Indian housewife Marry with her father-in-law – Life of Indian Housewife

76 Min Read

Balwant went over to the steel almirah at the corner and opening the door first and locker next, he searched for the ornaments he wanted the bride to wear. When he had finished making his choice, these were what lay on the center table beside the almirah. Matasari looked at them curiously.

An exquisite diamond studded naath (nose-ring)

A gold maang tikka (head ornament) fit for any royal family

A pair of golden earrings

Twelve pair of bangles.

A silver payal (anklets) with the chain designed in the shape of small bells that would dingle when there was any movement of the wearer’s feet.

A flat square box lay beside these ornaments, but Matasari didn’t know the contents and looked with curiosity at Balwant.

Most of the items belonged to Sonam’s mother-in-law excepting whatever lay hidden inside the box. Matasari opened the box and a few glances made it clear to the priestess what it was. But, as the ornament was not new, she looked at Balwant, wanting to know more about its past.

Balwant clarified that it was a few generations old, having been handed over to the eldest son of each generation who, in turn, would clamp it on his wife. But this was just an ornamental piece as he neither made his wife wear it when she was alive, nor had he heard of it being used a generation earlier. For, as far as he knew, neither did his father make his mother wear it. And, he himself, didn’t hand it over to Rajesh.

Sonam looked at it with a lot of curiosity, unable to fathom what or where this ornament was to be worn by a woman. She wanted to know about it too.

“Balwant, it’s wise that you have kept this special ornament for Sonam. It is necessary for her to wear it. Her beauty is such that her intimate womanhood should be secured! I have decided that I’ll lock this on the sweet bahu and then give the key to you, at least as a token gesture for protection.” Matasari said and then went on to say, “I am taking these to Sonam’s room to get her ready. Excepting the ‘mangalsutra’, which only you can put around your wife’s neck.”

“Very true Mataji. It would be a token piece of ornament, as a part of tonight’s bridal ornaments. She needn’t wear it after the wedding,” Balwant said.

Sonam kept on looking at the ornament but no one seemed to remove his ignorance.

“What is it?” She asked when she had lost patience.

“You’ll know when you wear it,” Matasari laughed.

She took all the items excepting the mangalsutra and went away to the adjoining room. Just at the door she stopped and turned.

“Balwant, I have to tell you that in this gandharva marriage, even the priest or priestess has to be just as naked at the time of marriage. So, you should not feel awkward when I come through this door with the bride.”

She left the room, but her words were exciting for Balwant.

It took about fifteen minutes for the young bride to be ready. She was naked excepting for the ornaments that she was now wearing. All but the chastity belt which turned out to be a beautiful ornament. It was very smooth underneath and touched the yoni (vagina) lips so that there was less than a few millimetres between the gold ornament and the naked skin and lips of Sonam’s yoni. The top of this piece was attached to the waistband, also made of gold, with a little lock connecting the waist band to the one that covered the yoni.

“You know what this is called Sonam?” asked Matasari.

“No, Mataji,” said Sonam apologetically.

“Hmmm. Well, this is called a ‘yoni-sutra’ and is just as important as the mangal sutra that a bride will wear on the wedding night. Come, let me take off the mangal sutra that Rajesh had given you.” She uttered a few mantras silently and then took off the ornament that had bound Sonam to Rajesh. So, while Sonam wore many wedding ornaments, she didn’t have a mangalsutra around her neck now.

“You are now free to wed whom you love so much, the real ‘mard’ in your life, your beloved babuji,” Matasari said. Then, she stood away and looked at Sonam in the eyes.

“Sonam dear, I told something to Balwant outside, which I’ll now tell you. But you must not feel bad about it. Can you promise that?” Matasari said.

“You can tell me without hesitation,” Sonam assured her.

“Your Mataji too has to become naked now to complete the entire process of your marriage,” the priestess said, “so don’t be shocked or feel uneasy. It is a part of the ritual.”

She quickly started taking off her dress, one after the other. Sonam stared in disbelief as Matasari stood stark naked in front of her. Sonam’s eyes ran over her body once before she looked away. But in that short look-over, she got a glimpse of thick bush of public hair. Her armpits too, unlike Sonam’s, was dense. Her breasts were certainly a 36D if she was not mistaken, and Mataji’s butt possibly 38. But there could be no doubt that there was absolutely no fat on her body whatsoever for she had a flat waist. She had a stunning, curvaceous, desirable body mainly because she was a working girl.

Matasari held Sonam’s soft hands and smiled. There was already a growing bond between her and Sonam, and both knew that they would become more than close to one another after the wedding. They walked up to the door, and pushing it aside, walked into Balwant’s bedroom where he stood beside the bed, like a groom. Only, this groom was stark naked, just as naked as the two women who entered holding each other’s hand.

The naked Balwant gaped. True he had heard Matasari telling him that the priestess would also have to be naked and so would the marrying couple, but Balwant was not fully prepared for what he saw just then.

Sonam and Matasari had both entered the room and both were bereft of any clothes. Excepting for Sonam, who wore the wedding ornaments.

Mentally, Balwant’s mind worked fast to find the differences between the two who stood before him.

He stared at the golden ‘choot-sutra’ that covered Sonam’s vagina, but she knew that it was bald. It didn’t escape his eyes, however, that Matasari had a thick, bushy one. So was the difference in their armpits, with Matasari retaining hers while Sonam’s was clean.

Balwant’s eyes continued with the comparisons.

Sonam had a very fair complexion while Matasari’s was dark and dusky. There was an element of looseness in Sonam’s body, possibly due to the childbirth a few months back. But Matasari had a tight and taut body with exaggerated curves that stood out. Her breasts were certainly bigger than Sonam’s, but they were tight, taut and pointed. The fairer woman’s areola was light brown where as Matasari’s was dark. The size in their nipples varied. Both, however, had very long hair but the texture was different. Matasari’s was coarse and curly while Sonam’s was smooth and silky.

