Indian Housewife Prenuptial Agreement with her Father-In-Law – Life of Indian Housewife

108 Min Read

It was past 7.00 when the bright sunlight woke up Sonam. She was horrified and embarrassed at having woken up so late. As a bahu, she always got up much earlier, and by this time she was in the prayer room after her bath. By 8.00 everyone would be at the dining table, having their ‘nasta’ (breakfast), with the patriarch at the farthest end of the table and his bahu always beside him. This was his wish and command.

“Babuji. Get up, get up …oh my god, I am so late!” She pushed the patriarch a few times and picking up her tattered nightie that lay on the bed, she hurriedly got down from the bed. But that was the farthest that she could get.

Balwant just stretched his strong pair of hands and gripped the pretty bahu by her waist. He pulled her on to the bed and on to his lap. Both were completely naked.

The ‘hardness’ of the patriarch immediately on awakening was not lost on Sonam. She felt the eager ‘lund’ probing the crack of her rump and strong hands that were soon mauling her milk laden breasts. A squirt or two trickled on to Balwants hands.

“Choriye Babuji (Leave me, Babuji),” she cried out. She felt excited but stifled her want because of her daily chores that needed her attention and were no less demanding.

“Why? A bahu’s rightful place is on her sasur’s (father-in-law) lap,” Balwant laughed as he fondled her.

He swung Sonam on the bed so that she now lay face down with Balwant on top. He was still gripping her breasts.

“Babuji, please! I am late. I’ll not be able to face the household if you hold me back further,” Sonam wailed. Her cries fell on the deaf ears of an aroused mind.

Balwant was sliding his body down over Sonam’s back. He kissed her neck and then on her shoulders, gradually moving down across her soft creamy body. He released her breasts when she reached her rump, parted the soft, fleshy curves of her butt and stared at the crack and the hole that it nestled.

“So lovely,” he uttered, not hiding the intensity of his rising lust. Unable to resist, he had brought his face down on to the spot.

Balwant sniffed the area as he dug in his nose.

“Ahhh!” He exclaimed, as he took in whiffs at the spot, one after the other.

Sonam wriggled on bed, trying to free herself. She was deeply embarrassed at the patriarch’s inappropriate outbursts on such an intimate part of her body. Balwant didn’t hide his intoxication, sniffing and moaning as his eyes remained closed.

In one moment of Balwant’s slackness Sonam slid out of his grip, almost pushing her feet on the man’s shoulders with all her strength for leverage to break free. Before Balwant could realize the intentions of his prey, Sonam was out from his clutches.

With her tattered nightie still in her hands, she quickly ran away to the adjacent bedroom which was hers. In her hurry, Sonam forgot to take the wet panties that she had thrown underneath the bed, an inadvertence she would rue later.

In less than an hour she had her bath and got ready for the day. She was wearing a pretty, red saree with a golden border, a matching golden silk blouse and a red petticoat. Underneath, she was wearing the most exotic pink lingerie, full of laces and even had a thin frill border. The bra sat nicely on her breasts, extending the beauty and shape of her already beautiful curves of her bust.

Sonam looked at the mirror and wondered if she had worn it for her Babuji. Would he look at it admiringly? Would he fondle her breasts? She smiled at herself. How the man had taken over her mind! Her thoughts always revolved around him alone.

She parted her hair and applied a thin line of vermilion like Hindu housewives do. But she was unsure who it was for. Was it only for Rajesh to whom she was married? Or, for someone nearer? After her torrid love making with Babuji the previous night, was it for this elderly father-in-law?

She rushed quickly to the prayer room. She just hoped that Babuji would have got up and completed his bath. If he too was late! Oh god, what would everyone think?

Normally, he was in the sitting room by 6.45 having his morning cup of tea, doing rounds at the cow shed, inspecting his cows, talking with the servants and telling them their outside duties for the day. Then sharp at 8.00, he would come and sit at the dining table. Today, even he was late and that must have been a surprise to everyone.

Sonam completed her prayers in fifteen minutes, but didn’t forget to pray for her husband which she usually did. But this day, she had some special thoughts and prayers for her Babuji too, wishing him well, wishing his long life and yes, praying for their love.

Oh god! How much she was in love with him now.

Soon, she hurried to the kitchen, first to see that the cook had prepared the ‘nasta’ or if they required her help. Satisfied, she dashed across to the dining room where everyone seemed to stare at her for being late. She should have been the first at the dining table, as others came in one by one. Today, she was the last. It was 8.10. She was embarrassed and apologized, first to Babuji, for that was the custom in the rich yet rural family, and then to the others who were all elder to her.

The patriarch was, fittingly, sitting at the head of the table. The first seat from that end was vacant, obviously left for the loving bahu of the household, Sonam. She came and sat down demurely, her head covered with the pallu of her saree.

Such was Sonam’s embarrassment at being late that she fumbled with the spoon in her hand. Unfortunately, the spoon slipped out of her hand and fell on to the floor. Sonam blushed in more embarrassment. The young bahu of the house was making a mess of everything.

She mumbled a soft apology, as she bent down to pick up the spoon.

“Meri galti hui. Mujhe maf kijiye Babuji (I am at fault, forgive me),” her voice was most apologetic.

In the process of picking up the spoon, as she bent down her pallu (saree end covering her breasts) slipped of her shoulder. An involuntary glance at her breasts and cleavage revealed her curves. Just underneath the blouse, she glanced at the outlines of her lace bra. She knew Babuji would be happy if he saw her in her latest lingerie pair.

She was about to get up and out from underneath the table when her eyes fell on the parted thighs of Babuji sitting on his chair. The ‘dhoti’ that he was wearing couldn’t hide the bulge that lay in between. The two orbs and the thick cock that rested on them were conspicuous under the thin fabric that comprised the dhoti.

Sonam’s thoughts, for an instant, went back to the previous night and the rampaging organ that was resting barely a couple of feet away from her face.

It was then that the horror of her forgetfulness hit her! Oh my God! What had she done! Her soiled panties was lying on the floor of Babuji’s bedroom. Imagine! Bahu’s panties under the master’s bed! That too, the panties that would have the unmistakable signs of the man’s sticky cum! Sonam turned red in the face. She couldn’t get the patriarch’s attention from underneath the table and neither could she remain in that position for long. She gave a mild tug on his dhoti before she got up.

Babuji must have realized something was amiss but he said nothing. He just glanced at Sonam who was trying to say everything with her eyes that expressed an imminent danger. Just then Matasari entered the room, carrying the awoken child in her arms.

Anjali, Anurudh’s wife, asked, “Where were you Matasari? You are supposed to be here during breakfast. You know that.”

“I was cleaning malik’s (master of the house) bedroom,” she said seriously. What was left unsaid was that it was not her fault if the man was late in vacating his room. Obviously, she was hinting that the master had got up unusually late himself and she could attend to it after the master had vacated.

“I did your room too, Bahurani,” Matasari continued to say, but she smiled mischievously at her. Sonam was certain that the maid had found her panties and blushed. The patriarch might have witnessed it.

Soon everyone was getting up from the dining table having finished their meal. As Sonam got up Balwant told her, “Bahu, I want to have another cup of tea … prepared by you.”

Turning to Matasari his booming voice said,” Won’t the child have his bath now? Get him ready. Bahu will go to her room shortly after she gives me a cup of tea.” Matasari turned and quickly left the room. So did the others.

Everyone feared the patriarch. Babuji and Bahu were left alone now.

“You wanted to say something Bahu?” the master of the house asked. He was worried that something might have happened to his grandson that had made his bahu restless.

Breathlessly and in whispers, Sonam said, “Babuji, I made a big mistake. I forgot to bring away my panties from your room this morning. I left it underneath the bed where I threw it after you cleaned me. You heard what Matasari said just now? She must have seen my undergarment in your room. Oh! What will she think? Babuji I am scared!”

Sonam’s face didn’t hide what she felt. She was now tense, scared and nervous. She looked at her Babuji. Was he angry on her? Or would he take control and do whatever he thought would be best to protect the dignity of his bahu and himself?

“Toh tum apni kachhi mere bedroom pe chor ke chali ayii? (So you left your panties in my bedroom?)” Balwant asked his bahu. There was no anger in his voice, no concern at all. Just understanding and sympathy for his bahu.

Although he wanted to, he could not reach out and take her in his arms at that moment. He wanted to hold her hand and reassure her that there was no reason for worry. Yet, there were concerns – maids are easily the quickest carriers of gossip. It would be a source of immense speculation, and certainly spicy for the household and neighbourhood, if the news about the bahu’s missing panties got leaked.

