, her fingers brushing through Raju’s hair in slow, tender strokes. Her other hand cupped her breast, guiding it gently toward his lips. “Beta,” she said softly, “it’s all right. Let us take care of you. Sanjivani would want this for you.”
Prabha’s warm skin brushed against his lips as her red nipple pressed lightly against them. Her touch was reverent, her movements slow and deliberate. She kissed his temple softly, her lips lingering there as her hand cradled his head.
Raju remained unresponsive, his lips sealed, his face turning slightly further into the pillow.
From the doorway, Manisha had been watching quietly, her arms folded. She stepped forward, her expression firm but understanding. “Enough,” she said softly, her voice breaking the silence. “He doesn't want it. Let him take his time.”
As though responding to her voice, Raju’s hand suddenly emerged from beneath the blanket. He grasped Manisha’s wrist with surprising strength, his trembling fingers clutching her as though seeking an anchor.
Manisha knelt beside him, her free hand moving instinctively to cover his. His grip was tight, almost desperate, yet it spoke volumes.
Prabha, still close, leaned in again and kissed his cheek softly, her lips brushing against his warm skin. “It’s all right,” she whispered against his ear, her fingers stroking his hair gently. “Take your time, beta. We’re here for you.”
Raju’s grip on Manisha’s hand tightened briefly before loosening slightly. His body softened a little, the tension in his shoulders easing under their combined care.
Prabha pushed her loose breast in the blouse slowly, her movements slow hoping Raju would pounce to latch on to her. Gita followed suit, her hands brushing against her exposed breast before covering herself with a quiet sigh.
The women remained close, their presence a silent promise of unconditional love and care. Though Raju didn’t open his lips or speak, the subtle shifts in his body told them he felt their presence, their unyielding support, and their quiet assurance that he wasn’t alone.
The women gathered on the cushioned mats. Gita adjusted her saree, her fingers brushing absently over the edge of her blouse. Her fair skin glowed softly in the dim light as she sighed. “Raju is completely closed off,” she began, her voice tinged with both frustration and sadness. “I pressed my breast to his lips, stroked his cheeks, even whispered to him—but nothing. He just clung to the blanket tighter and turned further away.”
Manisha, seated cross-legged with her deep blue saree draped neatly, nodded thoughtfully. Her fingers traced the pleats of her saree as she spoke. “He’s not just distant,” she said quietly. “It’s like he’s built a wall around himself. Even when I tried to hold his hand, he barely reacted.”
Prabha, serene as always, sat gracefully at the edge of the group. Her body graceful as she adjusted her pallu over her veiled face. Her voice was soft yet firm. “He’s grieving in his own way,” she murmured. “He thinks he got Sanjivani’s in trouble, and he’s not ready to do it again.”
Gita leaned back against the wall, her dark eyes glinting with thoughtfulness. “I would love to feed him,” she admitted, her voice softening. “In another circumstance, I think he might have liked me—maybe even sought me out. But right now, he doesn’t even see me. He’s so lost in thoughts of her that nothing else seems to matter.”
Aarti, seated beside her in her bright yellow saree, rested her chin in her hand. “It’s hard to see him like this,” she said quietly. “He’s so different now. But Gita’s right—if he weren’t so consumed by Sanjivani, he’d probably be drawn to her. Who wouldn’t be?”
Prabha’s lips curved into a faint smile, and she adjusted her blouse as she spoke. Her fair fingers brushed lightly against the intricate blue and green veins that trailed across her skin, leading toward her dark, prominent nipple. “No man could resist me,” she said lightly, her tone carrying a mix of humor and quiet pride. “But Raju did. Even with my breast pressed to his lips, he stayed unmoving. If he really looks at me—sees the way my veins lead to my nipple—he’ll realize the beauty of what I’m offering. But he’s lost in thoughts of her. That’s all he sees right now.”
Sujata, seated at the edge of the group with her saree pleats neatly arranged, spoke with quiet resolve. “He needs time,” she said. “We can’t force him to open up. But we can’t ignore the others while we wait. Dadaji and Bhaiya won’t wait—they’ll demand attention.”