Balwant’s eyes traversed back to Sonam as he looked at her intently. She looked stunning as she stood coyly, wearing just the ornaments that he had handed over to Matasari on her naked body. All, yes all, including the ‘chut-sutra’. But she was without that one ornament that would make her his wife. Balwant had kept the ‘mangalsutra’ aside and had decided that, at the right moment, he would put it around Sonam’s neck. But not now.

At this point, Matasari went to the corner of the room and, from a packet on a table, she took out two, thick, flower garlands.

“Gandharva Vivah does not require any utterances of rigid ‘mantras’ like in prayers. Its sanctity is in its consummation,” said Matasari solemnly, “but there will be some expressions of intention and some performances that will lead to that heavenly union.”

Matasari gave them the garlands and told them to put them around each other’s neck.

Both Balwant and Sonam, out of enormous joy and happiness, placed their garlands around the other.

Once this was done, at Matasari’s guidance, they uttered these lovely words to accept one another. It was surprisingly refreshing to hear, and they wondered how and where Matasari had learnt such vows. Their hearts were filled when they uttered these words.

Balwant: “O!, lovely lady, I seek you and only you, to love, to experience all the seasons and pleasures of life. O! my lovely lady, I take this step with you to experience every season of life. I shall plant my seeds in your womb so that you deliver the children that I desire. To raise a family of our own. Be my wife for ever.”

Sonam: “Feeling one with you, with your consent, I will be the means of your enjoyment of all the senses. Through life’s seasons, I will cherish you in my heart. I will worship you and seek to complete you. And I shall bear your children through your fertile seeds. Take me as your wife for ever.”

Uttering these words, they felt drawn to each other more than ever. Yet, Matasari still had some rituals in mind that she wanted to be completed.

“Balwant, abhi thori si sindoor Sonam ki maang me bhar do. Thori si tikka uthao aar wahan pe lagao, (Balwant, now take a little vermillion and spread it on the partition of her hair. Just lift her tikka and apply on the spot where it was placed.)” Matasari’s voice was now mellowed and soft.

Balwant did as was told but he applied quite a bit and Sonam looked every inch as a new and young bride.

“Now for the final part, before I declare you husband and wife,” Matasari said softly. There was a lot of passion in Matasari’s voice when she spoke again with a shaking voice.

“I know both of you are passionately in love with each other and you are very eager to be wedded. But these rituals must be completed, and in my presence. This is essential.” She said authoritatively.

“Milk, as you know, is used as an offering in many of our prayers. Sonam, don’t feel shy, but there is a small ritual that requires use of woman’s milk. You will have to bend and squeeze your breasts to apply your milk on Balwant’s lund. The significance is that you crave and long for his lund to give you babies, so that you can generate more milk for them,” Matasari said.

Beyond the knowledge of Balwant and Sonam, much of these rituals declared by Matasari were framed by herself. She longed to witness these acts between them in her perverted mind, for these were giving her some unique pleasure. She was bereft of sex for long, for months in fact, as her husband was back in their village and she hadn’t been able to take leave from this family for a visit. A perverted and kinky mind could frame as many of such eye-popping rituals that would satiate her senses.

Sonam’s face was flushed. But Balwant goaded her and she knew she had to comply, and that too in the presence of Matasari. Holding Balwant’s swaying organ, she bent her body and placing her nipples over the black cock, pressed them to pour milk on it by squeezing both the breasts together. Then, with her soft and delicate hands, she rubbed the lund, applying the milk all over the lengthy shaft. When that was done, she looked at Matasari in askance.

“The final ritual now …there is this ritual of the man’s lips on the woman’s yoni, of brushing his lips greedily and showing his craving for the yoni. He must show his desire, his want for his bride. Sonam would do the same with his lingam, her lips must be very wet with the man’s oozing juices. She too must show how hungry she is, how much she lusts for the lund.” Matasari described what was to be followed.

The couple looked at each other before Matasari went on with her description of the ritual.

“Then, when your lips are moist and glossy, you two will kiss and kiss passionately. The sticky kiss between you two make you pati(husband) and patni(wife) wedded in true marriage, but that has then to be consummated on this bed. And I, as your priestess, shall have to witness that before I can declare you two as wedded.” Matasari completed whatever she had to say in one breath.

Every act that Matasari wished to savour she could get so easily by asking them of the couple in her role as a priestess. In their eagerness to be united in secret wedlock, they were complying every ritual and direction to the hilt.

“And remember Balwant, you must put a mangalsutra around her neck before you are allowed to get up on bed for the consummation,” Matasari said seriously.

Both Balwant and Sonam knew what they had to do. They were now keen for the final act of their union, wanted to be tied together in the sacred bond of marriage.

It was first Balwant who initiated the last ritual. He got down on his knees before Sonam and, unlocked the choot-sutra (chastity belt) with the key that he had. He stretched his hands and handed the ornament to Matasari to put it away.

Without further delay, Balwant parted Sonam’s thighs so that her yoni was clearly visible to his eyes and he gaped at it. She was already in heat and the wetness was clearly visible. Balwant inhaled the sweet aroma of her juices before he placed his tongue hungrily on the vulva, parting the lips of the pussy with his thick fingers. He was now engrossed in a ferocious licking, the likes of which Sonam had never seen nor felt before. His lips, his mouth and even most of his cheeks were wet with the juices that escaped from Sonam’s sweet pussy. He stood up.

It was now Sonam’s turn to moisten her lips. Looking at Balwant, she slowly knelt before the man. She held the lund and smelt it deeply for a few moments, moaning for a while. Her tongue was out as she played with the tip of the cock, parting the foreskin to draw out the rawness inside. The sheer sensuality of the tongue swirling and teasing the lund made Balwant shake in pleasure and, even in Sonam’s grip, it throbbed insanely.

Sonam brought it out of her mouth and, holding it within her palm, ran her hand up and down rapidly, making it ooze unrestrained. In moments, the entire length was wet with its own sticky juices. The young girl rubbed her lips on the juice, sometimes holding it against her cheeks as if it was something very dear to her. She placed the tip on her lips again and again, applying the man’s precum till her rosy lips were drenched in the sticky juice of the manly lund. She could smell a bit of her own pee on the cock which had been bathed in it, but that only gave it more desirable. Then, in the end, she got up slowly and stood before her husband to be.

