Adultery Forbidden Desire of Shalini The Awakening

[shellysaini]

EPISODE 7: Testing the Limits

It had been a few days since that stolen afternoon—days filled with stolen glances and whispered promises, but no real opportunity. Bikram was busy with rentals, and Rohan seemed to be home more often. I was beginning to ache with unfulfilled want, the memory of his fingers and tongue still fresh on my skin.

Then came the doorbell. It rang at eleven in the morning, sharp and unexpected. I was in my nightie, hair uncombed, lazily scrolling through my phone. I frowned. Rohan was at work. Who could it be?

I opened the door and my breath caught.

Bikram stood there, a tired smile on his face, his kurta dusted with grime. Before I could speak, he stepped inside and pulled me into his arms, crushing me against his chest. I let out a squeak of surprise, then melted into him, my arms wrapping around his neck.

“How?” I whispered into his shoulder.

“Car broke down,” he murmured against my hair. “Gave it to the garage. Already informed Rohan bhaiya. It’ll take the whole day to fix.”

He pulled back, his dark eyes burning into mine. “We have the whole day, jaan.”

My heart raced. I jumped up in excitement, wrapping my legs around his waist, and he laughed softly, carrying me inside. He set me down in the hallway and cupped my face.

“Listen,” he said, his voice low and commanding. “Today we’re not cooking. We’re going out. A restaurant, then a tailor shop. I want you ready in half an hour. Wear your sexiest dress. The one that makes me want to tear it off you.”

I nodded, trembling with excitement. He gave me a quick, hard kiss and pushed me toward the bathroom.

I bathed in record time, but when I tried to lock the door, Bikram’s hand stopped it. “No,” he said through the crack. “I want to watch.”

Heat flooded my cheeks, but I obeyed. I left the door ajar and let the water run over my body. I could feel his gaze on my wet skin, on the curve of my back, the swell of my breasts. I soaped slowly, deliberately, knowing he was watching. His breathing grew heavier, but he didn’t touch me. Just watched.

When I stepped out, I dried myself quickly and slipped into my orange sundress—the shortest one I owned, with a deep neckline that barely held my breasts. I added high-heeled sandals that made my legs look endless, and painted my lips a glossy red. When I walked into the living room, Bikram let out a low whistle.

“Sex bomb,” he said, pulling me close. “Chalo, let’s go before I change my mind and keep you here all day.”

We took an auto to a small restaurant a few blocks away. The moment we stepped inside, I froze. Behind the counter, clearing a table, was Chotu—the milk delivery boy. He was wearing a waiter’s apron, and when he saw me, his mouth fell open.

I felt a flutter of embarrassment and something else—a dark thrill. Bikram guided me to a corner table, his hand resting possessively on my lower back. Chotu approached, his eyes roaming over my bare legs, the curve of my cleavage.

“Didi… aap?” he stammered. “Driver sahab ke saath? Aur itna sexy bann ke?”

Bikram just smiled, ordering two thalis. Chotu nodded, but his gaze kept dropping to my chest. I bit my lip, feeling a dampness bloom between my thighs.

Under the table, Bikram’s hand slid onto my thigh, his fingers crawling higher. I gasped softly, trying to keep my face neutral as he traced the edge of my panties. Chotu returned with our food, and I could barely eat—every time Bikram’s fingers pressed against my wetness, I lost my train of thought.

Chotu lingered, asking Bikram questions. “Kaise pataya isko, itni hot maal?” he whispered, thinking I couldn’t hear. “Humko bhi chance milega kya?”

Bikram chuckled, his fingers still moving inside me. I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood. When we finally left, I was aching, soaked, and utterly dizzy.

“What did you tell him?” I asked as we walked to the next auto.

“That maybe someday,” Bikram said with a wink. “If you behave.”

My stomach flipped.

We reached Queen Tailor Shop, a large establishment with four helpers busy at sewing machines. The main tailor, Jamal, was a wiry man with sharp eyes. He greeted Bikram like an old friend. “Aayi aapki maal? Bahut sundar hai.”

Bikram nodded. “Proper measurements chahiye. Tight fit, so her curves show.”

Jamal led me into a back room, a curtain drawn for privacy. Bikram followed. “Body-to-body measurement karna padega,” Jamal said, picking up a measuring tape. “Haan, sahi se lo,” Bikram replied.

My heart pounded as Jamal approached. He wrapped the tape around my waist first, his fingers brushing my ribs. Then my bust, the tape sliding under my breasts, his knuckles pressing against my nipples through the thin fabric. I shivered.

He measured my hips, his hands lingering on my bottom, fingers squeezing slightly. Then he knelt and ran the tape down my thigh, his thumb grazing my pussy through the cloth. I let out a tiny moan, and I saw his lips curl.

“bheegi hai,” he murmured, almost to himself.

Bikram stood watching, arms crossed, a dark smile on his face.