Gita adjusted her saree again, her fingers brushing against her shoulder. “Dadaji’s easy enough,” she said with a faint smirk. “He’s completely mesmerized by Prabha now. As long as she’s the one feeding him, he won’t even think to complain.”
Aarti chuckled softly. “She’s right, Prabha. Dadaji’s so smitten with you that he’ll do anything you say. It’s like he’s a boy meeting a goddess for the first time.”
Prabha’s cheeks flushed slightly, but her composure remained intact. “If it keeps him calm, I’ll manage him,” she said softly. “But he’ll have to come to my house. My husband and children can’t see this—he’ll have to wait until they leave in the morning.”
Gita laughed lightly, though her tone carried a touch of exasperation. “Bhaiya will need his own time slot too,” she said. “He can only visit me after 11, once my children are at school. And no feeding on Sundays—my husband comes back from the city, and I’m not explaining anything to him.”
Manisha raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a faint smirk. “You’re both giving them schedules now?” she teased. “This is starting to sound like a affair.”
Prabha adjusted her pallu, tucking it neatly over her shoulder. “It’s about boundaries,” she said firmly. “Dadaji might be demanding, but he’ll comply if I make the rules clear. I won’t let him disrupt my household.”
Gita nodded. “Bhaiya will sulk if I say no, but he’ll get over it. I’m not letting him interfere with my weekends. If he wants my attention, he’ll have to adjust to my schedule.”
Sujata sighed, glancing toward the hallway. “And Raju?” she asked softly. “What do we do if he keeps refusing?”
Prabha’s expression softened. “We stay close,” she said. “Even if he doesn’t nurse, we can offer comfort in other ways—hold his hand, speak to him gently. He needs to feel safe before he can let us in.”
Gita’s tone turned wistful. “I wish I could get through to him,” she said. “But he’s so consumed by the thought. It’s like nothing else matters.”
Manisha leaned back, her arms crossed. “We’ll bring him back,” she said firmly. “It’ll take time, but we’ll do it. For now, let’s focus on keeping the others calm while we wait.”
The soft creak of the front door echoed in the quiet night as Aarti, Prabha, and Gita prepared to leave. The blub in the living area cast a warm, flickering glow, reflecting the concern etched on everyone’s faces.
The golden hues of the evening filtered into Raju’s bedroom, casting soft shadows on the walls. He lay curled on his side, his face turned away, clutching the blanket tightly. His body was rigid, his breathing shallow, a testament to the emotional storm brewing within him.
Sujata stepped in first, her expression a mix of worry and determination. Gita and Prabha followed closely, their movements purposeful yet tender, as though trying not to disturb a fragile balance.
“Raju beta,” Sujata began softly, sitting near the foot of the bed. “What’s wrong? You’ve been like this all day, and we’re worried about you.”
Raju didn’t stir. His hands tightened around the blanket, his silence heavier than any words he could have spoken.
Gita knelt beside the bed, her green saree glinting softly in the fading light. “Raju,” she said gently, “we’re here because we care about you. Whatever’s troubling you, you don’t have to face it alone. We’re here for you, what happened with Sanjivani is not your fault. She would want you to feel loved.”
Prabha, ever serene, settled gracefully on the opposite side of the bed. Her maroon saree flowed around her like a river of silk. She leaned closer, her veiled face partially visible. “Beta,” she murmured, her tone imbued with quiet understanding, “it’s alright to feel hurt. Sometimes, sharing your pain can make it lighter. You can trust us.”
Raju’s body shifted slightly, but he remained silent. His face stayed buried in the pillow, his shoulders trembling faintly as though holding back tears.
Sujata reached out, her hand brushing lightly against his arm. “We just want you to feel better,” she said softly. “Whatever it takes, we’re here for you.”
Gita sighed quietly, her worry deepening. She adjusted her position, her saree slipping slightly off her shoulder as she leaned closer. “Raju,” she murmured, her voice low and coaxing, “let me help you relax. You don’t have to do anything—just let me care for you.”