“Do not worry bahu. It will be fine.” Balwant assured her.

“But Babuji.. ” Her face filled with alarm and eyes moist as she stifled her cry.

He wanted to reach out and hold her hand. Yet he restrained himself.

“I will take care of it bahu.” His voice sounded cool but there was sternness and resolve.

She quickly wiped a tear with the help of the pallu of her saree.

“Go to your room bahu. I will speak to Matasari. And you do not worry. All will be fine.” His voice exuded the confidence that he always had in his ability to take care of things.

“Yes, Babuji,” Sonam said and slowly proceeded towards her bedroom. There was relief in her face after Babuji’s reassurance. She gathered her pallu over her sleeveless blouse, covering her ample and proud breasts underneath the soft fabric.

Balwant, one for never putting anything till later, got up and walked down to the courtyard where the maid, Matasari was playing with Varun in her arms.

“Matasari..” he beckoned, carrying the authority of the head of the family, “Go and leave Varun with bahu. Then you come here, I have something to till you.”

“Ji babuji,” she bowed her head and hurriedly picked up Varun and went off in a hurry.

Balwant too got up after Sonam had walked away. Everyone else had moved away to other parts of the house after breakfast. The morning sun was now lighting up the courtyard. The patriarch walked along the corridor glancing at the closed door of Sonam’s bedroom. He felt an urge to walk in but resisted. He’ll have all the opportunity at night to hold and fondle his lovely bahu.

Balwant opened his bedroom door and walked across to his favorite lounging chair. He waited for Matasari and thinking about this small predicament that had fallen on him and Sonam.

Balwant heard the shuffle of Matasari’s feet as she approached his room. She and her husband were longtime employees of the household. She was around thirty-three years of age and, like rural womenfolk involved in strenuous physical activities since childhood, had a very shapely figure. She had a somewhat dark complexion, having been exposed to harsh sunlight, but she had a longish face that was rather pretty in a way. And she did have a lovely smile and was very lively.

Matasari’s husband, due to exigencies at home, had sought Balwant’s permission and left for his distant village a year back. Matasari would visit her husband every six months or so. Her last visit was about four months back.

“Babuji, aapne bulaya? (Master, you have called me)?” she asked from the door.

“Yes, yes … Matasari.. come inside.” His voice was soft, not betraying the anxiety in his mind.

“Yes Babuji.” She walked in. As was customary she left the door open. She came and stood in front of Balwant with hands folded. Her saree wrapped around her torso and the pallu across her shoulder and head.

“How’s your husband?”

Her face was polite and grateful, “He’s ok I think. I haven’t talked with him for quite some time. But his brother was here a week back. I learnt from him that everything is fine back home.”

Balwant nodded. “I just hope you are happy. You have been staying alone for a long time without your husband.”

“Why not, Babuji? You all take so much care and are so watchful of my needs. Why shouldn’t I be happy?”

“Even then. After all, you stay alone.” Balwant crossed his muscular legs, covering part of the dhoti beyond the thighs.

“I have become used to this life. What can I do?” She sighed one, not hiding her disappointment at having to live without her husband and the needs of a separated couple. But she quickly recovered.

“Then why don’t you call him back? What work does he have in the village and living without his wife?” Balwant was trying to sound considerate and sympathetic before he went on to discuss the embarrassing topic on Sonam’s panties.

“No Babuji. I am okay.” She felt a bit uneasy and pulled her pallu further across her body as she watched Balwant uncross his legs.

Balwant kept silent for a while as the maid fiddled with the end of her saree pallu. Abruptly, he fired the bombshell without warning as he watched her reaction.

“Have you cleaned my room this morning?”

“Yes Babuji,” her face darkened as the import of his question hit her.

“When?” He asked calmly without betraying any emotion.

“Just a while ago.” Her face was visibly distraught, and her breathing was rapid.

“Did you find anything?” Straight, to the point. Balwant wanted to get this over with quickly.

“Wh …what Babuji?” She stammered, stalling for time. She had no idea that the patriarch would ask this question about an intimate apparel of a woman, and his bahu.

“Go on. Speak.” His words were now definitely firmer, and serious.

“Yes, Babuji” Her face looking down at the floor. She was not sure how to answer his question.

Balwant was unrelenting. “Batao… Kya mila tha (Tell me, what did you get)?” he had lowered his voice, but the message was distinct.

“Babujiiiiii …” Matasari was astounded when Balwant questioned her in that manner.

“Tell me. Don’t be afraid, Matasari.”

The maid hesitated before she blurted, “Kachi (Panties) …from underneath your bed,” she trembled to say this to the master.

“Whose is it, eh?” More embarrassing question for the maid.

Matasari covered her face. The questions were getting more and more difficult for a woman to answer. Who would, in real life, ever talk about such matters with a man and that too with the master of the house. And now to have to talk to Babuji about them! She was distraught.

“Whose is it?” He repeated himself, unmoved and with an expressionless face.

“Bahuji ki …I think it is hers,” she quickly went through with her answer.

“How can you say?”

“I wash her innerwears … Babuji, so I know,” the maid answered.

“Do you know what that means, Matasari?” His voice soft and eyes penetrating hers

No words came out. She nodded.

“And, and … did you see the stains on my bedsheet?” He asked.

Matasari again nodded her head.

“Go and close the door,” Balwant said.

She froze at first, reservations and shyness getting hold of her. But then, she slowly moved towards the door, shutting it and came over to Balwant.

“Come here …” he pointed to the carpeted area in front of his seat.

Matasari slowly walked up to him and stood in front. He reached out, took her hand, and pulled her down to sit on the floor.

“Have you talked with anyone about this?” He asked. His hand still holding hers but neither she nor the patriarch made any attempt to free their hands.

“Nahin (No), Babuji.”

“Matasari.. dhyan se suno …yeh hamisha tumhere under hee rahna chaheye ( Listen carefully, Matasari .. this should always remain within you).” Balwant’s voice was commanding.

“Yes Babuji.” Her cold hands were starting to warm up within the big palms of the master.

“I have always treated you and your husband very close to me and my family. I hope you realize that, Matasari?”

“Yes, Babuji.., ” she said, nodding her head firmly.

“You will not even tell your husband. Understand?”

She nodded before respectfully affirming, “No, I will never tell him. Believe me, malik (master).”

“Matasari .. I have always relied on your loyalty. Don’t ever betray that trust.” He pressed her hands.

The maid was embarrassed and blushed.

“I will take care of you. In turn, you will take care of me and Bahurani. We will be mutually helpful to one another, trust me.” Was it only her trust that Balwant was seeking? Was there any hidden intent?

She was voiceless. Her eyes were brimming as she nodded.

He reached out and took her face in his big hands.

“Batao kya karun tumhere liye. Paise ki baat mut karna .. wo mai dekh lunga. (Tell me, what I can do for you? Don’t just talk about money for I’ll meet that requirement.” The patriarch’s voice was husky.

She stared at him, trying to fathom the inner meaning of what Balwant Singh was saying.

“Go on. Tell me … Matasari. Don’t fear.” He urged. His fingers still touching her cheeks. A shiver ran through Matasari.

“Not now, Babuji.. Some time later … when the time comes,” her tremulous voice betraying fear and emotions too. She decided to keep her wish on hold. Only time will help her to extract the best at that point of time.

Bahut Acha. Kabhi bhi.. Samaj gai na (Very good. Whenever you wish, eh? You understand?” He repeated his offer.

“Jee.. Babuji. (Yes master!)” She was shivering with an odd sensation.

“Where have you kept that ‘kachi’ (panties)?” Balwant asked abruptly.

“Babuji … In my room.”

“Go and bring it now,” he advised her, pulling her up on her feet.

Matasari returned quickly with an unwashed saree in her hand which Sonam had kept aside for washing. The soiled panties was hidden inside the folds of the saree. She bolted the door again.

He nodded to her, “Show me.”

She opened the folds of the saree in front of the patriarch. Visible before the eyes of Balwant lay the pinkish white panties of his bahu. Clearly visible were abundant streaks of dry ‘cum’ – evidence of intense sexual intercourse and discharge. It also spoke of the rich virility of the man …for the discharge was by no means meager.

“Jante ho .. yeh kya hai..(you know what this is)?” He asked her blatantly as his fingers slowly brushed over the dry coating on the surface of the flimsy fabric.

“Yes … Babuji.” She whispered.