When the measurements were done, Jamal stood and wrote notes. “Three days,” he said. “Aap aa kar le jana.”

Bikram looked at me. “You’ll collect it, right?”

I nodded, understanding the unspoken promise—a reason to come back, alone, for another taste of Jamal’s hands.

The helpers stared at me as we left, their eyes hungry. I felt like a prized possession.

As we stepped out, Bikram pulled me close. “Now for the real surprise—You have to wait for few days more.”

My cheeks burned. “What if someone sees us here like this?”

“Then they see,” he said, his voice rough. “You’re mine, Shalini. And I want to keep you close always.”

I took
a shaky breath. The risk only made me hotter.

“Let’s go to home,” I whispered.

 

[shellysaini]

EPISODE 8 : The Terms of Change

Days slipped by in a soft blur of stolen glances and shy smiles. From the kitchen doorway Bikram would watch me as I passed in my kurta, his gaze lingering like a quiet promise. Change moved through the house in small, electric moments. Each morning I noticed a new look in Chotu’s eyes, the milk boy’s teasing words edged with suggestion, but I kept him at a careful distance while my brother was near.At night the house hushed and my thoughts grew louder. I would lie awake, my fingers drifting over my skin, picturing Bikram’s hands—rough, steady—where my own rested. Jamal’s brash touches threaded through those memories, leaving a confusing ache that mingled desire with caution.I had longed for a day that felt like this, and at last it arrived. One bright noon Bikram’s voice came over the phone like a warm summons, "Shelly, the dress is ready. You must go to the tailor shop today.”

I arrived at the tailor shop a little before 1 PM, my heart already fluttering with nervous anticipation. I had worn my favorite patiala suit today—a soft cotton kameez over loose churidar pants, modest and comfortable. My hair was tied back, and I wore minimal makeup, wanting to seem casual. But inside, I was anything but calm.

The bell above the door jingled as I stepped inside. The four helpers looked up from their machines, their eyes following me with that familiar hunger. I felt my cheeks warm, but I held my head high.

Jamal emerged from behind a rack of half-finished suits, his sharp eyes lighting up when he saw me. His lips curled into a warm, knowing smile.

“Aaye Didi” he said, his voice smooth and welcoming. “Patiala suit mein bhi aap bomb lag rahe ho. hot and beautiful.”

I blinked, surprised by the the easy compliment. Did Bikram share our secret with him? Did Jamal know about those stolen moments, about the way Bikram’s hands had explored my body? The thought made me feel exposed, but also thrillingly seen.

“Thank you, Jamal ji,” I said softly, keeping my voice steady. “You called about the dress?”

He nodded, gesturing toward the back room. “Ready hai, bag mein pack kar diya. Pehle andar aaiye, ek baar measurement confirm karna chahta hoon.”

I frowned slightly. “But the stitching is done, na? Why measure again?”

He smiled, his eyes glinting. “Bas confirm kar loon. Aap ka fitting perfect ho, isliye do baar check better hai. Chaliye, andar.”

I knew his intention. I felt it in the way his gaze lingered on my curves, in the slight tremor of his voice. But I acted as if I didn’t understand, nodding slowly and following him past the curtain.

The back room was small, cluttered with bolts of fabric and a long wooden table. The curtain fell behind us, muffling the sounds of the sewing machines. Jamal picked up the measuring tape, but his fingers were already reaching for me.

He started with my waist, his hands pressing against the soft cotton of my kameez. Then his knuckles brushed my ribs, sliding upward. When the tape circled my bust, his fingers lingered—pressing against my nipples through the fabric. I felt them stiffen under his touch, and a tiny gasp escaped my lips.

“Aap ki body bahut responsive hai,” he murmured, his voice low.

I bit my lip, trying to stay quiet. But when his thumb grazed my nipple again, a soft moan slipped out. I couldn’t help it. The sensation shot straight through me, pooling warmth in my belly.

Hearing my moan, Jamal grew more confident. He set the measuring tape aside and cupped my full breast in his palm, squeezing gently, testing. I didn’t push him away. I couldn’t. My body was singing.

“Kya maal pataya hai Bikram ne,” he said, his eyes dark and appreciative. “Madam, aapke liye mera service aaj se free hai. Aap koi bhi naya kapra chahein to mere paas aa jana. Bina hesitation.”

My breath hitched. His fingers trailed down from my breast, over my stomach, until he reached the drawstring knot at my waist. With a swift, practiced motion, he untied it. My churidar pants loosened and slid down, pooling at my ankles.

I stood there in my red thong, barely covering my ass, the fabric a thin line between my cheeks. Jamal’s eyes widened, his lips parting.

“Aap to…” he whispered, shaking his head. “Aap to too much sexy ho. Red thong, aur aap ka figure… wah, bhabiji.”

His hand reached out, fingertips sliding along the edge of my panty, dipping slightly beneath the fabric. I gasped and stepped back, catching his wrist.

“Jamal ji,” I said, my voice breathy but firm. “Ruko. Aaj nahi.”