With a flick of fingers, she unhooked her blouse, allowing her nipple to peek from her blouse. Her smooth, fair skin caught the soft light, her firm, rounded breasts now exposed. She cupped one breast gently, her pink, prominent nipple standing ready as she leaned over him.
She rested her free hand lightly on his shoulder, her touch tender but steady. Pressing her warm nipple softly against his lips, she whispered, “Come on, beta. Let me comfort you, just like she would.”
The warmth of her skin lingered, her soft breast brushing against his cheek. But Raju’s lips remained tightly closed. His hands clutched the blanket harder, his body stiffening further under her touch.
Prabha observed quietly, her serene presence undisturbed. She removed her blouse completely, revealing her perfectly round, full breasts. Her smooth, fair skin glowed softly, her puffy nipples prominent and inviting.
She leaned closer, her fingers brushing through Raju’s hair in slow, tender strokes. Her other hand cupped her breast, guiding it gently toward his lips. “Beta,” she said softly, “it’s all right. Let us take care of you. Sanjivani would want this for you.”
Prabha’s warm skin brushed against his lips as her red nipple pressed lightly against them. Her touch was reverent, her movements slow and deliberate. She kissed his temple softly, her lips lingering there as her hand cradled his head.
Raju remained unresponsive, his lips sealed, his face turning slightly further into the pillow.
From the doorway, Manisha had been watching quietly, her arms folded. She stepped forward, her expression firm but understanding. “Enough,” she said softly, her voice breaking the silence. “He doesn't want it. Let him take his time.”
As though responding to her voice, Raju’s hand suddenly emerged from beneath the blanket. He grasped Manisha’s wrist with surprising strength, his trembling fingers clutching her as though seeking an anchor.
Manisha knelt beside him, her free hand moving instinctively to cover his. His grip was tight, almost desperate, yet it spoke volumes.
Prabha, still close, leaned in again and kissed his cheek softly, her lips brushing against his warm skin. “It’s all right,” she whispered against his ear, her fingers stroking his hair gently. “Take your time, beta. We’re here for you.”
Raju’s grip on Manisha’s hand tightened briefly before loosening slightly. His body softened a little, the tension in his shoulders easing under their combined care.
Prabha pushed her loose breast in the blouse slowly, her movements slow hoping Raju would pounce to latch on to her. Gita followed suit, her hands brushing against her exposed breast before covering herself with a quiet sigh.
The women remained close, their presence a silent promise of unconditional love and care. Though Raju didn’t open his lips or speak, the subtle shifts in his body told them he felt their presence, their unyielding support, and their quiet assurance that he wasn’t alone.
The women gathered on the cushioned mats. Gita adjusted her saree, her fingers brushing absently over the edge of her blouse. Her fair skin glowed softly in the dim light as she sighed. “Raju is completely closed off,” she began, her voice tinged with both frustration and sadness. “I pressed my breast to his lips, stroked his cheeks, even whispered to him—but nothing. He just clung to the blanket tighter and turned further away.”
Manisha, seated cross-legged with her deep blue saree draped neatly, nodded thoughtfully. Her fingers traced the pleats of her saree as she spoke. “He’s not just distant,” she said quietly. “It’s like he’s built a wall around himself. Even when I tried to hold his hand, he barely reacted.”
Prabha, serene as always, sat gracefully at the edge of the group. Her body graceful as she adjusted her pallu over her veiled face. Her voice was soft yet firm. “He’s grieving in his own way,” she murmured. “He thinks he got Sanjivani’s in trouble, and he’s not ready to do it again.”
Gita leaned back against the wall, her dark eyes glinting with thoughtfulness. “I would love to feed him,” she admitted, her voice softening. “In another circumstance, I think he might have liked me—maybe even sought me out. But right now, he doesn’t even see me. He’s so lost in thoughts of her that nothing else seems to matter.”
Aarti, seated beside her in her bright yellow saree, rested her chin in her hand. “It’s hard to see him like this,” she said quietly. “He’s so different now. But Gita’s right—if he weren’t so consumed by Sanjivani, he’d probably be drawn to her. Who wouldn’t be?”