“Yours … there’s so much!” She couldn’t look at Balwants’s face and, having said so, immediately bit her fingers in shame.

He nodded. “Yes, there’s lot of it.” He remained passive but gloated in pride at his virility.

The maid kept quiet, breathing deeply.

“You keep those here,” he pointed to the sofa and then continued, “and go by that door and call bahurani. And remember to clean my bed-sheet today itself.” He had pointed at the connecting door between his room and Sonam’s.

“Babuji..” she was hesitant.

“Yes, yes …go,” and then continued “Just remember, you just take care of your bahurani, she must never be put into any difficulty.”

“Yes, Babuji.. I know.”

She went to the connecting door and knocked mildly. The door opened with Sonam standing beside it and cradling Varun in her arms. Matasari took the baby from Sonam’s arms and pointed towards Balwant.

“Bahu.. Babuji bula rahen hain (babuji is calling you),” Matasari told Sonam.

Sonam waited at the door for a few moments. Matasari’s face was submissive and yet they were protective. She was the benign servant of Sonam but at the same time, she had to take care of her.

“Come..” Matasari whispered and almost led Sonam to the patriarch.

“Bahu..” He called her lovingly.

“Babuji..” Sonam said shyly, standing with her head bowed.

“Everything is okay…,” he assured, “I have spoken with Matasari. She has understood everything. Her work from now on would be to look after you and take care of you. Understood Bahu?”

Sonam eyes met with Balwant’s and his gentle smile put her at ease. She knew it would be alright.

“You can talk with Matasari on any matter. Any matter. She will maintain secrecy.” Balwant said to Sonam. He looked at Matasari too, who nodded.

“Aur wo apne sath le jana (and take those with you).” He pointed to the folded used saree.

“Yes Babuji,” Sonam said, as she walked across to pick up the saree and what lay hidden inside. Matasari quickly dashed across.

“Bahurani, please give it me,” she said in an act of servitude as Sonam picked up the saree and her hidden undergarment. She smiled at Sonam as their hands touched.

“Should I clean the undergarment and keep it in your wardrobe?” she whispered, but the patriarch could hear it.

Honestly, Sonam didn’t want to wash this piece. To her this was a memorable and valuable keepsake of her first conjugal union, of some heavenly moments of sheer joy, with her amazingly virile father-in-law. How wildly and lovingly he had flooded her vagina with his thick cum, and it was this sticky goo that had been rubbed into this fabric! She would never want to wash those first traces of his fertile cum. It was something Sonam wanted to preserve, and savor the moments when she would be alone.

“No, No, don’t bother Matasari … you just keep it on my bed,” she said softly. To her it seemed that everyone in the room would catch on to the purpose of her not wanting it to be washed. This time too, her sasur heard what she said. He smiled, but none of the women in the room saw it.

“Chhor do Matasari. Sayed Bahu ko woh kachi dhulai karna pasand nahin (Leave it Matasari. May be Bahurani doesn’t want that particular undergarment to be washed).”

This time the patriarch laughed aloud. Sonam was red in the face and dashed out of the room, taking the sari and her used undergarment with her. Matasari turned and looked at the patriarch, her face too in a mischievous grin as she understood what the master of the house was hinting at.

“Master, Bahurani is so ashamed and coyish,” Matasari laughingly said, “Let me go to her.”

“Listen Matasari. I want that you two become very good friends …if not in front of everyone, at least in privacy,” the head of the family said. Matasari nodded her head to indicate she would obey and dashed off after Sonam.

In the meantime, after rushing off to her room, Sonam came and sat down on her bed, her face flushed. She didn’t even put the unwashed undergarments inside her almirah, such was her shame in having been caught by both the master and the maid. Why did she have to say it so nakedly, Sonam thought to herself. Just then, Matasari entered her room smiling.

“What’s the matter Bahurani? Why are you feeling so shy? Haven’t you heard what the master has said? I have understood everything he has said. And from today my duty is to look after you. Even then you are feeling shy?” Matasari told Sonam.

Matasari had come nearer and, taking liberty of the patriarch’s advice, she held up Sonam’s chin with her fingers. Somehow, the distance between a maid and her ‘malkin’ (mistress) seemed to have been pushed away and neither of them hesitated or felt bad. Although she was a respectable ‘bahu’ she was still a young girl whereas Matasari was more than ten years elder to her.

Sonam felt a growing warmth towards the maid and the fact that she now knew about her relationship with her sasur made her warm up to her more. You always require a chaperon in such relationships.

“Has Babuji told you everything, Matasari?” Sonam asked hesitatingly. It would be far more embarrassing if the maid had come to know, in details, exactly what happened the night before.

Matasari bluffed a bit so that Sonam would open out more. She wanted to know everything from the young bahu, and with tactful and leading questions, she was certain that the immature girl would ultimately confide in her.

“Haan, yehi ki raat bhar aap dono bistar mein (Yes, that the entire night you two … on the bed) …” she started giggling.

Sonam blushed instantly and covered her eyes with both hands, “Oh god! Shame! Shame on me! … Oh why! Why did he have to tell everything?”

Matasari, who was standing near, held Sonam’s hands with hers and pulled them away from her face.

“No, don’t feel ashamed Bahurani. Tell me everything. Maybe I can help you more, who knows?” Matasari ran a hand along the young girl’s back. She had, by now, come and sat beside Sonam and had her arm around her comfortingly.

“No, I can’t tell you. Matasari why are you embarrassing me more?” Sonam blurted.

“Okay, don’t tell. But, come one, at least when I put questions then tell me. Or else, how will I help?” Matasari pursued.

Sonam nodded her head. She had no other way to wriggle out of this situation.

“Achha ye batao Bahurani, kya malik tum se behat pyar hai ya nahin? Tumhe us me kuch shak hai ya nahin (Very well, just tell me – Babuji loves you very much, doesn’t he? You don’t doubt that, do you)?” Matasari asked.

“Babuji loves me too much. I don’t have any doubts on that,” Sonam said from the core of her heart.

“And you Bahurani? Your love, your desire for him?” Matasari was drawing the girl into a web of surrendering questions.

“I too love him a lot. I can’t live without him now!” The girl was speaking out the truth from the depths of her heart. Her entire thoughts, her entire mind and her entire body ached for this man who was her father-in-law.

“Achha ye batao bahurani …aab to malik, jo hai apka babuji, apna mard bana. Sach mein ek baat kahogi? (Then tell me something. The master, who is your father-in-law, has now become your ‘man’ and lover. Will you answer one thing truthfully)?” The maid asked.

“Haan ..koshish karungi (yes, I will try)” Sonam whispered.

“Koshish nahin. Batana paregi (Not just trying … you have to tell),” Matasari was adamant.

Sonam helplessly nodded her head.

Matasari giggled. They were like ‘sahelis’ (friends) now and one had to be open and not secretive.

“Phir batao Bahurani … unka ‘woh’ kaise laga? Jis se ek mard ka pehchan hota hai, (Then tell me one thing … Ummm … how did you like his ‘thing’ …the one by which you recognize a real man)?” The maid made no distinction between her and the bahurani, no distinction in their standing and relationship. She was not being just the maid, but a very close and bosom friend of Sonam.

“Jao ..tum bhi Matasari, kaisi batein karti ho (Oh Matasari! What questions you ask)?” Sonam smiled shyly.

“Bahurani. I will tell about an incident. I was dusting the rooms one day while Babuji was standing in the verandah talking with someone. That day, he was not wearing anything underneath his dhoti, possibly having taken off his langot (underwear) before he was scheduled to go for his bath. I could see the underlines of his body underneath the thin material of the dhoti. What to tell Bahurani! He is a real ‘mard’. It was so big, so big, something I never knew was possible in a man. I cannot imagine what size it would have been when he would be making love!” Matasari was giggling like a young girl. Even Sonam couldn’t help but started giggling too.

“Yes, you cannot imagine how big it is when it awakens, Matasari,” Sonam replied, casting aside her shyness.

“Toh aaj raat dikhao … darwaja khul ke rakhna … Babuji ko maat batana ..thik hai (Then show it to me tonight… Keep the door between the rooms open … Don’t tell Babuji)?” Matasari immediately seized the opportunity to make a request.

“Oh! Matasari … what sort of things you tell!” a mock scolding from Sonam.

“Bahurani …” Matasari was almost begging for an invitation to the visual delights of rare erotic copulation between an elderly ‘mard’ and a sexy, young bahu. Possibly, she could also be wanting to have a view of the naked organ that she could only imagine after that dhoti covered view earlier. Begging, cajoling, pulling the young bahu’s arm Matasari tried everything but Sonam remained unmoved. She was too shy and felt too ashamed to even think of it.