Balwant put his arms around her butt and almost lifted the sexy bride easily with sheer strength. He drew her into him while Sonam put her arms around his neck. Then they kissed lovingly and passionately, their lips not willing to separate.

“I love you Bahu, you are my wife … mine, only mine,” Balwant said.

“I love you also, my dearest, my husband. I am yours and only yours,” Sonam said in all sincerity.

At this stage Balwant stretched a hand and, from underneath the pillows on the bed, took out an ornamental box. He had kept this hidden when Matasari and Sonam were in the other bedroom.

Opening the box, the man took out an exquisite mangalsutra, too beautiful to describe, eager to put it around the bride’s neck.

Balwant looked at his bride once again, so shy in her demeanour, and yet doing each step of their wedding with grace and love. The sheer act of putting on the mangalsutra would mean a culmination of their wedding. Yet this was ‘gandhara vivah’ that mandated copulation of man and woman in front of a witness. A union of body, mind and soul that would bring the essence of wedlock, the urge to procreate and bring to life a new being. One they would love and cherish as their own.

“This mangalsutra belongs to the family and you, my wife, deserve this around your delicate, slender, beautiful neck. And let the pendant, a symbol of my love for you, lie on those shapely, warm, cosy breasts of my lovely wife,” Balwant’s voice had a mix of everything – love, care, sincerity, expectation and the desire for copulation.

Still holding his bahu in his arms with their naked bodies touching each other. The mangalsutra was now hanging deep into Sonam’s chest and down onto her cleavage and brushing her ample breasts. The pair jumped and swayed with every step that she took. Balwant’s dark lund that was hard in anticipation, often brushing her thighs or her bald womanhood leaving a streak of his pre-cum wherever it touched.

Matasari, as their wedding priestess, stood by their sides, naked as a buck. Her pendulous breasts, with dark nipples gracing them, were heaving as she breathed. She was an object of desire in her own right. Matasari had been witnessing, helping and even facilitating much of their rituals so far. Many of these rituals between Balwant and Sonam had aroused her equally. Clearly this was evident in the manner of her hastened breath and the deep flush on her cheeks. Her nipples, somewhat hard now, rose and fell with her breath. Her thighs and legs brushed against each other, a clear manifestation of her deep lustful desires.

Sonam, in the meantime, was filled with a great sense of belonging to this family when Balwant had placed the ornament around her neck. She looked at what lay on her bosom, nestled proudly just above her cleavage. Beautiful in its design and carrying touches of aristocracy, to her it was priceless. As a traditional ornament it must have passed down a few generations, Sonam’s joy knew no boundaries and she felt proud that the patriarch had personally placed it around her neck.

While it should have logically come to her through her marriage with Rajesh yet, for some reason, the patriarch hadn’t parted with it at the time of her marriage to Balwant’s son and heir, two years back. Possibly, this towering man must have had memories of his beloved wife of thirty years that prevented him from parting with it. And yet, at this moment, Babuji hadn’t hesitated to give it to her when he himself wedded this young bride even if it was not a social one but the very secretive style of marriage through sexual union.

To her, it was obvious that Babuji had truly accepted her as his own bride, as his own loving and dear wife instead of what she was when she came into the family as the wife of his son Rajesh. And the final moment of wedlock and union for life had arrived.

Sonam’s face was still smeared with the juices of her elderly husband, her face revealing a young girl in utmost ecstasy and joy at being wedded to a man whom she now loved so deeply, much more than anyone else in her life. She dared and looked at the naked man who stood beside her, her eyes stealing glances at the throbbing black ‘lund’ that jumped up and down.

A little below the shaft she saw and admired the big, spherical sacks that was filled with rich, fertile seeds. These seeds she knew, would fill her womb shortly and she was eager. Sonam was impatient. She wanted to be impregnated that night itself.

Overwhelmed in both love and desire she longed to have her womb filled with these seeds and let nature take its own course so that she could bear a baby, Babuji’s baby, one born out of their intense love for each another. And nature herself had selected this day and night when, she knew, she would be the most fertile, when the egg in her womb would seek and be showered by the rich sperms of this very virile man and now her real husband.

“Kya aap dono tayaar hain? (Are you two prepared)?” It was Matasari who broke their reverie. The couple was more than eager to proceed with completion of the marriage that they had been waiting so eagerly.

The couple looked into each other’s eyes and then back at Matasari as they nodded their head.

“Aab samay ho gaya hai.. Aap dono ke milap ka (The time is now ripe for the consummation of your marriage),” she urged the couple as they waited eagerly for the priestess to give her consent.

“Balwant, ab aap Sonam ko le sakte ho.. Usey apna bana sakte ho (Balwant, you can now take Sonam and make her your own),” Matasari uttered the words with a meaning not lost to anyone. Even her own voice was deep and lustful.

Balwant turned and looked at Matasari with all reverence to the priestess who was observing each of their act, before he turned to Sonam. Sonam stood there like a fascinating goddess with her breasts heaving in anticipation, taking deep breaths. Her face was serious, possibly feeling the occasion to be as such. But, even then, she had an inner lust that was overwhelming her as the final moments of union were drawing near.

Her face was flushed and nipples hard. Her hands hung loosely on her side. A wave of love for Babuji wafted through her face. Oh gosh! How much she loved this man now.

Balwant bent a little and took his woman in his arms. She was light. He picked her up in both his arms and gently placed her on the centre of the bed. A lock of her hair fell on her face making her look even more beautiful. He kissed her on her nose, and with a flick of his fingers, pushed the hair away.

“Bahu.. tum tayar hain (Bahu, are you ready)?” He asked in whispering voice.

She blushed and did not say anything. Her eyes staring at him intensely. The import of the what they were now embarking upon was not lost on either.

Balwant put his lips on her again, this time kissing more passionately and ardently. The touching lips causing a deeper yearning in them as they kissed even more deeply. He licked her lips, moistening them before pushing in his tongue and allowing Sonam to suck on it. He paused just for a moment before he nibbled on her earlobe for a while.