He paused, looking at me with question in his eyes.

I swallowed, my heart pounding. I have to take a decision to fulfill my wildest fantasy of being touched and played by multiple man at a time and I will not get so many opportunities like this to fulfill my darkest fantasy and I have decided to throw the dice “ Jamal ji, Main aapki regular customer banungi. Lekin mera ek condition hai… Aap apne helpers ko bhi mera measurement lene doge. Unhe bhi mauka milega.”

Jamal’s expression shifted from surprise to understanding—then to admiration. He chuckled, shaking his head slowly.

“Bahit Badi randi ho tum,” he said, but there was no scorn in his voice. Just respect—and excitement. “Theek hai. Condition maan li. Aaj hi trial karna hai kya?”

I shook my head, bending down to pull my pants back up. I tied the knot firmly, smoothing my kameez over my hips. “Aaj time nahi hai. Lekin jald hi aaungi.”

He nodded, watching me with new eyes—like he had discovered something precious and dangerous.

When I stepped out from behind the curtain, the four helpers stared at me. Their machines had gone silent. Their eyes roamed over my body, undressing me with invisible hands. I felt naked under their gaze, exposed and vulnerable—but also alive, electric with heat.

I knew what I had just done. The dice had been thrown. Each one of them—Jamal, the helpers, perhaps others—would eventually get a chance to taste me. And I was excited.

I collected the bag from the counter, my fingers trembling slightly. Jamal smiled at me, a silent promise in his eyes.

As I walked out of the shop, the noon sun hit my face, but I felt a chill of anticipation run through me. My phone buzzed. A message from Bikram.

“Mil gaya kapda? Sab theek hai?”

I typed back quickly: “Mil gaya. Sab bahut interesting hai. Ghar aake batati hoon.”

He sent a smiling emoji. I tucked my phone into my purse, clutching the bag close to my chest. The dress was inside—but I had promised Bikram I wouldn’t open it. Not yet. The mystery added to the thrill.

I walked home slowly, my body still tingling from Jamal’s touch, my mind already racing with what would come next.

 

[r2413]

fantastic..
please add pics

 

[shellysaini]

 

[shellysaini]

EPISODE 9-The Illusion of Victory

The next few days passed quietly, but not without purpose. I kept the packet from Jamal's shop unopened in my wardrobe, just as I had promised Bikram. The mystery of what lay inside—the dress, the surprise—kept my excitement simmering beneath the surface. I busied myself with writing, my special hobby that mixed real life with fantasy, weaving our stolen moments into stories that made my heart race.

But today, I decided I couldn't wait any longer. I needed to push Bikram for the surprise. So at 5:30 AM, I slipped into one of my shortest white skirt—the one that barely reached mid-thigh—and a white top that I deliberately dampened near the sink until the fabric clung to my skin like a second layer, revealing the outline of my red thong bikini bra beneath. I applied glossy pink lipstick, took a deep breath, and padded barefoot to Bikram's room with a cup of steaming tea. He was awake, sitting on the edge of his cot, scrolling through his phone. When I entered, his eyes lit up, sweeping over my body with hungry appreciation. "Good morning, darling," I said softly, setting the tea on his bedside table. He pulled me onto his lap, his hand sliding up my thigh, fingers brushing the hem of my skirt. "You look incredible," he murmured against my neck, pressing a kiss there. "Eager for the surprise?"





I nodded, my voice catching. "You said it would come soon. I want it. I want to know what you've planned." He smiled, his eyes glinting with mischief. "Patience, my sweet. But I have exciting news. Rohan is looking for another car to expand his rental business. I've found a perfect offer—from someone far away. Rohan will need to go out of station to close the deal. I've arranged everything so you and I will have the house to ourselves for at least two days." My heart leaped. "But what if he takes you with him?"

"I've thought of that too. He won't. You'll see when the time comes." I kissed him, my excitement mounting. I felt the hardness pressing against my thigh through his pajamas. A playful idea sparked in my chest. I let my hand drift down, brushing over the fabric, feeling him twitch beneath my touch. Bikram groaned softly, his hand tangling in my hair. "You're playing with fire, Saini." I smiled, leaning down to press my lips against the bulge. Through the thin cotton, I kissed him—slow, deliberate, letting my breath warm the fabric. His hips lifted slightly, and I could taste his need in the air. But when he tried to guide my head lower, I pulled back, shaking my head. "Not yet," I whispered, my voice steady even as my heart hammered. "I'm not ready for that." He paused, then chuckled, releasing my hair and leaning back on his hands. "Fair enough. You set your own pace." His eyes danced with that mischievous glint I loved. "But you've given me an idea."

I stayed on his lap, my skirt riding up dangerously high, skin against his rough pajamas. "What kind of idea?" He reached for his tea, took a sip, then set it aside. "I met Chotu yesterday. He mentioned you. Said you look very sexy when you go out in the mornings. How you tease him with those short skirts and low-cut tops." A flush crept up my neck. I hadn't realized Chotu noticed me that much. "He said that?"