Prabha’s lips curved into a faint smile, and she adjusted her blouse as she spoke. Her fair fingers brushed lightly against the intricate blue and green veins that trailed across her skin, leading toward her dark, prominent nipple. “No man could resist me,” she said lightly, her tone carrying a mix of humor and quiet pride. “But Raju did. Even with my breast pressed to his lips, he stayed unmoving. If he really looks at me—sees the way my veins lead to my nipple—he’ll realize the beauty of what I’m offering. But he’s lost in thoughts of her. That’s all he sees right now.”
Sujata, seated at the edge of the group with her saree pleats neatly arranged, spoke with quiet resolve. “He needs time,” she said. “We can’t force him to open up. But we can’t ignore the others while we wait. Dadaji and Bhaiya won’t wait—they’ll demand attention.”
Gita adjusted her saree again, her fingers brushing against her shoulder. “Dadaji’s easy enough,” she said with a faint smirk. “He’s completely mesmerized by Prabha now. As long as she’s the one feeding him, he won’t even think to complain.”
Aarti chuckled softly. “She’s right, Prabha. Dadaji’s so smitten with you that he’ll do anything you say. It’s like he’s a boy meeting a goddess for the first time.”
Prabha’s cheeks flushed slightly, but her composure remained intact. “If it keeps him calm, I’ll manage him,” she said softly. “But he’ll have to come to my house. My husband and children can’t see this—he’ll have to wait until they leave in the morning.”
Gita laughed lightly, though her tone carried a touch of exasperation. “Bhaiya will need his own time slot too,” she said. “He can only visit me after 11, once my children are at school. And no feeding on Sundays—my husband comes back from the city, and I’m not explaining anything to him.”
Manisha raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a faint smirk. “You’re both giving them schedules now?” she teased. “This is starting to sound like a affair.”
Prabha adjusted her pallu, tucking it neatly over her shoulder. “It’s about boundaries,” she said firmly. “Dadaji might be demanding, but he’ll comply if I make the rules clear. I won’t let him disrupt my household.”
Gita nodded. “Bhaiya will sulk if I say no, but he’ll get over it. I’m not letting him interfere with my weekends. If he wants my attention, he’ll have to adjust to my schedule.”
Sujata sighed, glancing toward the hallway. “And Raju?” she asked softly. “What do we do if he keeps refusing?”
Prabha’s expression softened. “We stay close,” she said. “Even if he doesn’t nurse, we can offer comfort in other ways—hold his hand, speak to him gently. He needs to feel safe before he can let us in.”
Gita’s tone turned wistful. “I wish I could get through to him,” she said. “But he’s so consumed by the thought. It’s like nothing else matters.”
Manisha leaned back, her arms crossed. “We’ll bring him back,” she said firmly. “It’ll take time, but we’ll do it. For now, let’s focus on keeping the others calm while we wait.”
The soft creak of the front door echoed in the quiet night as Aarti, Prabha, and Gita prepared to leave. The blub in the living area cast a warm, flickering glow, reflecting the concern etched on everyone’s faces.
Very nice bro . Good going.. we are waiting for Raju to be in action. We hope soo that will happen
Very nice updates. Great. Now it's time to get Raju going to all the breasts he needed.
Update 22
Manisha turned to Sujata, her voice low. “We need to tell Baba and Bhaiya about the new arrangement. They need to understand boundaries. I dont want this to cause trouble at their house.”
Sujata nodded. “Let’s talk to them now before it gets too late.”
The two women made their way to the main hall, where Dadaji sat in his usual spot, his cane resting against the wall. Raju’s father reclined in a wooden chair nearby, his expression neutral but watchful.
Sujata addressed them directly, her tone firm. “There are changes to the routine. Starting tomorrow, Baba will visit Prabha’s house, but only after her husband and children leave in the morning. Bhaiya, you’ll visit Gita after 11 when her children are at school. Neither of you will disrupt their families.”
Dadaji chuckled softly, his lips curving into a faint smile. “Prabha’s milk, hmm? I don’t mind that arrangement one bit,” he said, tapping his cane against the floor.