Till, at last, Matasari threw the last dice.

“Bahurani ..ek baat batayun? (Can I tell you something)?” she asked.

Sonam nodded her head in approval.

“Babuji ke liye aap ka itna pyar hai dil mein. Aap ne kuch der pehle ye bhi kaha ki aap unka bina raha nahi sakogi. (You have so much love for Babuji. Sometime back, you said you cannot live without him. Didn’t you?” Matasari asked tactfully.

“Haan (Yes),” Sonam replied, without realizing that she was being led into a trap.

Saach batao ..kya aap unko pati ke roop mein chaheto ho nahin (Tell truthfully, don’t you want to see him as your husband)?” Matasari was asking.

“Haan,” Sonam nodded her head without fully knowing where this was leading.

“Agar sambhav hota, kya aap unse shadi bhi nahi karta (if it was possible, wouldn’t you have married him)?” the maid asked.

“Haan Matasari …lekin who kabhi bhi sambhav nahin (yes, but that’s not possible ever),” Sonam replied.

“Then listen. There’s another way a marriage can take place. It’s known as ‘gandharva’ marriage. It’s not the traditional, ceremonial marriage. You needn’t tell anyone. There’s just one condition in such marriages. It is a marriage that comes not out prayers and vows but in copulation or mating. And, that mating must be witnessed by someone – a trusted witness who could be either a male or female.” Matasari was convincing the young, immature Sonam in her own sweet way.

Sonam’s mouth was agape and her eyes almost touched her eyebrows. Was that sort of marriage possible? She wanted to be this man’s wife, wanted to bear his children and this method was almost a way out. Would she ask Babuji? Would he think that as a bad idea and reject it outright? Or should she secretly allow Matasari to witness and be satisfied in her own mind that she was married to her ‘mard`?

“What are you thinking, Bahurani?” Matasari asked, awakening Sonam from her stupor.

“Are you speaking the truth?” Sonam asked again to remove whatever doubts that roamed in her mind. She was eager now … she had already accepted it in her heart and mind. If this was true she would see that it was done … whether Babuji agreed or not.

“Absolute truth, Bahurani,” Matasari said excitedly.

“Good. Then tonight itself there will be this marriage in the way you say is possible. Ohhh Matasari you are so helpful,” Sonam hugged Matasari and then hid her face in her bosom.

Matasari went on stroking her hair.

It was decided between them that they would together approach the patriarch and plead with him. Knowing Babuji, Sonam was certain that he would agree, because he was already treating her like his wife. But they would approach him after dinner, just before they retired for sleep.

Matasari cunningly took the tiny vermillion box from Sonam’s bedroom and went and kept it on the bedside table in the patriarch’s room. This itself should have an effect on Babuji’s mind and he would be mentally prepared in a way to accept what the two ladies told him.

The day passed off quietly. Babuji and his Bahu crossed path just twice during the day. He was occupied with the labourers in his agricultural lands and people from the market. Sonam was busy in her household chores and attending to her baby.

Sonam dressed ravishingly at night. It was a flaming orange sari with black and gold border. She wore a sheer lowcut sleeveless gold blouse. Underneath she wore the sheer lace peach bra and crotchless panties. Her hair was made into a bun and, thanks to Matasari, she had a white flower garland tied around it. She had a sober make up, but she had given her lips a deep crimson shade to make them more alluring. When she came to the dining table for dinner, she was looking stunning and everyone, not excluding her uncle-in-law Anuruddh, gaped at her open-mouthed. It was not known to Sonam that even Anuruddh lusted for her at that moment.

Anjali felt a bit jealous of this rare beauty, and the way her husband Anuruddh gaped at her, didn’t escape her eyes.

“You seem to have dressed to go out even after dinner Sonam,” Anjali said sounding critical of her attire.

But the patriarch came to her rescue immediately. He burst out laughing at first before turning towards his sister-in-law.

“Anjali, don’t forget her age. She is hardly 23 and if she doesn’t dress at this age when will she? When she reaches your age?” the patriarch said. The voice was neither joking nor harsh – it was midway between both, but it was enough to make Anjali realize that she should stop saying anything about Sonam’s dress and makeup.

After this little exchange of words dinner was over very quietly without too much conversation. But the food was good and one of the dishes, palang paneer, prepared by Sonam was richly praised by the brothers.

When everyone had left, the patriarch got up from his chair beckoning Matasari who stood at a distance. Sonam had left for her room carrying the baby in her arms.

“Have you had a talk with Bahurani?” he asked very softly.

“Haan malik. Woh bhi aap se kuch baat bolne ke liye taras rahi hai (yes, and she also is very eager to talk with you on something important),” said Matasari, whispering the words ‘taras rahi hai’ in a manner that made the patriarch instantly aroused.

“That’s okay. You two go and wait for me in my room,” the patriarch said, wondering what his bahu wanted to say.


When everyone had left Balwant was lost in thoughts of the concluded dinner a while back and to someone special – his beautiful bahu. How wonderful she looked at the dinner table. He saw a glow in her face. Her eyes were shining and sparkled and conveyed a lot while many things remained unsaid. And then he mulled over his conversation with Matasari, who was turning to be his confidante. He wondered what his bahu wanted to tell him so eagerly.

In a while, he got up and went to his bedroom. He felt an excitement, waiting impatiently in his lounging chair inside his bedroom.

It was about half an hour later that the patriarch heard a knock on the inter-connecting door. He quickly got up and in two strides was at the partition door and opening it ajar.

There, right in front of him, stood his most alluring, stunning and gorgeous bahu dressed in her full red wedding attire and all her ornaments that she wore on the day of her marriage to his son Rajesh. What was unseen to the patriarch was the most exotic pair of peach lingerie that she was still wearing even when she had gone to have dinner. A few steps behind his bahu stood Matasari, like an obedient maid, willing to follow all commands of this erotic couple.

“My god! My god! Such captivating beauty!” the patriarch said, walking back a few steps to let his bahu in to his bedroom. Walking backwards, as he gaped at her, he fell back on his bed. He now watched the sex goddess who stood right in front of her.

“Bahu…” he continued, as he gathered his wits together, “you are looking as enchanting as ever. Come…come in. ”

He beckoned her to come in. Sonam stood at the doorway, her head bowed with the saree pallu covering her head like that of a bride. She stayed put for some moments, gathering courage and her resolve, and then moved slowly into Balwant’s room. Matasari stood behind his bahu, as a servant in attendance.

“You wanted to tell me something, Bahu?” He whispered, betraying some of his inner turmoil.

She remained standing there. Unable to utter the words she had come so prepared to tell.

“Bahu…tell me.”

She remained silent, too hesitant to say what she had come to tell. It was left to Matasari to come up and hold Sonam’s left arm, urging her to speak.

“Bahurani, now is not the time to keep silent,” She whispered.

Sonam raised her head and met Balwant’s gaze. She averted it for a moment and then looked straight into his eyes.


“Yes, tell me… Bahu” He urged.

“Babuji …Matasari suggested something .. I don’t know if you will agree.”

“About? Tell me Bahu, tell me freely.” His curiosity had increased.

“I feel ashamed to tell you…Babuji” She couldn’t look at the patriarch any more.

“Tell me Bahu. You have always shared with me what you have in your mind.”

“You may not approve, Babuji” She whispered and looked at Matasari for confidence and making her a sort of co-conspirator.

Balwant looked curiously and with intrigue at the two women. He was certainly aware of some special circumstance that had led his bahu to wear her wedding dress and ornaments again.

“Go on, bahu.”

“I was thinking of …you know … what every girl thinks of.”

“Yes…and?” He waited. Impatience slowly visible in his face.

“I know I am married to your son but…,” Sonam was hesitating too much.

He nodded. His mind trying to decipher where she was leading. The mention of his son for a moment made him think that his bahu was probably feeling guilty of what had happened and decided to call it quits. He thought hard, trying to reconcile his thoughts, wondering why she would come to him wearing her wedding dress if she had any regret.

“But the last one night has put me in great turmoil,” Sonam continued to say.

Balwant feared the worst – an end to their relationship. Probably, she was indeed repentant of what had happened last night. Yet he was unable to figure out why she was dressed the way she was.

He stood up, slowly walked up to her “You should not worry about it Bahu,” wrapping her in his arms even closer, “You are mine – even if our relationship does not carry the stamp of marriage.”