"He did." Bikram's hand slid up my thigh again, fingers pressing into the soft skin just below my hip. "So here's the game. Every morning at six, you'll go to collect milk from him. Wear your most revealing clothes. But you cannot let him touch you. Not a f inger. The day Chotu says 'Mazaa aaya'—the day he admits he enjoyed watching you— you win. And you'll get your surprise." My breath caught. The thought of parading in front of Chotu, feeling his eyes on me, while Bikram watched from a distance—it made my stomach flutter with nervous excitement. "And if I lose?" I asked, though I already knew the answer. "Then you have to wait longer. And you fulfill one wish of mine without question." I bit my lip, imagining what that wish could be. But I wasn't going to lose. I could feel the heat pooling between my thighs, the challenge lighting a fire inside me. "I'll win," I said, sliding off his lap and smoothing down my damp top. "Ask him to come at six. Rohan sleeps like a log. I can experiment more." Bikram grinned, reaching out to trace the line of my jaw. "I knew you'd say that. I'll arrange it. Now go—before you wake the whole house with that look in your eyes." I kissed him once more, quick and fierce, then slipped out of his room. My heart raced as I padded back to my own room, already planning what I'd wear tomorrow. The shortest skirt I owned. The top that barely covered my breasts. Maybe a little more gloss. The game was on. And I intended to win.

Every morning for the past few days, I had gone to collect milk wearing something scandalous—a short skirt, a low-cut top, a dress that showed just enough to leave Chotu stammering. He had started complimenting me, his eyes lingering, but never spoke the magical words. This morning, I decided to take it further. I let the damp top cling to my breasts, the red bra clearly visible through the fabric. I walked to open the door with deliberate slowness, my hips swaying, my heart pounding. Chotu was already there, his eyes widening as I approached. "Didi, aap aaj bahut sexy lag rahe ho," he said, his voice thick.

I smiled, bending down to pick up the empty milk can—and as I did, I deliberately dropped the clothes I was carrying onto the floor. I bent lower to pick them up, knowing my short skirt rode up, revealing the red thong bikini bottom that barely covered my ass. I could feel his gaze burning into me. When I straightened, Chotu's mouth was hanging open, his eyes fixed on my body. He didn't speak. He just stared, frozen. I knew in that moment—I had won the game. But that night, when I asked Bikram, he shook his head. "He just said 'mazaa nahin aaya.'"And somehow, that made me even more excited.

I smiled, not disappointed, but thrilled. Because I understood now. Bikram had set this game not for me to win, but to push me further. And the thought of what wish he would demand—what filthy, irresistible
command he had waiting—made my body hum with anticipation. As I lay in bed that night, I shivered, imagining what he would ask of me. Something that would push every boundary I had. Something I couldn't say no to. And I couldn't wait.

 

[shellysaini]

 

[shellysaini]

Shelly opening the door and collecting Milk packet from Milk boy

 

[shellysaini]

EPISODE 10 : The Edge of Patience

The next morning, I woke before dawn, my body humming with a familiar anticipation. I had lost the game—and that loss thrilled me more than any victory could. Bikram’s unspoken command hung in the air between us, a delicious mystery I was desperate to uncover.

I slipped into my mini skirt, the blue one that barely covered my thighs, and a thin cotton top that left little to the imagination. No bra tonight—just the fabric teasing my nipples as they hardened against the cool air. I applied a fresh coat of glossy pink lipstick, ran my fingers through my hair, and padded silently to the kitchen.

The tea was ready in minutes. I poured it into his favorite cup, the steam curling upward as I carried it to his room. The house was still dark, Rohan’s snores faint from his room down the hall.

Bikram was awake, sitting on the edge of his cot, his phone’s glow illuminating his strong jaw. When I entered, he looked up, and his eyes darkened with immediate hunger.

“Good morning, darling,” I said softly, setting the cup on his bedside table. But I didn’t step back. Instead, I stood in front of him, letting the hem of my skirt barely cover my upper thighs, my hips swaying slightly as I straightened.

He reached out, his hand gripping my waist and pulling me closer until I stood between his legs. “You’re early today,” he murmured, his voice rough with sleep and desire. His other hand slid up my bare thigh, fingers tracing slow, deliberate circles on my skin.

“I couldn’t wait,” I whispered. “I want to know what you’ll ask of me now that I’ve lost.”

He chuckled, a low, possessive sound. “Patience, my sweet. You’ll know soon enough. But first…” He tugged me onto his lap, and I straddled him, my skirt riding up even higher. His hand found the bare curve of my ass, squeezing gently.

I gasped as he pressed his lips to my neck, kissing and sucking the sensitive skin just below my ear. “You’ve been so good,” he breathed against me. “So eager to please. But I want more.”