“Aab (Now)?…”. He was reading her mind, questioning her to know if she was ready.

Sonam shyly nodded her head, her lips parted.

Assured that Sonam was now receptive Balwant began exploring with his fingers. He loved foreplay, knew its importance in a woman’s sexual satisfaction. And it helped him to prolong his own ejaculation.

He ran a finger over her lips before he had run it down over neck and then on to the sides of her breasts. They heaved with her breathing and Balwant looked at Sonam with her mouth open. He allowed the finger to rest on a waiting nipple which became taut instantly. He circled both the nubs and bringing along other fingers to clench both and then pinched them softly.

The effect was instantaneous. Aroused, Sonam moaned as she swayed her head on the pillow and moving her pelvis in a show of desire.

Balwant moved even closer, his strong manly body now touching Sonam’s soft, silky flesh. His fingers were easily finding more pleasure spots, his lips and tongue were licking and sucking furiously. She squirmed in bed, her hands on Balwant’s chest. His cock was throbbing between his thighs, about to strike and take what it sought. His breath came deep and fast as he looked at the beautiful, sexy and desirable woman who would be his now. He wanted to touch her more, draw her into his arms and begin the process of consummation and make her his own. Make her his wife. The time had arrived for them. Matasari was watching them, waiting.

Balwant was eager and parted the shivering legs of his bahu and made space. The glistening yoni shone in the dim light of the room. He knelt between her legs, his hands resting on her thighs that were soft and milky. He stooped and kiss the inner thighs.

Matasari, the priestess, took a step forward, coming closer to the bed to get a closer look. She could see the passion in their eyes and even hear their deep breathing and soft moans. Balwant, on the other hand, was pacing his time and absorbing this unique experience of love and sexual union. And he was seasoned lover to know that going slow would, in the end, help him to prolong the actual act. He would get total satisfaction only if the woman got hers! That was the essence of love and sex.

Matasari, however, was getting impatient as she wanted to witness their copulation. In her own arousal, her hand had often found its way between her crotch and, during moments, her fingers ran along her own wet pussy.

“Aab samay ho gaya hai aap dono ke milap ka. Aab der kis ki? (The time has come for your union. Why are you delaying)?” she urged, not hiding her own impatience.

Sonam turned her face and looked at Balwant. Her face was flushed, and her eyes revealed deep arousal. She said nothing, but her eyes implored him on. Balwant’s eyes locked into hers, saw the intense longing. Longing to be taken. Longing to belong. Longing to be bred with his sperms and bear his child in her womb.

Balwant took his cock in his hand. The head was covered with oozing pre-cum, a few drops dripping on to the bed. He smeared the wetness across his shaft. With the palm of his hand and his fingers, he moved the sheath up and down to cover his full phallus in wetness. The sensation sent a current of arousal through him, as it did to the size of his lund. It grew in proportions and it was rock hard.

Sonam watched him play and get ready. She opened her lips. Involuntarily, she run her tongue over her lips to wet them, as if inviting him to her. Balwant placed his now wet finger on her moistened slit, rubbing it hard to increase the arousal in Sonam. He heard her moan softly.

Without any further waiting, he pushed his finger between her swollen lips, running it along the inner walls of her womanhood. Softly and roughly a few moments before the finger sought her clitoris. He felt his finger hit the ‘bud’.

Instantly, he heard a deep moan from the beautiful bride, “Ahhhh, Babuji!”

Sonam squirmed and her pelvis pushed upwards, wanting a deeper penetration of the intruding finger. Balwant knew that she was becoming restless and was searching for the ultimate organ.

But Balwant had other ideas, for he wanted greater arousal in his woman. He continued with his foreplay, rubbing and teasing the woman’s vagina, wanting her to be aroused more, to be insane in need and hunger for his organ. And certainly, he wanted Sonam to take hold of his lund and bring it on to her yoni when she found it impossible to wait.

His hands probed more, digging and pushing and circling fast around her clit. Balwant could make out that it was, at that stage, an exquisitely hot and wet cunt. For her, it seemed the heat was unbearable. Her breathing was coming in rapid pace and she squirmed wildly on the bed, throwing her head about.

“Babujiiii,” she pleaded in the end, unable to hold herself anymore. Her voice was shaking in desire.

“Haan Haan, bahu. Bolo (Yes, Yes, Bahu, tell me),” His own voice was no different. The bastion of resistance to which he was holding on was about to give way. Yet he wanted the ultimate wish to come from the girl.

“Please … Oh please … Babujiii.” Her voice came in ragged intervals.

“Bolo bahu bolo (Tell me Bahu, tell me),” he urged. His fingers still played merrily inside her wanting to evoke her answer. He kept themselves separated without touch except for his thick finger inserted inside her sensitive yoni. Just one finger but that created havoc in Sonam’s aroused mind. He could see that she was now pinching her own nipples, gaping open mouthed at Balwant..

“Aap mujhe apna bana lo,(Make me your own),” that was a long sentence for her to utter in that state of mind.

Balwant had a hand on his lund, jerking it back and forth, as his other hand continued teasing Sonam’s clit without stop. He could feel more juices oozing out and make the surface even smoother and ripe for penetration of his very big organ when the time came.

“Kaise bahu, (How bahu)?” his voice was hoarse but barely audible. He himself unsure how long he could hold on and stay away from actual intercourse.

“Le lo babuji.. Mujhe le lo..aab der nahin(Take me Babuji, Take me … don’t wait now),”

She uttered those words in the throes of her passion. Nothing now seemed to matter to her excepting their union. She wanted him. And wanted him now. That very instant.

“Mere lund se bahu.. Tujhe apne patni banane ke liye? (With my penis … to make you my wife)?” Balwant was drawing out answers.

“Jee.. babuji (Yes, Babuji)” she stuttered.. “Apne lun…lun.. Lund see..mai apki patni (with your penis .. as your wife)” she could not finish the sentence as her shyness trailed into silence.