“That is why I have come. Do you realise what I am wanting?” Her question whispered to him.

“Tell me Bahu…you can have my life… if you want” His heart thumping hard. Did she want to sever the ties that was growing between them? What was she wanting?

She remained quiet in his arms. Neither moved but remained where they were. Only silence filled up the room. He gently urged her to talk. Finally, Sonam could hold back no longer.

“I know social marriage is not possible but … I dream of being wedded to you,” she whispered. Her breathing came in shorts bursts.

And the revelation came as a big jolt to Balwant. Even in his wildest dreams he had not thought that such possibility ever existed. He waited, for he knew there was more to come from his bahu.

“And Matasari told me a way,” Sonam said.

“ bahu..” He whispered in the most endearing way. He loved her dearly, and always she rose higher in his esteem. He was proud of his bahu who cared so much for him.

He held her close and looked into her eyes… trying to fathom what she meant.

“What did Matasari say?” Balwant asked.

“Ohh Babujiii … I thought you would know…,” Sonam blurted.

He kissed her forehead. Loving every moment of their proximity. He did not care about the presence of Matasari who stood there watching. He wondered what was going through the woman’s mind.

“You are mine…for sure you are mine… and to think that you can be my wife… ” His voice was full of emotions.

“Do you know the marriage Matasari was telling about?” She continued.

He shook his head, looked at Matasari and yet nothing came to his mind.

“Tell me bahu,” he asked again, as he continued to play with her tresses and flushed cheeks.

“She said something about gandharva vivahah (marriage) … involving…” and she paused covering her eyes.

And then everything was crystal clear to Balwant.

“Oh my god, Bahu! Did Matasari suggest that? Oh god! She is so refreshingly innovative.” And his eyes turned towards Matasari who was smiling in glory but with a bit of shyness. Yet she had the confidence in her face.

He kissed Sonam all over her forehead, cheeks and then her lips, “Why did I not think of this? Yes.. yes…of course.”

Sonam looked into his eyes. “You know what that means Babuji?”

He took her hand and whispered, “Yes Bahu, I do … it is one our ancient traditions. They say that the marriage of a desiring woman with a desiring man, without religious ceremonies, is the best marriage.”

Still not looking at his face, she said huskily “But it would mean Matasari also …” leaving the sentence half said and then added. “You will agree to that?”

“What about Matasari … Bahu?” He was unsure what riddles bahu was throwing up one after the other … and Matasari just had a naughty smile on her face when Balwant gazed at her. The two girls had been conspirators to something, he thought.

“Bahu…tell me… am I missing something?” Balwant said in the end.

Sonam kept her eyes closed, her face buried deep in his chest. She whispered excitedly, “She says she will have to witness the marriage so that it is accepted. Witnessing the marriage by someone else, other than the couple, would make us husband and wife as per this tradition.”

Balwant nodded excitedly. “Yes…we will need a witness..” and then thinking aloud “as per tradition a person should witness the mating.. when I take you just as a man takes a woman in sex, and make you my mate, my beloved wife.”

Her face dug deep in her chest, not wanting to see either Matasari nor him, she blurted shyly, “She wants to be the witness.”

His jaw dropped. He looked at Matasari standing there not having spoken a word and yet part of everything that was happening. A knowing smile stayed put on her face. “Ahhhh… now I understand Bahu.”

Sonam pulled at the cotton vest he was wearing “Babuji …please agree,” she pleaded. The love, the wanton desire and the deep need was evident in Sonam.

He took her in his arms and pulled her in tighter. The need between them was rising rapidly. He took her face between his hands and lustily whispered “Kiss me, bahu,” and then uttered “You are my life.. my darling.. mine..whatever you wish will be done.”

Sonam, unable to contain her lust, opened her lips. Balwant pressed down on them, their lips brushing against each other. A raging fire quickly swept them in, as they kissed passionately now, right in front of Matasari, a maid in their household.

Such was the intensity of their kiss that even Matasari’s face exhibited an arousal in her. Seeing a rugged father-in-law and his desirous bahu locked in an illicit mating was sending waves of excitement in her that would eventually be difficult to control. She was now a party to these happenings, and these were but instigation to her own arousal and desires.

Sonam ventured to ask of her Babuji, “Can I tell her you have agreed?”

“Yes, my sweet bahu… my little one.. yes, yes, you are too precious.. my wonderful one. Go on, tell her that we want her to be the witness.” And he showered more kisses on her.

Sonam turned her head around and looked at Matasari.

“Babuji, do you know, she has arranged for some flowers which she has discreetly kept outside so that it doesn’t attract anyone’s attention,” Sonam said excitedly to her father-in-law, “She’ll soon get them to the room without anyone’s knowledge,and then she will place the flowers and petals around your bed like a nuptial bed.”

Balwant looked at her with a smile and asked, “My bed? Or is it ours?” Sonam felt ashamed for her mistake.

Balwant smiled again, “So, you both seem to have become bosom buddies… such playful scheming. Hmmmm.” He gave a playful pat on Sonam’s butt.

“But you wanted us to be real ‘sahelis’ (friends), Babuji.” Sonam tried to counter Balwant’s teasing.

“I love it bahu… you fill my heart with joy… and love,” he whispered, still holding her close in his arms.

“Our marriage will put the stamp of proper parentage on our child,” she whispered with her face hidden in his chest. And then continued emotionally, “because we will have children… Isn’t it so, Babuji?”

Balwant broke into a broad smile. His heart warmed up with love for the girl in his arms. “Yes … my Bahu… we will certainly have children… and I will get to have more milk over a longer period of time.”

“Just imagine, Babuji! Our child … from your virile fertile sperms.”

“And my most wonderful Bahu.. we will have the best and healthy kids… yes?” He was basking in thoughts of little ones playing on his lap, ones he brought to life by him, bred by his fertile seeds. “Varun will get brothers and sisters to play with.”

“Yesssss Babuji’ Her voice full of desire and love. “I am so excited …I should share this with Matasari.” She had been whispering till now so that Matasari may not hear.

Balwant laughed. He was full of love for his bahu for what they now planned and for her enthusiasm. “Yes, yes, go and tell her… I am sure that nymph will have been aroused by all this happening.”

“Babuji … the babies will be born out of wedlock and would have a common bloodline and ancestors… with Varun. Isnt it a nice feeling?” Sonam asked, meaning his existing child out of Rajesh, her husband and future children out of Balwant, her father-in-law.

“It is a nice feeling, my dearest Bahu, …now that we will be wedded .. they will be our children.”

“Belonging to this family,” she proudly intoned, “Babuji’s family.”

“Let this be a very special moment of ours … you can have this ‘lund” the whole night …Bahu… and let Matasari see as much as she wants. For that would stamp approval our marriage in the Gandharva way.”

“Ohhh Babujiiiii,”she cried in joy as Balwant’s hands roamed all over his bahu, sensually exploring each sensitive nerve of his sexual bahu.

“The insemination will be completed only in the early morning ..when the birds start to sing..when the sun rises to herald a new day … and a new life.” Sonam said in complete ecstasy.

Balwant’s thoughts centred on his bahu. Her love and desire to bear his seeds and that too at the right moment, seemed so right for a healthy child to be born. And, for that to happen, they would have to frolick in bed all night, engaging in sexual intercourse, with Matasari witnessing every intimate deed and act. He wondered how aroused the woman would be seeing mating all through the night when she had not been to her village and husband for months. Of course, Balwant was aware of his own capacity and physical ability in retention for a long period.

“My love.. Yes…Yes. So shall it be.” The thought sent a shiver through his body, causing some renewed hardness underneath his dhoti.

“I know Babuji you can retain till then, isn’t it?” she queried. As if that was the only time anything would happen.

“It will not be one time during the night bahu..that is for sure” He smilingly cautioned her. The hardening phallus was getting ready to ravage his bahu many, many times.

“Yesss ..” she cooed. “for it will be our union of love.”

Balwant closed his eyes and held her close “Yes,my dearest, it will be our union of love.”

They were so locked in embrace, not caring that Matasari was right there. Balwant just glanced at her for a moment and saw her face. She blushed instantly, eyes somewhat low and her twitching lips exhibiting arousal.

Sonam in his arms looked so pretty in her wedding finery. Her lips had the coat of red lipstick that was somewhat smeared by their passionate kiss. The hair was well braided and kept

“I will not be able to think of anyone as my husband other than you after the night is over,” Sonam said.