His fingers traced the edge of my panties—the red thong bikini I still wore—before hooking under the fabric and pulling it down. I lifted my hips to help him, and soon the scrap of cloth fell to the floor.

He lay me back on the cot, his body covering mine, his weight a warm, commanding presence. His hands roamed over my breasts, cupping them through the thin top, his thumbs circling my nipples until they peaked beneath the fabric.

“I’ve been thinking about this all night,” he said, his voice a low growl. “About how you’ll look when Rohan leaves. How I’ll have you all to myself.”

I moaned, arching into his touch. “When will he go?”

“Soon,” he promised. “I’ve arranged everything. He’ll leave day after tomorrow afternoon. We’ll have the entire evening, the night, the next morning, whole day—however long you want.”

His words sent a thrill through me. Tomorrow. Just one more day.

He pulled the top over my head, baring my breasts to the cool air. Then his mouth was on them, hot and hungry, sucking and biting until I writhed beneath him. His hand slid between my thighs, fingers finding me already wet, and he pushed inside with a single, smooth motion.

I cried out, gripping his shoulders, my back arching off the cot. “Bikram…”

“Shh,” he whispered, his thumb circling my clit as his fingers worked inside me. “Don’t wake your brother. Not yet.”

I bit my lip, stifling my moans as he brought me closer to the edge. His pace was slow, deliberate, each stroke sending waves of pleasure through my body. I could feel myself tightening around his fingers, my breath coming in short, sharp gasps.

“That’s it,” he murmured. “Let go for me. Cum for me.”

And I did, my orgasm washing over me in a surge of heat and light, my body trembling against his. He held me through it, his fingers still moving, prolonging the sensation until I was breathless.

When I finally opened my eyes, he was smiling down at me, his expression tender and possessive all at once. “Today” he said, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “Today I’ll come early in the evening, be ready for me”

I curled into his side, my heart pounding. The anticipation was almost unbearable. But the promise in his voice was enough to make every second of waiting worth it.

 

[shellysaini]

EPISODE 11-The Unexpected Guest:

I stood before the full-length mirror, the evening light casting a golden glow across my bare skin. My smoky eyes stared back at me, dark and inviting, my lips glossed and parted. The delicate gold chain around my neck caught the light, a tiny promise of submission. Bikram’s words echoed in my head—You don’t have to wear anything when you’re alone with me. So I had obeyed. Completely. My skin still shimmered from the moisturizer, my hair loose and soft. I touched a finger to my collarbone, then trailed it downward, over my breast, across my stomach. The anticipation was a living thing inside me, coiling low and warm.

I let my hand wander lower, between my thighs. A soft gasp escaped my lips as I touched myself. I was already wet, slick and ready, my body responding to the mere thought of his hands on me. I slid one finger inside, slow and teasing, imagining it was Bikram’s touch—firm, knowing, possessive. My hips rocked gently against my own rhythm, and I closed my eyes, letting the warmth build. The clock on the bedside table ticked loudly. He would be here any minute. I bit my lower lip, my other hand cupping my breast, my nipples tightening in the cool air. I imagined him walking in, seeing me like this, his eyes darkening with approval.

Then the doorbell rang.It is early than my expectation…

My heart leaped. I smoothed my hair, took a deep breath, and padded to the door, my feet silent on the cool tiles. I opened it with my eyes shut, a submissive smile on my face, ready to feel his arms wrap around me. But instead of Bikram’s familiar scent—the faint spice of his cologne—I heard a sharp intake of breath, and a voice I didn’t recognize.

“Wow, Bikram bhaiya, aapne sahi kaha tha.”

My eyes flew open. Standing there, grinning like a cat who’d found cream, was a young man I vaguely recognized from the transport office. Rupam, Bikram’s driver partner. He was younger, maybe just twenty, with wide, bold eyes that roamed over my naked body without shame. His gaze lingered on my breasts, then dropped lower, and I felt every inch of his stare like a physical touch. My hands flew to cover myself, but it was too late. He had seen everything.

“I—just a moment—” I stumbled backward, heat flooding my cheeks, and turned to flee to my bedroom. My heart pounded so loudly I could hear it in my ears. I grabbed the first thing I found—a thin cotton nightie, pale pink, nearly sheer—and pulled it over my head. No underwear. No bra. The fabric clung to my damp skin, my nipples pressing visibly against the material. I felt exposed, but also strangely alive. The thought of his eyes on me lingered, electric.

When I emerged, Bikram was standing in the living room, a calm, satisfied smile on his face. Rupam stood a few feet away, still grinning, his gaze now tracing the outline of my body through the nightie. I crossed my arms instinctively, then let them drop. Bikram’s eyes met mine, warm and knowing.

“Sorry, Jaan,” he said,“I didn’t tell you about Rupam. He’s a nice boy. I know your weakness about young boys, and Rupam will surely help.”

I blinked, my mind racing. “But… I thought we’d be alone…”

Bikram stepped closer, his hand reaching out to touch my cheek. “You trust me, don’t you?”