Raju’s father frowned, leaning forward. “What if I need something earlier or later? I'm willing to drink your milk from glass” he asked.
Manisha’s gaze sharpened, her tone unwavering. “You’ll stick to the schedule. Both Prabha and Gita are accommodating you despite their own lives. You can adjust.”
Dadaji smirked, his eyes glinting with amusement. “As long as I get my time with Prabha, I’ll be fine,” he said.
Raju’s father muttered under his breath but didn’t argue further.
Sujata’s tone softened as she glanced toward the hallway. “And Raju?” she said. “He stays here with us. He needs the most care right now, and we’ll make sure he gets it.”
The soft clatter of utensils echoed through the kitchen as Raju finished his meal, his movements slow. His posture was hunched, his eyes downcast as if each bite required a monumental effort. Sujata and Manisha sat nearby, their gazes flicking between him and each other, their concern palpable under the warm glow of the lantern.
Sumit entered the room, adjusting his kurta as he settled into a chair beside Sujata. His eyes lingered on Raju for a moment before turning to his wife. “Sujata, he’s eating better than yesterday,” he observed softly. “That’s a good sign. But he still seems... so far away.”
Sujata nodded, her voice low. “It’s like he’s here, but his heart and mind are somewhere else entirely.”
Sumit’s brow furrowed slightly as he turned to Manisha, who was adjusting her saree. “Bhabhi, you spent the night with him yesterday,” he said. “Did he let you comfort him?”
Manisha straightened slightly, her fingers brushing against the pleats of her saree. Her voice softened as she began to speak. “He did,” she said, “but it wasn’t easy.”
She paused, her hands briefly resting on the edge of the table before continuing. “When I first sat with him, he was so tense. He wouldn’t look at me, wouldn’t say a word. His body was stiff, and he was clutching his blanket like a lifeline. I tried talking to him, stroking his hair, but it wasn’t enough.”
Sumit nodded thoughtfully. “What did you do?”
Manisha’s gaze softened as she exhaled deeply. “I unhooked my blouse,” she said, her voice steady despite the emotion behind her words. “I bared my chest and pulled him close. He needed to feel warmth and softness—something that could remind him he’s safe, that he’s loved.”
Her hands instinctively moved to her collarbone as she spoke, tracing the memory. “I held him against me, my bare skin against his cheek. I kissed his temple, his forehead, his cheeks... everywhere. I whispered to him that it was okay, that I was there for him.”
Sumit remained silent, his expression calm and understanding as he listened.
“At first, he resisted,” Manisha continued, her tone lowering. “His body was so tense, and he turned his face away. But I held him close—closer than I’ve ever held anyone, even closer than I held my husband on our suhagraat. I cradled his head with one hand and pressed him gently against my chest, guiding his lips to my nipple.”
Her voice faltered slightly, but she pressed on. “He hesitated when he felt it against his lips. But then, slowly, he latched. His pulls were soft at first, almost unsure, like he didn’t know if he could allow himself this comfort. I stroked his hair, traced my fingers along the curve of his jaw, and kissed him again, letting him take his time.”
Sujata reached out, placing her hand gently on Manisha’s arm. “You gave him exactly what he needed,” she said quietly. “You made him feel loved.”
Manisha offered a faint smile, her gaze distant as she recalled the moment. “Sanjeev came in after a while,” she added, hiding how they had sex while Raju was drawing milk from her. “He sat beside me and stroked Raju’s head while he nursed. I could feel Raju’s body relax more with every minute, the tension slowly leaving him. He didn’t stop until he fell asleep, his face resting against my chest.”
Sumit leaned back in his chair, his expression contemplative. “That’s what he needs,” he said. “Not just food or care, but to feel at home. To feel love. It’s the only way he’ll start to heal.”
Manisha nodded, her voice tinged with sadness. “But tonight, he’s withdrawn again. I don’t know if he’ll let anyone else get that close right now.”
Sumit turned to Sujata. “Maybe you should try tonight,” he suggested. “Sometimes a different presence can make all the difference. He might respond to you in a way he didn’t with Manisha.”