His heart was thumping hard as he heard Sonam say this. They were lovers now, about to become man and wife in a few moments, just as they cherished.

“You will be my wife … my love … mine alone,” his heart was full of love for this wonderful girl, “and I will still call you Bahu, for that lovely word signifies both.”

“And I will apply vermilion on my forehead as a stamp of that marriage” she said with love, “Each morning, after my bath … you will be in my thoughts when I apply it.”

Balwant tightened his grip, and once again planted a passionate kiss on her red lips. This time even biting her lower ones as his own passion started to reach dizzying heights of need.

“Yes, that is the sacred sign of our marriage… after we have cohabited, mated and made each other one,” he concurred.

For the gandharva marriage to be completed, they had to become one in a heavenly way… with he inside her. The lingam had to be inside the yoni, and would have to spurt rich seeds inside her womb. And that heavenly moment would have to be witnessed by someone. For them, on that day, it would be Matasari.

“Babuji, I’ll wear a mangalsutra around my neck – the heavenly sign of our marriage,” Sonam gushed.

He smiled. His love for her bounded, “Yes, my love, you shall have it. It will be the bond of our relationship as husband and wife.”

Now getting a little playful, she ventured, “Maybe the one you gave to sas (mother-in-law) … no one would doubt it then, because there would be nothing unsual for a bahu to be given this one by her father-in-law.”

To Balwant, it was such a wonderful idea. What could be better sign of their wedding “Yes.. I believe I have it secured inside the almirah..yes..yes… that will be right ” He was brimming with joy “Bahu.. you are so wonderful, did you know that?” She always made him happy, the patriarch felt.

“I will put away the one I am wearing now,” placing her fingers on the Mangalsutra that signified her union with Rajesh, “this will be replaced by one that you would make me wear after our marriage.”

Sonam kept thinking about this unique ornament. In the eyes of the world it would be the same yet, in their minds, it would be a symbol of their Gandharva union, of a unique wedlock known to none except Matasari.

“And each night we will always be husband and wife,” her voice had a hidden naughtiness as she ventured into the future.

“Yes, sleeping in our conjugal a way nature made us to be,” Balwant agreed with Sonam, and then went on to say, “fulfilling the duties and obligations of a wedded couple.” He laughed merrily.

He knew that there would be very few clothing separating them. They would be naked as nature made them.

“Always sleeping together on your bed,” she cooed like a happy bride, “what a lovely feeling!”

He held her tight – his bride, his love and his girl.

“ darling.. Yes,” he replied, “you always make me happy..bahu.”

“My duty as your wife … to fetch happiness for you.” She looked up into his eyes and there was abundant love for the man. And there was a naughty look too, that made him restless.

“Just be prepared that I will give you all the experience in bed you can ever imagine…and some that you may not even have imagined ever… Bahu,” Balwant made it very clear to Sonam.

“Yes babujiii … I will accept that to happen.” For she was now truly his and was ready for anything with him. She trusted him fully.

He kissed her passionately again, perhaps for the hundredth time. “And you can whisper to me whatever comes to your mind…” he went on further. “for you will be my ardhagni (wife).”

“You know, Bahu?” He ventured after a while.

“What, Babuji” Her voice betrayed the inner turmoil and the raw lust that was coming from within her.

“I want to see you in your full glory… I want to witness you as you are … the way god made you.” For, Sonam stood in front, in her bridal dress and jewelry and yet, these very items of marriage, would have to be discarded in the process of marriage being adopted by them. “You’ll have to part with your dress, Sonam. That’s very necessary in this marriage.”

It was to be a carnal wedding, the completion of which depended on consummation alone. The mating, when witnessed by another person, was indeed equivalent to the seven ‘pheras’ that traditional Hindu weddings would have.

In a way, the wedding dress that Sonam wore was a prelude. The real wedding dress would be what Mother Nature had gifted to them at birth and then enhanced the beauty of her creation in her own way.

“That will always be … in bed … isnt it?” The innocent bahu, whose irresistible lust and desire were no longer hidden, thought of her imminent marriage.

“Yes, but for that, I want to undress you now… as a bride in waiting … and worship her as my future wife.” Balwant held her in his arms, before he moved back and looked at the goddess of love that stood in front of him.

“But you said about things I cannot imagine … what are those?” Her curiosity had gripped her young mind. She wanted to know, she was keen to explore, and the need to be taken was unabated in the young Sonam.

And then, as an afterthought, she said, “if that is what you want ..yes babuji .. you can.” She was shy. But she was ready to surrender herself completely to this man. It was for him to decide, and for her to follow.

“You will know all the things that we will explore and do… Bahu… but for now, I want to see you. Just you, without any adornment, without any stitch to cover. Just you, in the way I will take you.”

She stood there for a moment. Her face expressing her turmoil, and there was twitching of her lips. An intense lust seemed to be brewing within her.

“Undress me, Babuji.” She stood in front of him. With no reservations, no holds. She was ready to be taken in the way her master and lover wanted her to be.

He was holding her hands and watching her pristine beauty. Unknowingly, they had commenced the wedding rituals for there was no set format. He took her face in his hands, adored his beautiful bahu “I love you Bahu” He said without thinking.

Sonam lowered her face eyes with her head bowed. She nodded briefly, ‘I love you, Babuji. Make me yours.”

He played with her for a few moments and then started to remove each piece of jewelry. One piece at a time. They were so intricately worn and of which Balwant had little knowledge. His ignorance was soon noticed by the maid Matasari, who quickly came to his aid.

Together, both Balwant and Matasari removed her nathani (nose ring), her tikka (head ornament), her earring, her bangles, her anklets. Even the mangalsutra that she was wearing, but Sonam allowed only Balwant to take it off her. This was the only time Sonam had taken the mangalsutra off her neck, so auspicious it was to a Hindu married woman. She placed her fingers on the sutra just for a moment, as if resolving in her mind that the transition was for a brief period only and had a purpose. And then, she let go.

When all the jewelry was removed, he nodded to Matasari, who promptly stepped back. Sonam stood there, not moving anywhere excepting for that occasional bout of shivering that went through her body now and then. Balwant’s heart was thumping aloud, his breathing revealing his arousal.

He took the pallu of the saree off her shoulder and pulled it off. Sonam stood like a goddess, with her full breast jutting out proudly underneath the blouse. Balwant held the end of the saree in his hand, paused while savoring the beauty of the woman who stood before him.

His eyes feasted, he started unwinding the six yards of the finest silk that comprised her saree, from around her. He gently untucked the fabric from her petticoat. Sonam, like any girl would do in this situation, instinctively brought her hands up to her chest to cover her modesty in front of the two persons in the room. One to be her husband, and the second who had quickly become her closest confidant and friend.

The process of making Sonam naked was slow but it was not endless. Parting of each apparel revealed more of her beauty – her lovely skin, her silky body, her appealing curves. All that made a woman beautiful, alluring and sexy.

Balwant’s eyes were glued on his bahu and when, for a moment, he looked towards Matasari, the scene was no different. Matasari’s eyes were also savoring the voluptuous shapes of Sonam. Clad in a saree with her pallu almost drooping of her chest, Sonam was unaware of her state. Her breasts heaved up and down in her incessant lust. Balwant unhooked her blouse and gently took it off her shoulders and then out of her arms and hands. She stood in her blouse and petticoat.

Balwant moved closer to his bahu. His hands at first roamed over naked her arms as he grasped them in ownership. He watched, with awe, the slow rising and falling of her milk filled breasts. The nub of the light brown nipple was clearly visible through the translucent lace bra. Her bare arms felt so soft to his touch. Balwant wanted more of her. She was irresistible.

His hands moved away from her arms to the side of her bare body. The smooth silken soft body increased his arousal. He placed his hands on the bra, running his hands admiringly over its intricate laces. He couldn’t be happier than this. His gaze went down as also did his hands, running along the naked arms, and the sides of her body, over her belly button as he worked his way down.

Sonam let out a moan of pleasure. Her eyes closed, and her face arched upwards in an expression that showed her need to be kissed. Balwant leaned forward and kissed her on her neck and just below her earlobes.

She moaned again “Babuji..”

Balwant’s bare hands explored more. His hand grabbed her tight butt over the petticoat, filling them in his large palm and giving them a tight squeeze. The pair of her butt curves felt nice and Balwant persisted with more. He snorted in lust as he felt her panties.