The arousal in her was intense. She was thrashing her body in anticipation of the union, a desire that came repeatedly into her from the previous night when all they had indulged in was oral fulfilment.

Balwant leaned forward and bent and yet keeping his hands on the side of his bahu, careful not to touch her. He held his strong well-built body over her, with his knees squarely between her parted thighs and legs. His cock throbbed temptingly in front of Sonam, who gaped at it admiringly – for it would soon be inside her and fill her womb.

In the end, she was unable to resist any further as she looked at Balwant’s eyes, staring at her with lust. Her own hands now stretched in front of her, as she brushed the shaft softly with her fingers. She noticed how it jumped a few notches. So vibrant, so lovely. ‘My mard (virile person)’ she thought.

Sonam moaned a few times before she cried out, “Babuji..iss se (Babuji …with this ..)” She couldn’t continue her words but gripped the hard shaft at its girth with both her hands. She tugged at it.

Balwant had been waiting for this signal, that of ‘want’.

He let the tip of the lund rest over her slit, slowly moving it back and forth just like he was doing with his finger. But he let Sonam guide his organ into her. Her ‘tempest’ was now out in the open and glaringly evident.

She cried again and again, as she tried to get him inside her, but with little success… “Babuji… please,” she pleaded helplessly.

Balwant felt happy that it was Sonam herself who succumbed first and drew his cock towards her waiting wet womanhood. rather than himself.

His own resolve was about to crumble, for he was now almost giving in, and he was about take hold of his own hardness and plunge it in without any further delay.

“So you are now ready Bahu? Ready to take this in?” He asked.

“Yes, oh yes,” she cried, “I can’t wait, I want it now, this instant, Babuji.” She was almost begging now.

“Mere Bache ke ma banogi (Want to become a mother to my child)?” Balwant asked without any hesitation, wanting Sonam to be more explicit.

‘Jee.. Jee.. babuji.. Mujhe aaj hee bana do..(Yes, yes … breed me today itself). “Her voice was full of lust and love “apne bache ke ma (a mother to your child).”

Balwant could feel love fill through him for this wonderful woman. She was now ready not only to become his wife but also mother to his child.

He leaned forward and rested his lips one more time on the softer pair of Sonam, in total binding of love and affection.

One final time he murmured lovingly,”Aab legi mera lund.. Bahu (Will you take my cock, Bahu)?”

“Yes, Babuji, ” Sonam said ashamedly but it was full of love.

He would wait no more. A husband couldn’t deny or hold back for so long what his wife was desperately begging for with so much love. This would be the point of consummation. The ultimate moment of union.

Sonam was already holding his manly hardness in hers and now Balwant placed his rough hands over hers. Together, they helped it on the way, pulled eagerly by Sonam and pushed lovingly by Balwant. The opening was tight, yet it was pliable and gave way.

Their wetness helped. He heard a soft moan from Sonam as he felt her yoni adjust to the alien lund, one that she was craving for since the previous night. It was making slow inroads into her ‘choot’ as the vagina is vulgarly called in moments of extreme arousal.

Just then Matasari quickly got up on the bed, an act that surprised both Balwant and Sonam. But soon it was clear to them. She had folded her legs, her legs stretched behind her and her naked lap lay in front of her just like an inviting pillow.

“Sonam beti, ab tu apni sir meri goad mein rakhho. Mai chahti hoon ki jab tujhe Balwant apna banaya to mai teri bilkul kareeb rahoon … sambhog ki waqt tumhari bilkul pas rahini chahiye mujhe. Tum dono ke beech jo batein hogi woh mai soon payuun, har awaz bhi mai uplabdh kar sakoon, (Look girl, you keep your head on my lap. I want that when Balwant takes you, both of you are very near to me. I must be near when sexual intercourse takes place between the two of you and hear the words that you two speak, or even the sounds that you make),” Matasari said.

“Bahu, meri pyari Bahu, (My loving wife),” Sonam could hear her loving husband, as if he wanted to tear into her and have her fully, hitting the walls of her vagina with tremendous force that was painful yet so very pleasurable.

Sonam could only respond with continued utterance of his name, “Babujiiiii. Babujiiiii.”

She had wrapped her legs and arms around the man’s body, unwilling to let him go and wanting him to be tied into her in eternity. In these moments of oneness with this man and husband, his words uttered a few moments back rung in her ears, “Tu banegi mere bache ki Ma? To le bahu, chod mere saath. (You want to become a mother to my child, Bahu? Then come on, fuck together with me).”

Oh my god! Such forceful words which she never imagined she would hear from her ‘sasur’. And yet, she was now hearing from the man, her own ‘sasur’ who had become her husband. And, surprisingly, she wanted to hear it, hear more vulgar, erotic words from him now.

She couldn’t control herself, letting loose her inhibitions fully, as she writhed and arched and pushed herself into the man and uttered herself, “Haan Babuji, chodo mujhe … bhar do mujhe.(Yes, Babuji .. fuck me … fill me with your seeds.” She had lost all modesty and was now a liberated woman whose urges and desires were on uninhibited display.

More thrusts followed – powerful, savage, quick paced, one after the other. Balwant, having at last been able to fuck his bahu whom he had set his mind upon right from the day of her selection, went completely berserk. He went on the rampage, repeatedly plunging and banging his enormous lund into Sonam’s yoni. Frankly, it could hardly meet the onslaught. Sonam cried out … in pain or pleasure Balwant hardly knew. But he stopped in his tracks.

“Did I hurt you, Bahu?” He said with concern.

“I want this pain for it has paved the way to a pleasure I have never felt before. Babujiii don’t stop,” Sonam cried.

They moaned softly, they moaned hard, their physical exertions didn’t exhaust them in the least. Yet, there were traces of sweat as they went on.

Balwant squeezed his bahu, his lovely wife now, holding her rump as he banged her in frenzy. Then, in the final moment of arousal, when he was almost about to burst in his lovely wife’s cunt, he cried out.

“Ahhhhhh bahu, take it.”