Sujata hesitated, her eyes flicking toward the hallway. “If he’s open to it, I will,” she said softly. “But I won’t push him. He’s been through enough already.”
Raju stood from his chair, the soft scrape of wood against the floor breaking the quiet. He glanced toward the hallway but said nothing as he slowly walked away, his steps heavy with unspoken emotion.
Sumit sighed, rubbing his forehead. “And what about Bhaiya?” he asked. “He’s been sulking all day. What’s going on with him?”
Manisha adjusted her saree, her tone sharper now. “We have decided to stop feeding him. He feels neglected,” she said plainly. “He’s not used to sharing attention, and now with Raju needing so much care, he’s sulking like a child. The new arrangements won’t make him any happier.”
Sumit frowned, leaning his elbows on the table. “We need a solution. What about hiring someone to help? A caretaker for Dadaji and Raju’s father? That would give you more time to focus on Raju.”
Sujata shook her head slightly. “It’s not that simple,” she said. “They wouldn’t accept help from anyone else. They’re too particular, too set in their ways.”
Manisha nodded. “And patient. Both of them are very rough with their teeths, especially Bhaiya. They will need someone who enjoys it.”
Sumit placed his hand on Sujata’s arm, his voice gentle but firm. “You’re carrying too much,” he said. “We’ll figure something out. But for now, focus on Raju. He needs you the most.”
Sujata managed a faint smile, her hand briefly covering his. “We’ll manage,” she said quietly. “We always do.”
Manisha turned to Sujata, her voice low. “We need to tell Baba and Bhaiya about the new arrangement. They need to understand boundaries. I dont want this to cause trouble at their house.”
Sujata nodded. “Let’s talk to them now before it gets too late.”
The two women made their way to the main hall, where Dadaji sat in his usual spot, his cane resting against the wall. Raju’s father reclined in a wooden chair nearby, his expression neutral but watchful.
Sujata addressed them directly, her tone firm. “There are changes to the routine. Starting tomorrow, Baba will visit Prabha’s house, but only after her husband and children leave in the morning. Bhaiya, you’ll visit Gita after 11 when her children are at school. Neither of you will disrupt their families.”
Dadaji chuckled softly, his lips curving into a faint smile. “Prabha’s milk, hmm? I don’t mind that arrangement one bit,” he said, tapping his cane against the floor.
Raju’s father frowned, leaning forward. “What if I need something earlier or later? I'm willing to drink your milk from glass” he asked.
Manisha’s gaze sharpened, her tone unwavering. “You’ll stick to the schedule. Both Prabha and Gita are accommodating you despite their own lives. You can adjust.”
Dadaji smirked, his eyes glinting with amusement. “As long as I get my time with Prabha, I’ll be fine,” he said.
Raju’s father muttered under his breath but didn’t argue further.
Sujata’s tone softened as she glanced toward the hallway. “And Raju?” she said. “He stays here with us. He needs the most care right now, and we’ll make sure he gets it.”
The soft clatter of utensils echoed through the kitchen as Raju finished his meal, his movements slow. His posture was hunched, his eyes downcast as if each bite required a monumental effort. Sujata and Manisha sat nearby, their gazes flicking between him and each other, their concern palpable under the warm glow of the lantern.
Sumit entered the room, adjusting his kurta as he settled into a chair beside Sujata. His eyes lingered on Raju for a moment before turning to his wife. “Sujata, he’s eating better than yesterday,” he observed softly. “That’s a good sign. But he still seems... so far away.”
Sujata nodded, her voice low. “It’s like he’s here, but his heart and mind are somewhere else entirely.”
Sumit’s brow furrowed slightly as he turned to Manisha, who was adjusting her saree. “Bhabhi, you spent the night with him yesterday,” he said. “Did he let you comfort him?”
Manisha straightened slightly, her fingers brushing against the pleats of her saree. Her voice softened as she began to speak. “He did,” she said, “but it wasn’t easy.”