And then, in one moment, he moved swiftly and found the strings that lay to one side of her petticoat. His fingers remained there for a moment exploring the way the knot was made, found the right strand and pulled hard. The knot opened without a hitch as Balwant drew out the petticoat from her waist. All it needed was a little nudge of his fingers before it fell swiftly to her feet and lay in a heap on the ground.

She let out a moan, coupled with an unsuccessful attempt to retain the garment “Babuji..” she moaned. Her hesitancy was because of Matasari.

Standing now in just a lace bra and panties that barely covered anything, Sonam looked extremely desirable. The see-through lace of her panties allowed her pubic hair to be on full display, and her nipples were now hard against the distended fabric. And her waist was flat, despite the child birth.

Balwant took a few steps backwards to get a full view. He moved even further back for a still fuller view and stumbled against the bed. He fell on his bed, but he stayed put at that position. His dhoti in relative disarray, the desi top he wore had its top buttons open.

“My queen!” He whispered lustfully.

“Your would be wife, Babuji” Her voice aroused as she waited for the patriarch to complete making her naked.


“Yes.. Babuji?” Sonam asked.

“I want you to take off those by yourself now. Be naked, be my bride.”

Sonam remained shaking were she stood but made no effort to part with the remaining pieces of her cover.

Sonam was panting, her breath rapid, as she stood in front of her ‘sasur’ who would soon be her ‘pati’, her loving, passionate and virile husband. She was in ecstasy, bathed in a joy that she never felt before in her life.

Balwant looked and gaped at her in awe when she stood in the exotic pair of lingerie, interwoven in lace and net on the finest and softest material that made the pair. He ran his hands over her shoulders again, kissed her on the milky whiteness, nibbled at her earlobes.

As he sat on the bed, Balwant’s powerful big hands had run down her naked arms till they went behind her at the waist and gripped her panty covered soft butt curves. He was in an extreme stage of arousal as he felt the soft ass. He murmured again the words that he had uttered a while back. Words that would ensure the next stage of their union.

“Bahu, I wanted you to take off those by yourself now. Be naked, be my bride.” His voice shook in lust and desire.

All this while Matasari stood behind, just a few paces away from the erotic love birds, the couple who would soon be united in marriage.

As Sonam hesitated Matasari came forward and whispered in her ears, “You must take off your clothes, all of them, and be fully naked. The next stage has come. You know what I told you earlier? What is required of you two before the marriage and consummation?”

Sonam nodded her head knowingly but didn’t know how to tell this to her Babuji. Matasari had clearly explained something about the purity required in the ‘lingam’ for this type of marriage. And, through the maid, she now knew that the ‘lingam’ had to be bathed by Sonam to purify it from earlier sexual activities.

What Matasari had told her was that Babuji’s lingam had been used extensively on his wife, when she was alive. Besides, it was not known if such a magnificent organ had penetrated other ‘yonis’ also. Quite likely it did, any woman who saw this edifice would desire it. So, before it now entered this young bahu’s sweet yoni to sanctify this marriage, it had to be properly bathed.

“Babuji,” she whispered, “I have to say something.”

“Go on, I am listening bahu,” he said.

Yet Sonam didn’t have the courage to speak out. She fumbled and hesitated, looking away from the man.

“Come on bahu, don’t keep me waiting,” the patriarch said soothingly.

Sonam kept quiet till she informed, “Matasari was saying …” But she couldn’t say again.

This process of hesitation and insistence went on for a while before Babuji lost his patience and said, “I will hear it from you, not from Matasari. Tell me Bahu, don’t keep me waiting,” he said but now there was a sternness in his voice.

Sonam then explained that she had to bathe the ‘lingam’ because that was a specific ritual in gandharva marriage. Matasari quietly explained the need for the bath, namely to purify the man’s organ because of the impurities formed out of sexual activities in the earlier wedlock.

The patriarch asked if it wasn’t necessary to bathe the ‘yoni’ (vagina) too. It seemed that he was very keen on this, although Sonam was hesitant and felt it was not strictly a part of the ritual.

“Babuji, we always give bath with water to the ‘lingam’ when we offer prayers to the lord. But … But…the other bath …” Sonam was embarrassed and hesitant before she continued, “there is no practice of ..of ..ummm…bathing the ..the … woman’s … ” she couldn’t complete but just pointed towards her crotch.

“But I so much want to,” Babuji was disappointed at this refusal.

It was then that Matasari intervened, much to the patriarch’s appreciation and liking.

“Bahurani, remember that your yoni too has been invaded and taken by your husband. The purity has been lost and, therefore, must be purified before you can enter the altar of marriage again. Your yoni too must be bathed so that the reproductive organs of both the man and the woman, who are on the threshold of union, are made pure,” Matasari said assertively.

The patriarch was extremely happy at what Matasari said to convince Sonam about the bath. He was really eager to bathe her would-be wife. He took a liking to Matasari instantly and turned towards her.

“Matasari, you have said it correctly. I think you should become the purohit (priest) at our wedding so that you can tell us what we should follow and what we should not,” Balwant said firmly. It was obvious that his decision was final.

“Yes, Master,” Matasari said.

So Matasari became the priestess for the wedding by choice of the master of the house. No one could have given her greater authority to hold the post than the head of the family and, in this case, the groom as well.

“Malik (Master), since you wish that I become the priestess for this most sombre ritual, I will not decline but accept it as a responsibility that I will cherish. But, Malik, there are certain rituals and customs in this type of marriage which I know because I have been taught about it in my village by the village priest in confidence. Are you two willing to listen to an inferior maid?”

Both groom and bride agreed almost instantly and together nodded their heads and said, “yes, yes …we want you to. You will not be thought of as a maid but as a priestess with due respect during the entire event. We will listen to you and follow whatever you say.”

“Very well. The first thing is that while I remain the priestess, I shall call both of you by name only … not as malik or bahurani. Do you agree?” Matasari asked.

“Yes, surely,” said the patriarch and Sonam too nodded her head.

“And everything that I say and want you to follow must be obeyed without question,” Matasari stated again.

“No doubt about it. We shall do so. You only have to express,” once again the patriarch said.

“You shall respect me just as you would any priest in a religious ceremony,” she said again.

“Yes Mata,” the couple said together, almost promoting her to a position of respect through a change in name.

“You shall be addressed as Mata till completion of the ceremony and ritual,” Balwant continued.

“To thik hain, aab shaadi ke liye tayari kiya jai (Then everything seems to be okay. We can now proceed with the marriage),” the priestess said.

“Sonam, it is necessary for you to be fully naked, without anything on your body, not even ornaments, before the bath. Which means you’ll have to part with your bra and panties too. However, before you can lie on the bed for the actual gandharva marriage, you will wear the ornaments selected by your husband. Balwant, you too will have to shed off all your clothes and be fully naked,” Matadevi said gravely.

The process of making Sonam fully naked was initiated by Matasari herself, who had already put her hands on the bra hooks behind the young bahu. Then she placed her hands on the young girl’s shoulders and slowly pushed off the straps. Even then the bra clung on to Sonam’s shapely breasts till the priestess deftly pulled it off and threw it on the bed. The priestess admired the exposed, proud and luscious breasts of the young, desirable Sonam, softly pressing the nips that sat on them a few times.

“So lovely, and full of milk too. This milk is essential for some part of the rituals later,” Matadevi said. She had by now placed her hands on the two sides of Sonam’s hips and the panties that she was wearing, slowly pushing in her thumb and began lowering it. Sonam shyly wanted to hold it back, holding on to it with her hands, but Matadevi would have nothing of it.

“No, No, Sonam,” she chided Sonam, “don’t you dare stop this. You have to listen to the priestess or your marriage will not be pure and not last long.”

Sonam quickly put a hand on Matadevi’s lips and shaking her head said,” No, No, Mata, don’t say like this. I will listen to every word that you say.”

After that there was no problem and Matadevi lowered the panties down over Sonam’s milky, white thighs and out from under her feet. She stood now just as god had made her – naked, without a stitch of clothing or ornament. Matadevi had taken a delight in taking these off the lustful bride. But then she quickly said something again that made Sonam shake her head.

“No Sonam, this will not do. You are fully covered with hair over the yoni region. That must be shaved fully so that there’s no strand remaining. You go to the bathroom and shave it off and all traces of hair on your body excepting the hair on your head and hair that makes your eyebrows. Can you do it or shall I do it?” Matadevi said.

Sonam turned red once again, almost pleading for help from Babuji with her eyes. But the man just had an excited grin at the corner of his mouth. Probably, he was already imagining how sweet her bahu’s bald pussy would look, and more so when it was leaking her juices. Sonam kept quiet and Matadevi quickly knew that the girl would not be doing this unless coerced and helped. She held Sonam’s right hand and said, “Come Sonam, don’t keep the groom waiting.”