Balwant filled Sonam’s yoni with his thick, warm and sticky juices. Spurt after spurt poured into her ‘choot’ and Sonam wondered how much of this fertile semen could this man, her beloved husband now, hold in the sacks below his ‘lund’. She seemed to be in a heaven of pleasure, delirious and insane in the wild thrusts of Babuji. Oh God! How little could Rajesh provide and how impossibly more her husband’s father could build and force into her young, demanding, hungry body!

As she was filled with the sperms, Babuji cried out in a deeply loving voice, “Meri ardhangni (My wife).”

And Sonam was quick to respond, “Mere patidev (My husband).”

When he had released himself fully, when every drop of his endless fertile juices had filled Sonam and even dripped down her thighs, they were panting for breath in each other’s arms. They went on kissing each other most passionately, her lips taken in a firm grip in between the man’s thick lips who was sucking on the soft, rosy, shapely pair of bahu in his arms. She, on the other hand, now held the man’s cheeks in both her hands as she kissed him back.

Yet, the night didn’t end there. To Balwant, with the enormous stamina of a stallion, once was not enough. To Sonam too, with that thoroughly inadequate satisfaction from Rajesh, her eager vagina was receptive to more. And she didn’t hide this craving.

“Babuji … I don’t want the night to end. Sari raat aap mujhe chodna jaise ki mai jaroor aaj raat hi Ma ban sakoon. Kya aap meri arman puri nahin karenge? (I don’t want the night to end. Fuck me for the whole night so that I can become a mother surely. Will you not fulfil my deepest wish tonight … to be the mother to your baby?” Sonam was uncontrollably sensual now. She could feel a growing love for the man and she was willing to do anything for him, even if it meant everyone knowing that she had wedded Babuji and was bearing his child.

“Yes Bahu, I too have the same desire to have you impregnated tonight itself, the very night that we two have married. I want Matasari to be a witness to not only our marriage but also your pregnancy through my seeds.” Balwant said emotionally.

Balwant held Sonam’s hands and looked into her eyes and there was desire in the loving couple. He was still not spent and he wanted that his new bride should see his prowess and be satisfied fully when the night ended.

“Bahu, aaj raat tujhe main bar bar chodunga ..mera lund aaj tere chut ke liye pagal hai … dekh phir se isme takat aa gaya (Bahu, I shall fuck you repeatedly tonight … my cock is crazy for you cunt … just see there is already a growing hardness in it).” Sonam looked amazed at the rising hardness of the man’s lund.

Astonished, yet filled with pride at the immense virility of her newly married husband, she found a growing need and deep desire to be impregnated in these moments of their heavenly wedlock.

“Oh Babuji! Oh my husband! Oh my love! Aaj raat hi aap mujhe jitni bar ho sake chodna jaise ki mai jaroor ma banu. Meri ye kamana aap nirash na kijiye.(Fuck me as many times as you must tonight so that I can become a mother. Do not dishearten me in this longing of mine.” She started kissing the man very passionately, holding the man’s rugged face with both her soft hands. Babuji’s face was covered with her misty breath and her saliva as he pulled her nearer, almost crushing the young girl.

“Jaroor bahu!Tumhari ye kamana puri hogi. Tumhari goad mein mera ek do bacha hogi jise hum dono pyar se palan karenge.(Of course Bahu, your wish will be fulfilled. You will get a child in your womb who will grow up in our love.” Babuji also was gripped in passion as he began sucking on the young bahu’s pouting moist lips.

Their moans became continuous and their bodies writhed and squirmed on the bed that was theirs for now for life. And Matasari, naked as she was herself, watched them, not able to hide many moans herself.

“Yes, you must make her pregnant tonight itself Balwant, for, it is said that the best gandharva marriage is that in which the woman conceives in the first few hours of wedlock. And one pregnancy that is also witnessed by someone, who in your case, is also the priestess. Kamdev (Cupid) is said to be the happiest.” Matasari said passionately.

“Toh abhi aap dono phir se shuroo karo … lekin abhi thori si pharak hona chahiye. Sonam, aab tum ek kutiyah ki tarah ho jao … samjhi naa (Then you two begin again … but with a difference. Sonam, be like a bitch and be taken Rocky(D)gy style. You know what I mean surely?” Matasari looked at Sonam and then at Balwant.

Sonam was red in the face while there was a grin in the face of Babuji. Sonam had heard about this sexual position from two of her friends but had never done it before. Rajesh was a thoroughly uninteresting sexual partner. Her friends had told her about the unique pleasures that a woman can derive in this position and that she had wanted even before her marriage to Rajesh.

Matasari saw how Sonam was blushing and caringly patted her on the back. “Sharmao matt Sonam. Balki apna woh sundar, komal, pyasi badan ko khush karo. (Don’t feel ashamed Sonam. Rather, get your lovely, soft and silky body get pleasure. I am assuring you that you will reach heavenly pleasure and your womb will receive all your husband’s sperms deep inside. You want that don’t you? You are now at the height of your fertility and this is the best position for you to get pregnant … something that both of you desire so much.)

Even if Balwant wanted to proceed immediately, Sonam was feeling uneasy. But Matasari was not one to give up.

“Aur der na karna. Ulta ho jao aur apni badan ko haath aur ghutane se upar rakhho (Don’t delay Sonam. Turn around and rest your body on your hands and knees).”

Seeing Sonam stiil hesitant Matasari came and held her hand. Looking in her eyes very deeply she smiled before saying, “kya tum bacha nahin chahti ho Sonam (You don’t want children, Sonam? ”

Sonam nodded her head vigorously, expressing her deep desire to have a child, “Haan Matasari, is mein koi shak nahin. Saach mein mai unka bacha apni goad mein paney ke liye taras rahi hoon (Yes Matasari, there’s no doubt about it. I really long to carry his child in my womb” She stole a glance at the towering man and then again at the throbbing lund.

“Toh der kis liye? (Then why delay?)” Matasari said and without further fuss, herself started guiding the young bahu to the desired Rocky(D)gy posture as required for the new union. Once Sonam was on her hands and knees, Matasari patted the area just over her butt curves, and along her spinal cord pushing the back down so that, finally, only her ass was high in the air. Her thighs were pushed apart by Matasari, exposing her moist pussy which stood out prominently and eager to receive what it cherished and longed for. In the end, the priestess Matasari had softly pushed the young bahu’s face on to the pillow.