I nodded, my breath catching. “Then let me guide you. He’s eager. He’s young. And he has lots to offer.”

Rupam’s grin softened into something more earnest. He took a step forward, his eyes still on me. “I’ll be good, Shalini ji. I promise.”

The air between us thickened. I felt my cheeks burn, but a shiver of excitement ran down my spine. Bikram’s hand slid to my shoulder, pressing gently. “Show him how beautiful you are,” he murmured.

“Don’t be shy.”

I hesitated for only a heartbeat. My eyes darted to Bikram, searching for any hint of softening, any sign that this was a test I could fail. His gaze was steady, unyielding—a dark promise of what would happen if I disobeyed.

Rupam had already settled on the sofa, legs spread, arms resting along the back, watching me with an eager, almost predatory grin.

My breath caught. I could feel the thin cotton of my nightie clinging to my damp skin, the outline of my nipples visible, my thighs bare beneath the hem. I was completely vulnerable, and yet—there was a strange thrill in that vulnerability.

I wanted to please Bikram. I wanted to be good. I stepped forward slowly, my bare feet on the cool floor. Rupam folded his arms. “Bhabi, come on, don’t be shy. I’m like your devar,” he said, his voice playful.

The word bhabi sent a strange jolt through me. I opened my mouth to object, but Bikram cut me off. “Itne nakhre mat dikha. Jaisa keh raha hain waisa karo. Tum bhi enjoy karo aur doosre ko bhi enjoy karne do. Tu kitna bara randi hai, sabko pata hai.” The words stung, but also ignited something deep in my belly. I didn’t want to upset him. I bit my lip and lowered my gaze. “Yes, Bikram.”

He gestured to the sofa. “Sit on Rupam’s lap.” I looked from Bikram face to Rupam’s eager young face. My heart raced, but my body relaxed, yielding. Slowly, I stepped forward, my heart hammering. The carpet soft under my feet, the air thick with tension. I stopped in front of Rupam, then slowly, reluctantly, turned and lowered myself onto his lap. My back pressed against his chest, his thighs solid beneath me. I sat stiffly, hands folded in my own lap, staring straight ahead at the blank TV screen. Rupam’s hands came to rest on my shoulders, light and warm. “Relax, bhabi,” he murmured near my ear. “I won’t bite. Not unless you want me to.” I did not hesitate a second, my nightie riding up as I settled onto Rupam’s thighs. His hands immediately found my waist, warm and firm. I shivered.

Across the room, Bikram had pulled up a chair, leaning back with his arms crossed, his eyes fixed on us. He looked like a king surveying his domain, and I was the offering laid out before him. “Now,” Bikram said, his voice calm and commanding, “Rupam, show her how a man touches a woman who’s been waiting.” Rupam’s hands slid down from my shoulders, over the thin fabric of the nightie, tracing the curve of my arms. His fingers brushed the sides of my breasts—light, teasing touches that made me gasp. He cupped my breasts through the cotton, squeezing gently, his thumbs circling my nipples until they hardened into tight peaks. He leaned in and kissed me. It was soft at first, then his tongue pressed against my lips, demanding entry. I parted them, and he slid inside, tasting of chai and something sweet. His hand slipped under my nightie, fingers finding my bare hip. I moaned into his mouth as his hands left my breasts and traveled down my stomach, spreading warmth wherever they touched. He slipped his fingers under the hem of the nightie, stroking my bare thighs, moving higher, closer. I trembled, my breath quickening.He caressed my thigh, then higher, until his fingertip brushed my wetness. I bit my lip, a soft moan escaping despite myself. Bikram’s gaze burned into me, watching every reaction. I felt exposed, but also… seen. Desired. “She’s so soft,” Rupam said, his voice husky. “And already wet, bhaiya, She’s ready.”

I closed my eyes, ashamed and aroused at the same time. Bikram’s approval hummed in the air. “Good. She’s been waiting for this all day.” Rupam’s finger slid inside me, and I gasped. He moved slowly, exploring, while his other hand reached for something on the coffee table—a small bag of vegetables.

He pulled out a shiny purple brinjal, no bigger than my palm. I stared at it, my breath quickening. “Bikram said you like surprises,” Rupam whispered. He pressed the cool vegetable against my entrance. I shivered—pain and excitement mingled. He pushed gently, and I felt the smooth, firm shape slide inside me, stretching me. I gripped his shoulders, my nails digging in. “Aah… oh God…” The sensation was foreign, intense. I rocked my hips, and he pushed it deeper. I came once, then again, my body shuddering against him. Bikram watched, his eyes dark with satisfaction.

When I finally collapsed against Rupam’s chest, breathing hard, Bikram leaned forward. “As expected, Rohan has asked me to accompany him on the tour.” Hearing that, I snapped. “Bikram, you promised me—” He cut me off gently. “Don’t worry, darling. That’s why Rupam is coming. He’ll accompany Rohan on the trip. I don’t have anyone else I trust. Rupam will keep us informed of their whereabouts the whole time. This way we can relax and have more time together. Rohan already knows Rupam; he can even delay things on purpose to give us extra hours.”