Matadevi held the young bride’s hand and led her to the adjoining bedroom that was Sonam’s. Once inside, she locked the door leaving the already aroused bridegroom alone and wondering. Inside Sonam’s bedroom, Matadevi asked, “I know you shave your hands and legs Sonam, because I see your very clean and gleaming skin that appears so polished, so milky white. I know you shave because I have seen your razors and the gel inside the wall cupboard in the toilet. Do you have a fresh one?”

Sonam nodded her head without a word. Matadevi quickly brought what was required and spreading a big towel on the bed told the young, shy, coy girl to lie down on the bed. She was already naked excepting for the mangalsutra that Rajesh had given her.

As soon as Sonam lay on the bed, Matadevi held the Gillette Venus Razor and, with a dexterity that only an expert beauty parlour attendant would possess, completed with ease a very difficult task. When Matadevi had finished, Sonam presented a completely bald pussy.

“There Sonam, you are ready for the pre-marriage shower,” she said, running a hand over the area to feel the ‘baldness’. Small shivers ran down Sonam’s body – no woman had ever had a hand on the area before!

“Go and clean it with plain tap water in your toilet now. The ritual cleansing with Balwant will begin very shortly. I am going to Balwant’s room and you come quickly,” Matadevi said and went away.

Sonam cleansed herself of whatever public hair and gel that still impurified the area and then, slowly, and with the excitement that overcomes a young girl about to get married, walked into the adjoining room that belonged to her sasur. She was stark naked, excepting for the mangalsutra that dangled around her neck. She was a pretty and desirable girl but her present shyness made her look like a real goddess.

Balwant stared at the young woman. He must have felt happy that calling her bahu after the marriage would be more worthwhile. She came and stood shyly behind Matadevi, trying to cover her nakedness and her currently acquired baldness around her pussy from Balwant.

“We are delayed, we have no time to lose. The rituals must begin now. Balwant, it’s time for you to become naked too,” Matadevi said.

Balwant didn’t take much time to shed off his dhoti, langot and vest. Sonam couldn’t help but glance at the man. His ‘lund’ had already started showing off its prowess, jumping up and down.

She stretched a hand and held Sonam’s right hand and then, walking up to Balwant, she held Balwant’s left hand.

“You two make such a nice pair and the age difference between you two make it even better. But, let us go to the toilet and begin with the ritual,” Matadevi said.

Inside the bathroom she asked, “Sonam and Balwant, before we begin, I want to ask one final time – do you both want to get married?”

Almost together both Balwant and Sonam said, “Yes, we want to.”

But Sonam expressed her feelings more and continued saying, “I have already accepted Babuji as my husband. I cannot express the feelings that I have for him deep inside me.” She raised her eyes and looked at the man before looking back at Matadevi.

“Very well. Balwant you shall sit on the Toilet seat, Sonam shall sit on your lap facing you. Her arms shall be on your shoulders and your hands will hold your wife’s lovely, milk filled breasts. When you two are fully ready, you’ll press her breasts and both of you will kiss as passionately as an eager couple would do. You’ll declare your love for one another and that you long to marry one another. After that, the bath ritual will begin with Sonam bathing Balwant’s lund and thereafter, Balwant bathing Sonam’s yoni. Then and then only, you two will be purified enough for the marriage that will follow,” Matadevi said in one breath. She truly directed the ceremony like a well experienced priestess.

Balwant was already excited as was clear from his large, thick, hard, black organ that crazily jumped up and down. He held Sonam’s hands and together took the position that Matadevi had spoken of. Balwant rested his back on the seat as his sexy bahu came and sat on his lap with both her legs resting on each side of the man.

Sonam raised her hands and kept them on Balwant’s shoulders. The man, on the other hand, raised his hands to pinch her nipples first before grabbing both the breasts in each of his large hands. Their lips had already come forward to meet, such was their arousal and passion. Their eyes closed in sublime happiness and in anticipation of what was to follow.

“Sonam, begin bathing Balwant’s lund,” Matadevi said in solemn seriousness. Sonam felt a bit shy and uneasy but Matadevi had come nearer and placed a hand on her back as she said, “Come, girl … do not feel shy but begin what you must. And it’s getting late.”

It was then that Sonam began what was expected of her. Her bladder was too full already, she had not visited the toilet only for this purpose for a long time and so much had been stored inside. She was desperate for release and the time was now opportune.

“Bathe me Bahu … I want you to,” cried Balwant in a hoarse, suppressed voice that reeked of a deep need.

“Yes Babuji,” said Sonam, wanting to bathe the very lovely ‘lund’ that would soon be her forever. The lund was furiously knocking near her crotch, as if begging for her to begin. She held the organ so that it was steady and straight for what was to follow.

Slowly at first, Sonam began to release what she had held back within the inner walls of her bladder. But then the water flowed like a gushing fountain. It gushed out, it was warm, and it created its own, almost musical, sound as it oozed heavily on to the greedy, hungry, live, length of rock-hard meaty shaft.

The sound of her squirting forcefully on to Balwant’s cock reverberated around the toilet, as if telling all to keep quiet so that the bahu completed an important ritual.

Sonam could feel the excitement in Balwant’s lund that was being bathed, almost uncontrollable in thirst and she held it dearly with her hand to steady the naughty phallus. She continued to bathe it in all sincerity and love.

Balwant was becoming more and more excited, as he went on devouring her in passionate kisses, almost sucking her lips out of her mouth. His rough, coarse hands were wildly and roughly mauling her breasts. In moments, milk trickled out on to his hands from her breasts.

“Not now,” barked Matadevi at Balwant. It was obvious that the priestess wanted to keep Sonam’s milk ready for another purposeful ritual. Balwant stopped mauling her breasts, but quickly gripped her around the back as he kissed her hungrily. Sonam was in throes of desire … she loved the man, she was a passionate woman and, she was in heat.

When Sonam was spent and her bathing of the lund was complete, there was a contentment in the erotic couple. She had purified the lund in a manner that was necessary before the marriage.

Matadevi excitedly told them that the job was only halfdone and that purification of the ‘yoni’ would have to begin immediately. There could be no brake in this intense ritual.

“You needn’t get up or change your position either of you. Balwant it’s your turn to bathe her but it’s Sonam who shall hold your ‘lund’ with both her hands and will direct your flow over her entire yoni.” Matadevi had spoken to give directions.

“Bahu, I am ready. Will I bathe you now?” Balwant asked.

“Yes Babuji.” Sonam said softly.

Balwant once again held the young bahu in his arms and began kissing her very passionately, parting her lips with his tongue and pushing it into her wet mouth. Then, he started to release himself and Sonam too, as she held the organ, instantly directed the hot jet all over her crotch, wetting the vulva lips, the pussy, and even her small rosebud. She was truly being purified by her would be husband. She didn’t feel any remorse or disgust or regret. She could feel how much Babuji was liking this because the’lund’ wanted to tear out of her hands in extreme arousal.

“Oh bahu! Oh bahu … my sweet, sexy bahu!” he went on saying as Sonam felt her own surging needs rising rapidly.

“Yes Babuji! Cleanse me, for you who shall soon become my ‘patidev’ (husband)!” Sonam said in earnest.

When the bath was completed, when both the yoni and lund were fully purified for the rituals that were to follow, Matasari said in a serious voice.

“You two lovers shall now dry yourself with your towels. But remember, while you can wash your hands with soap and water, you are forbidden to wash that region with water. It can only be made dry, that’s all. And after you have finished drying yourself, Balwant will go and wait in your room. Sonam, you shall go to your room and wait till I come,” Matasari was being very authoritative.

Sonam quietly, without another word, slowly walked away to her room. Matasari and Balwant left the toilet and went into the bedroom that belonged to the patriarch.

“Balwant, please take out all the ornaments that you wish your bride to wear for her marriage with you. I’ll go and put them on your wife. … she is pretty, obedient and very, very sexy, let me tell you,” Matasari said, “and both of you would make the most wonderful and erotic couple I can imagine.”

Balwant went over to the steel almirah at the corner of his bedroom 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, he spread them out on the table beside the almirah. Matasari looked at them, imaging how beautiful the bride would look when she wore these traditional items belonging to this rich family. But there would be no saree, no fabric, nothing whatsoever excepting these ornaments covering Sonam’s desirous body.

By : AshmitaMadhukar

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