The bahu was now a picture of ultimate sexuality and the visibly quivering pussy indicated a young woman ready to receive the powerful cock of a stud in the most intimate position imaginable. Trickles of escaping juices from her exquisite and expectant pussy was dripping down the upper region of the thighs, and there could be no doubt about her deep arousal and needs.

Yet, Matasari blurted out, “mujhe dekhne do tum saach mein pati ka lund ke liye taiyar ho ya nahin. (Wait, let me see if you are really prepared to receive your husband’s cock).She had come behind the bahu, looked at the dripping pussy, brought her own face near the spot and then, to the complete surprise of both Balwant and Sonam, taken a few deep breaths and sniffing the aroma of the pretty bahu’s running juices.

“Haan, yeh hui naa baat. Ab tum puree taiyar ho, unka lund ke liye tumhari chahat jhutii nahin. (Yes, now it is clear that there is no falsehood in your craving).”

Matasari explained how the smell from a leaking pussy would indicate the degree of a woman’s arousal. She turned to Balwant and then, in a commanding voice, said, “Balwant aab apni bahu taiyar hai. Aur der nahin.Jao, ek pati ka farz pura karo (Balwant, your wife is now ready. Don’t delay any further but go and do your duty).”

Babuji was only too willing to fulfill this duty of not just a husband but that of a virile man, a ‘sachha mard’ which already showed itself with the hardened, throbbing, lund from whose tip drops of precum had gathered and about to leak onto the bedsheet. He came forward, pushing himself on his knees to position behind the bahu’s upraised butt that now clearly showed the lips of her wet pussy. It was a sight that was enough to make the man’s lund jump up and down crazily. Matasari, unknown to the man and his bahu, was stealing glances at the majestic black organ and there could be no doubt that the look in her eyes was one of lust and longing.

“Babuji,” squealed the extremely aroused and excited bahu, “Why are you delaying. I cannot wait any longer, Babuji.” Here was a young woman who had reached the end of her patience. She was extremely sensual, she was fully aroused and particularly, she was now obsessed with being inseminated by this man’s virile seeds and bear his child in her womb.

Babuji had bent down and typically, like the four-legged animal whose sexual position the couple now longed for, started to sniff the spread out and oozing ‘choot’ of the young bahu.

“Ahhhhh! What an erotically sweet aroma Bahu! Iski swad bhi lena hai mujhe. Tumhari koi apatti hai, pyari Sonam (I have to taste this too. You have no objection, my loving Sonam)?” The voice of the man was overflowing with lust.

How could the shy, timid bahu even nod her head? How could she tell him that it was in the deepest recesses of her mind to have babuji’s greedy tongue roam and lick at the spot which was her very identity? Instead, she simply hid her face in the pillow on which her head rested. It was only when Matasari prodded her for an answer that there was a perceptible movement in the silky hair that covered Sonam’s head.

This was enough of an answer and he didn’t wait further. With two fingers from both his hands, he slowly inserted them and the oozing wetness at the spot eased their entry. Babuji was pushing the walls on both sides, parting the girl’s vagina and making as much space as he could. He was searching intently, looking deeply inside the yawning crevice that lay before him. He proceeded with what he wanted to do.

His hot, wet lips were on the crevice that belonged to his bahu. Soon, his tongue was out as he began to lick. The first touch of the man’s tongue sent her vagina in a trembling spin. It quivered sufficiently for Babuji to feel it, and he only dug in more, searching the clitoris. And as his tongue hit the spot, more juices gushed out. Babuji lapped the vulva like a Rocky(D). He had stretched his long hands and gripped the two juicy dangling breasts and the grapes that perched on the top. Kneading the breasts and then squeezing the nipples in sheer joy Babuji could only exclaim, “Ahhhhhhh …so lovely” before he dug his face into the pussy lips that opened out before him.

It was only when he felt sufficiently satiated with the taste of bahu’s juices and he saw his sexy bahu shaking uncontrollably as she was swept in utter need that he raised his waist. Then, while remaining on his knees, he brought his magnificent lund on the quivering spot. He placed two hands on the two shapely, soft and very fair butt curves and mildly played with the fleshy pair. Over and over he ran his hands on the softness that she possessed.

“Bahu, tu taiyar hai naa? Toh aab le, samal ise, (Bahu, you are prepared, aren’t you? Then handle this).” he bellowed.

Then, suddenly, he had pushed apart the curves forcefully, parting the pink vaginal lips and, with an animal like grunt, started to push in his manly lund… a little at first. He had now begun inserting the huge bulbous head of his penis into Sonam’s vagina and could feel her tremble before she squealed, “Hey Bhagwan (Oh god!)!” She had dug her face into the pillow, muffling all sounds herself as if she didn’t want either Babuji or Matasari to hear the erotic and ‘gaandi’ (dirty) words that were bound to escape her lips at this stage of her intense arousal.

To Sonam, this was a unique position, one that she had heard so much about and yet whose pleasures were entirely unknown to her in her marriage to even someone so young as Rajesh. Young men are more likely to experiment and experience these erotic positions, and yet he had not ever tried any move beyond the stale, conservative, missionary position. But this man, this virile man, this man who was, till yesterday, her father-in-law, was giving her the heavenly tastes of raw, uninhibited, unexplored sex. The more she thought about it, the more she loved the man and the more she responded to the thrusts that had begun on her raised pussy. And yes, this was the way for her to get babies …his babies, through his seeds. And she was proud of it. Even if, when she did conceive, and the entire household knew whose child she carried in her womb, she wouldn’t feel bad or have any remorse but walk about proudly with the enlarged belly to prove just that.

At this point babuji had bent his body, resting his lips on the bahu’s naked neck and wrapped his hands around the girl. With two rough, big hands he gripped the breasts, squeezing and kneading the pair, pinching the tits and pulling and tugging on them. At the same time, powerful thrusts continued to pound the bahu’s pussy. Hard, rough, painful thrusts banged her. Trickles of milk leaked out from the still sensitive and lactating nipples. The bedsheet was soon clearly wet and sticky.