He paused; his voice softened. “You know, to gain something you sometimes have to give something. Rupam wasn’t willing at first. Do you know what I offered him? Your company. Just wait one more day. We’ll have the whole day and night to ourselves. I want our Suhaagrat, first night together to be memorable.”.”

I stared at him, my thoughts blurred by the word—suhagraat—our first night together. What was he planning? I looked at the young man still holding me; his fingers moved idly at my hip.

He said, “Bhabiji, you’ll have to spend a bit more time with me today. We’ll meet again later; that will be my bonus.” Rupam turned to Bikram. “If Shalini ji promises to spend more time with me again, I’ll do my best to give you both as much time as possible. The more time I arrange for you two, the more time I’ll have to get alone with Shaini ji after the tour.” I kissed Rupam on impulse; heat flared through me, sharp and greedy. His mouth opened, answering mine, and a low hunger hummed between us. The kiss wasn’t just agreement—it was a claim, a promise pressed to my lips. Being used as bait was deliciously humiliating, each calculated move from Bikram fanning the small, fierce blaze inside me until I was burning for whatever came next..

Now only thing Bikram has to do is convince Rohan to take Rupam with him.

 

[shellysaini]

EPISODE 12: Orchestrate the Sealing of the Plan

I watched Bikram pull out his phone, his thumb hovering over the screen. Rupam’s fingers still traced lazy circles on my hip, his warmth seeping through the thin fabric of my nightie. The brinjal had been removed, set aside on the coffee table, a cool reminder of what had just passed. My thighs still trembled.

Bikram glanced at me, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Time to call Rohan.”

My breath caught. “Now?”

“Trust me.” He pressed dial and put the phone to his ear. I sat frozen on Rupam’s lap, listening to the one-sided conversation.

“Rohan bhaiya? Haan, main Bikram. Listen, I need a favour. Rupam is here with me—he needs to go to your side for a few days. The transport office has some work near your tour route, and it’ll help me if he travels with you.”

There was a pause. Rupam’s hand stilled on my waist. I could hear the faint murmur of Rohan’s voice through the speaker, but not the words.

“Haan, haan, he’s a good boy. You know him. He’ll handle the luggage, keep you company. And it’ll save me from sending someone else later.” Another pause. “Aapki convenience pe adjustment kar lenge. Haan, definitely. Thank you, bhaiya.”

Bikram ended the call, his eyes gleaming. “Done. He agreed. Rupam will leave with him day after tomorrow noon.”

Rupam’s grin returned, bolder now. “And I’ll call you every day, bhabiji. Let you know exactly where he is. Maybe I’ll find a reason to extend the trip by an extra night.”

My heart fluttered. I looked at Bikram, who had moved closer, his hand cupping my chin gently. “You see, Saini? I told you. After Tomorrow night, it’s just us. The whole house, the whole night. Our suhagraat.”

The word made me shiver. I leaned into his touch, my body still humming from Rupam’s attention. Bikram’s thumb brushed my lower lip.

“But today,” he murmured, “we still have around one hour for us.”

“Now,” Bikram said softly, “let me remind you who you belong to first.”

I broke the kiss, my lips trembling as I looked up at Rupam's eager face, then back at Bikram's commanding presence. The weight of submission settled over me like a warm blanket, and I let go of the last shreds of resistance.

Rupam guided me back onto his lap, his hands finding their way to my breasts immediately. This time, I didn't sit stiffly. I leaned back against his chest, letting my body relax into his touch. His fingers traced the outline of my nipples through the thin cotton, circling slowly, deliberately.

"You're so responsive, bhabi," he whispered, his breath warm against my ear. "Every little touch makes you shiver."

I felt Bikram's gaze on us, intense and approving. He hadn't moved from his chair, his arms still crossed, but there was a softness in his eyes now. He nodded slightly, encouraging me to continue.

Rupam's hands slid down my stomach, spreading warmth wherever they touched. He hooked his fingers under the hem of my nightie and pulled it up, exposing my thighs. I gasped as the cool air hit my skin, but I didn't try to stop him. I was his to command.

"Spread your legs for him," Bikram said quietly. "Let him see what he's been missing."

I obeyed, my thighs parting slowly. Rupam's hand slid between them, his fingers finding my wetness immediately. He stroked me gently, teasingly, his thumb circling my clit in lazy patterns.

"You're so wet," he murmured, his voice husky with desire. "Are you always like this for bhaiya?"

I couldn't answer. My breath came in short gasps as his fingers worked their magic. One finger slipped inside me, then two, curling and stretching. I moaned, my head falling back against his shoulder.



Bikram stood up and walked over to us. He knelt in front of me, his face inches from mine. His hand cupped my cheek, tilting my face up to meet his gaze.



