The bang on the door sent a wave of shock through her, an electric jolt that shattered the tender moment we had just shared. Her eyes widened, filled with a mix of fear and disbelief. "Oh no, he's home," she breathed, her voice trembling as she quickly pushed me away. She hastily adjusted her saree, her hands shaking slightly as she smoothed her hair, trying to regain some semblance of composure.
I stood there, frozen in disbelief. My heart pounded in my chest. At just eighteen, I had ventured into a world of adult emotions, caught in an affair that had felt intoxicating. But now, witnessing her transformation from joyful lover to anxious wife, I couldn't shake the feeling that everything was unraveling.
"Is this really happening?" I whispered, my voice barely audible.
"Just hide!" she urged, her eyes darting to the door. "Please, just go."
Her husband entered the room, a sturdy man in his seventies. Though age had etched deep lines across his face, he had broad shoulders and a strong build, a testament to years of hard work. His hair was silvered but thick, framing a face marked with both wisdom and authority. As he stepped in, his mouth revealed no teeth, yet he wore a warm, playful smile that lit up his features.
"Surprise!" he said, his voice booming with joy. "I thought I'd catch you at home! Can't leave my young bride alone for too long, you know? What would my friends say?"
She forced a smile, but I could see the tension in her shoulders. "You're back early," she replied, her voice a mix of warmth and apprehension.
He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a tight embrace. "I missed you, my love," he said, his voice softening as he leaned back to look at her. "You know how they talk. Can't trust a young woman alone."
She melted into his embrace, but I could see her eyes darting to the window, searching for my presence, her inner turmoil evident.
"I was just... getting some laundry from the rooftop," she stammered, her cheeks flushing as he held her gaze. "It's a bit damp out there."
"Damp?" he chuckled, his tone light despite the irony. "You're all wet, darling. Maybe you should be careful next time." He reached out, brushing a stray hair behind her ear.
Her nervousness was palpable as she tried to smile. "It's nothing, really."
"Come here," he said, leaning in closer. He pressed his shaky lips to hers, the kiss tender yet tinged with the awkwardness of his age. She reciprocated, her heart racing as she attempted to navigate the delicate balance of affection and fear.
As I crouched in the garden, hidden among the flowers, I felt a sickening swirl of emotions. Guilt washed over me as I imagined her heart racing in response to his touch. Would he sense anything was wrong? Would she manage to keep the secret?
"Let's celebrate!" he exclaimed, stepping back with an infectious grin. "I brought something special."
Her eyes widened momentarily, fear flickering beneath her facade. "Thank you, but I was just about to... tidy up," she said, desperately trying to divert his attention.
"Don't worry about that now," he reassured her. "Let's just enjoy this moment."
Hidden among the flowers, I grappled with the reality of our choices. This wasn't just a fleeting affair; it was a complicated tapestry of emotions, desires, and consequences. The weight of longing pressed down on me, mixing with the regret that our beautiful connection had led us to this moment.
As I crouched there, waiting and wondering what would unfold, I realized how deeply intertwined our fates had become. Would we ever find our way back to the blissful connection we had once shared, or was this the abrupt end to a love that had barely begun?
"It's time for my medicine," her husband said, his voice playful yet firm. He turned to her with a twinkle in his eye. "You know how I like it."
She hesitated, her cheeks flushing slightly. "Um, do you really have to do it this way?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
He chuckled, mischief dancing in his gaze. "Come on, it's part of our routine. Just like old times." He leaned closer, and she could feel the warmth radiating from him.
"Alright, just this once," she said, her heart racing as she complied. The tension in the room was palpable, and she glanced nervously toward the window, knowing I was hiding just outside.
"Good girl," he said with a smile, and she felt a mixture of dread and resignation.
As he prepared, she tried to steady her breathing, torn between the reality of her situation and the weight of the secret we shared.
She laid herself on the dining table. I watched her ass land on the table. Her back arched up as she adjusted her hour glass figure to sturdy hard straight wooden table.
Her husband, the old man adjusted the fan so it faces her navel. The saree blew over exposing her wet T shaped navel. She was breathing heavily as her nipples hardened with the cold gush of air and already wet saree blouse.
The old man licked his lips with a slimey old long dark dirty black tongue.
She looked at the window towards me. I hid. She shut her eyes tightly as if it were a bad dream.
The old man dropped a large white pill into her deep dark T shaped navel hole. "Uhh," she moaned as the pill bounced on her navel and slipped in.
The old man pulled her saree pleats down 7 inches below her navel just like how I did earlier. However, she didn't seem to enjoy it as much. As she shut her eyes tightly. He gripped her curvey hips with his shakey hands. She shivered at his touch.
He did the unthinkable. He entered his dark dirty old ugly long tongue into her soft young deep navel. He rotated it monsterously in her navel. She held the table tightly. He began searching for the pill. He salivated all over her navel with his toothless mouth. His dark grey wrinkly lips gave her navel dreadful kisses. "Uhh uh uhh did you get the pill?" She asked.
The old man lifted his head up oogling her curves, "why the hurry my young wife?" He asked with a grin.
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