“Can I fuck your womb to my heart’s content bahu?” he asked, as if he had waited for permission! Another thrust hit her instantly.

Sonam cried something that was inaudible to the others. What was she saying? Balwant wanted to know but couldn’t part from the union of their sexes. It was Matasari who bent down, trying to capture the inaudible utterances of the young bahu.

“Oh Babuji!Chodo mujhe, jitni jor ho sakey … choro nahin. Meri pyas bujha do babuji … mai taras rahi hoon aap ke liye … meri goad bhar do babuji (Fuck me, fuck me as hard as you can … don’t spare me. Fulfil my need, for I hunger for you … fill my womb, Babuji) aaahhh aaaahhh” she went on moaning.

Matasari, whose ears were almost near the Sonam’s mouth, heard every word that she was uttering and was visibly excited. She started stroking the bahu’s head softly, caringly.

“Haan bitiya, tumhara mard jo tumhe chod raha hai … aaj raat ki ye sambhog mein tum jaroor maa banogi. Itni taras tumhari? tumhari kamana jaroor nibhayga tumhara mard …chinta mat karo bahu. milan mein kho jao, (Yes girl! Your virile husband is fucking you. You will certainly be a mother in tonight’s union because there is so much urge in you. Your wishes will certainly be fulfilled by your man. Don’t worry, just go on and enjoy being fucked by him),” Matasari said and then explained to Sonam how she should squeeze her own pussy walls and draw in the colossal penis of her husband.

Suddenly, with a powerfully violent thrust, babuji tore through the cervical ring and embedded the mammoth rockhard cock deep into Sonam’s womb, directly over her eggs. He was violent, rough and aggressive as he plundered the young vagina. Holding the soft arms of his bahu in a vice like grip, he was now biting the neck and shoulders of the delicate girl. Bruises were apparent on the soft, fair skin, but he didn’t stop.

Soon, he had raised a naked hand of his bahu and dug in his nose in her shaved armpit. Little beads of sweat had formed at the spot due to their intense sexual activity and the man was inhaling deeply in delight. The more he smelled the more forcefully he fucked the girl. Sonam grunted as the shaft repeatedly thudded though the womb. He began to thrust faster and faster in total frenzy, almost insanely, as if his only aim was to plunder the receiving womb. He pulled her near him, wanting her small body to be squeezed into his own self, to be united for eternity. Sonam could feel her climax building up rapidly and she realised she could not control herself any more. Her organism burst out from her womb.

Sonam screamed out aloud, ” Ahhhhhhhh …ahhhhhhhhhhh … I can’t wait any longer. Ohh Babuji, give me your hot, thick sperms nowwww.” She bit into the pillow on which her head rested. If it was Balwant’s back or chest, he would have bled in the intensity of that bite.

Babuji grabbed her at the slim waist as he thrust more. His mammoth organ began bucking with incredible force. Then, with an animal-like roar, he barked, ” Aaab lo, meri raandi bibi, aaj tujhe maa banake hi chorunga. (Take this, my slut wife. Today I’ll stop only after I have made you a mother!)”

Sonam felt her womb being whipped violently around by the first bursts of Babuji’s manly, hot seeds that fired directly on to her eggs deep inside the womb. A torrent of hot semen was shot without mercy, hitting the linings of the womb. Each burst generated an animal like bark from him in a statacco sound of “Le le… ye le …ye le ..aur le …raandi ki tarah le ..banegi meri randi?… le randi …apni choot samal. (Take .. take this … and this .. and this … take it like a whore … want to be my slut? Take this slut … take care of your cunt, you slut).”

Sonam was mesmerised. She could not believe the words that were being spit by the man but, in her inner self, every word only increased the level of desire, need and lust. In these moments of complete satisfaction, she wondered how this man, much past fifty, this man who was her sasur before he had become her husband a little while ago, one who was so respected by all and herself too, could utter such ‘gaandi’ words. And more so, how could the man provide such continuous burst of his sperms and that too, the second time that night.

Spent of his enormous load, he pushed Sonam so that she fell sideways from the Rocky(D)gie position that she was. Babuji easily turned her over and she now lay on her back, her taut breasts and erect nipples pointing up towards the ceiling. Her choot leaked his thick ‘cum’ that was now mixed with her own juices. Babuji collapsed on her bahu and held her closely to him in a bondage of love and oneness.

And as they held one another, as each looked at the other lovingly, their lips couldn’t stay apart. They kissed deeply again and again till babuji finally said, ” Thodi si bishram bahu, phir karte hain? Aur ek prakar se? Woh bhi tujhe pasand ayegi jaroor. (Some rest Bahu, before I do it again. In a different way? You will like that too).”

Sonam hid her face in the naked, hairy, manly chest of her newly wedded husband. But Balwant could feel her nod her head in a gesture of approval.

Just then they heard Matasari’s voice as she moved aside from Sonam to make her presence felt by the wedded couple.

“Balwant! Sonam! Aab gurudakhsina dene paregi tum dono ko. Tumhe is mein koi iqrar nahin hai nah (You have to offer ‘returns’ to the priestess for concluding this marriage. You have no objections to that)?” Matasari’s voice was demanding. A priest or priestess is entitled to ‘fees’ in lieu of his or services for conducting a marriage.

“Haan! Haan! Mataji. Joh bhi mangna hai who mango (Yes, yes, Mataji, ask whatever you want).” Balwant said, already filled in deep happiness and satisfaction at the copulation with his new bride. Sonam too nodded her head, as if agreeing to what her husband was ready to offer.

There was silence in the room for a while excepting for Matasari’s deep and quick breathing. Her breasts heaved, and her mouth parted, as she looked at both Balwant and Sonam in succession. There could be no doubt that the face of the priestess was full of desire and lust. She had witnessed too much ‘sex’ between the newlyweds to be entirely passive and was herself now in an uncontrolled heat.

By : AshmitaMadhukar

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