"Look at me," he said softly. "I want you to remember this moment. I want you to remember how good it feels to be claimed."

I nodded, tears of pleasure and emotion welling in my eyes.

I forced my eyes open, meeting Rupam’s gaze. He was watching me with dark intensity, his lips parted, his breathing heavy. He pushed another finger inside me, stretching me, and I cried out, my hips bucking against his hand.

Rupam’s fingers continued their rhythm inside me, pushing me higher, found the edge of my wetness, sliding through my folds with deliberate slowness. I jerked, a sharp gasp escaping my lips. He circled my clit with his thumb while one finger pressed inside me, curling just right. I grabbed his thighs, my nails digging in as waves of pleasure rolled through me.

“Look at him,” Bikram commanded. “Look at Rupam when he touches you, Come for him," Bikram whispered. "Show him how obedient you can be."

The command broke through my last barrier. I cried out, my body shuddering as waves of pleasure rolled through me. Rupam held me close, his fingers slowing as I came down from the high.

When I finally opened my eyes, Bikram was smiling. He leaned in and kissed my forehead, a gesture so tender it made my heart ache.

"Good girl," he said. "Now, let's see how much more you can take before we have to stop."

“That’s it,” Bikram said, his voice low and approving. “You’re doing so well, Shelly. Now, I want you to pleasure him. I want to see you on your knees, taking his cock in your mouth.”

The command hung in the air, heavy and not easy to deny. Denial may make Bikram angry, Rupam may refuse to help. My heart raced. I had never done this before—not with a stranger, not with Bikram watching. But the thought sent a thrill through me, and I knew It will be hard to refuse.

I slid off Rupam’s lap, my knees landing on the carpet. He stood up, unbuckling his belt, his erection straining against his trousers. I looked up at him, then at Bikram, who nodded once.

I reached for the zipper, my fingers trembling with anticipation...

I closed my eyes, my lips hovering just above the tip of Rupam’s cock. I could feel his heat radiating against my mouth, the scent of him filling my senses. My heart pounded in my chest, a wild drumbeat of fear and desire. I had kissed Bikram’s cock many times before, in the dark of night, when the house was quiet and Rohan was asleep. But this was different. This was in front of Bikram, in the light of day, with Rupam watching me with hungry eyes.

I kissed the tip, my lips barely brushing against his skin. Rupam groaned, his hand tangling in my hair, pulling me closer. I opened my mouth, ready to take him inside, ready to surrender completely.

But then Bikram’s voice cut through the haze of my arousal.

“Shelly… just kiss his balls.”

I froze, relief washing over me like a cool wave. I pulled back, looking up at Bikram. He was smiling, his eyes dark with approval.

“Take his ball in your mouth,” he said, his voice low and commanding. “He shaved his inner hair just for you. We don’t have much time, but I want you to taste him.”

I nodded, my breath coming in soft gasps. I leaned forward again, my lips parting as I took Rupam’s left ball into my mouth. It was warm and heavy against my tongue, smooth from the recent shave. I sucked gently, rolling it around my mouth, tasting the salt of his skin.

Rupam moaned above me, his grip tightening in my hair. “Yes, bhabi,” he gasped. “Just like that.”

I switched to the other ball, sucking it with the same tenderness, my tongue tracing lazy circles around the base. Bikram watched us, his hand stroking his chin, a look of pure satisfaction on his face.

“Good girl,” he murmured. “You’re learning.”

I released Rupam’s ball with a soft pop, looking up at him through my lashes. He was breathing heavily, his eyes glazed with pleasure. I pressed a kiss to the tip of his cock again, a promise of what was to come.

“I will satisfy you,” I whispered, my voice steady despite my trembling. “But you have to do something for me first.”

Rupam’s eyes narrowed, a smile playing on his lips. “What?”

I looked at Bikram, who nodded, giving me permission to speak.

“I want you to get an extra night,” I said, my voice low and seductive. “When you leave with Rohan, find a reason to extend the trip by one more night. And when you come back, you and me… alone.”

Rupam’s smile widened, his hand stroking my cheek. “Anything for you, but I will need the whole day with you as my girlfriend, you promise .”

I sealed the promise with a kiss on his lips, then looked up at Bikram. He stood up, extending his hand to help me to my feet. I took it, my body still humming with unspent desire.

“Time to go,” Bikram said, his voice quiet but firm.

Rupam quickly adjusted his trousers, hiding his still-hard cock. Before I could move, he stepped forward, his hand sliding down my stomach to my mound. He pressed a kiss against the fabric of my nightie, his lips warm against my most intimate place.

“I’ll remember this,” he whispered against my skin. “And next time, you won’t get off so easy.”

He pulled away, his eyes dark with promise, and walked toward the door. I stood there, rooted to the spot, my body aching for more. Bikram came up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist, his lips brushing my ear.

“You did well,” he said softly. “But this is just the beginning.”