She paused, her hands briefly resting on the edge of the table before continuing. “When I first sat with him, he was so tense. He wouldn’t look at me, wouldn’t say a word. His body was stiff, and he was clutching his blanket like a lifeline. I tried talking to him, stroking his hair, but it wasn’t enough.”
Sumit nodded thoughtfully. “What did you do?”
Manisha’s gaze softened as she exhaled deeply. “I unhooked my blouse,” she said, her voice steady despite the emotion behind her words. “I bared my chest and pulled him close. He needed to feel warmth and softness—something that could remind him he’s safe, that he’s loved.”
Her hands instinctively moved to her collarbone as she spoke, tracing the memory. “I held him against me, my bare skin against his cheek. I kissed his temple, his forehead, his cheeks... everywhere. I whispered to him that it was okay, that I was there for him.”
Sumit remained silent, his expression calm and understanding as he listened.
“At first, he resisted,” Manisha continued, her tone lowering. “His body was so tense, and he turned his face away. But I held him close—closer than I’ve ever held anyone, even closer than I held my husband on our suhagraat. I cradled his head with one hand and pressed him gently against my chest, guiding his lips to my nipple.”
Her voice faltered slightly, but she pressed on. “He hesitated when he felt it against his lips. But then, slowly, he latched. His pulls were soft at first, almost unsure, like he didn’t know if he could allow himself this comfort. I stroked his hair, traced my fingers along the curve of his jaw, and kissed him again, letting him take his time.”
Sujata reached out, placing her hand gently on Manisha’s arm. “You gave him exactly what he needed,” she said quietly. “You made him feel loved.”
Manisha offered a faint smile, her gaze distant as she recalled the moment. “Sanjeev came in after a while,” she added, hiding how they had sex while Raju was drawing milk from her. “He sat beside me and stroked Raju’s head while he nursed. I could feel Raju’s body relax more with every minute, the tension slowly leaving him. He didn’t stop until he fell asleep, his face resting against my chest.”
Sumit leaned back in his chair, his expression contemplative. “That’s what he needs,” he said. “Not just food or care, but to feel at home. To feel love. It’s the only way he’ll start to heal.”
Manisha nodded, her voice tinged with sadness. “But tonight, he’s withdrawn again. I don’t know if he’ll let anyone else get that close right now.”
Sumit turned to Sujata. “Maybe you should try tonight,” he suggested. “Sometimes a different presence can make all the difference. He might respond to you in a way he didn’t with Manisha.”
Sujata hesitated, her eyes flicking toward the hallway. “If he’s open to it, I will,” she said softly. “But I won’t push him. He’s been through enough already.”
Raju stood from his chair, the soft scrape of wood against the floor breaking the quiet. He glanced toward the hallway but said nothing as he slowly walked away, his steps heavy with unspoken emotion.
Sumit sighed, rubbing his forehead. “And what about Bhaiya?” he asked. “He’s been sulking all day. What’s going on with him?”
Manisha adjusted her saree, her tone sharper now. “We have decided to stop feeding him. He feels neglected,” she said plainly. “He’s not used to sharing attention, and now with Raju needing so much care, he’s sulking like a child. The new arrangements won’t make him any happier.”
Sumit frowned, leaning his elbows on the table. “We need a solution. What about hiring someone to help? A caretaker for Dadaji and Raju’s father? That would give you more time to focus on Raju.”
Sujata shook her head slightly. “It’s not that simple,” she said. “They wouldn’t accept help from anyone else. They’re too particular, too set in their ways.”
Manisha nodded. “And patient. Both of them are very rough with their teeths, especially Bhaiya. They will need someone who enjoys it.”
Sumit placed his hand on Sujata’s arm, his voice gentle but firm. “You’re carrying too much,” he said. “We’ll figure something out. But for now, focus on Raju. He needs you the most.”
Sujata managed a faint smile, her hand briefly covering his. “We’ll manage,” she said quietly. “We always do.”
Nice upda
Nice update bro
Nice update bro. It's time to start with Raju now. He should start with both of them all day.
Add scenes like Sujatha and Manisha should offer Raju to press their boobs whenever needed so that he will feel good. This will be a good start