An Auspicious Union -1

 Disclaimer : This story is purely fictional and it has inspiration from many stories that i have read over period of time.

My name is Harinath, and I’m 24 years old, from Guntur in Andhra Pradesh. Today is a very special day for me—I’ve officially completed my Company Secretary (CS) course, and I couldn’t be happier.

I come from a close-knit and loving family. My father, Satyam, works as an accounting clerk in the transport office. My mother, Uma, is a homemaker who has always been the emotional backbone of our family. I also have a sister, Shivani, who recently got married and moved to Bangalore. She holds degrees in B.Sc and B.Ed, and before her marriage, she worked as a school teacher. Since moving to Bangalore, she has taken on the full-time role of a homemaker.

While Shivani’s wedding was a joyous occasion, it brought with it a heavy financial burden. We spent generously, hoping to make it a memorable event for her—and we also believed that income from our ancestral agricultural land would help us manage the expenses. Unfortunately, things didn’t go as planned.

Due to poor rainfall and unexpected legal disputes over the ancestral land among extended family members, the returns we had counted on never materialized. In the end, our family’s share came to only around ₹3 lakhs—nowhere near enough to cover the wedding expenses. As a result, we are now burdened with a debt of around ₹45 lakhs.

Despite these challenges, I remain hopeful. Completing my CS course feels like a major step forward, and I am determined to work hard and support my family through this difficult phase. My parents have made many sacrifices for me, and now it's my turn to give back.

Despite the setbacks, I try to remain optimistic. Completing my Company Secretary course is a significant milestone, and I’m determined to do whatever it takes to help lift my family out of this difficult situation. My parents have sacrificed so much for me—it’s now my responsibility to stand by them.

As I walked home, my mind was filled with thoughts about how to repay this debt. One option is to start looking for a job now that I’m a certified Company Secretary. The starting salary may only be around ₹20,000 to ₹30,000 per month, but it’s a start. The other option—though not something I’m entirely comfortable with—is to consider marriage. If dowry comes into the picture, it could help ease our financial burden. While I don’t personally believe in accepting dowry, the reality we are facing makes it hard to turn it down if offered.

As for me—I’m around 5'4" to 5'5" tall, with very fair skin and shoulder-length hair. I'm quite thin, with a delicate frame and features that some might describe as slightly feminine. In fact, when seen from behind, I’ve been mistaken for a woman with short hair. It doesn’t bother me much—I’ve always believed that what truly matters is what we do and how we carry ourselves, especially in tough times like these.

The moment I stepped into the house, I was warmly welcomed by my mother, who greeted me with sweets, her face beaming with pride. Within minutes, my father arrived home—also carrying sweets—and joined in the small celebration. Soon after, I received a congratulatory call from my sister, which made the moment even more special. It truly felt like a day of joy and gratitude.

With all these emotions unfolding, I decided to visit the Durga Devi temple to thank the goddess for her blessings. Standing there, I felt a renewed sense of hope and began thinking positively about the future—especially about preparing my CV and figuring out what to include to attract good interview calls.

Just then, my father called me aside and shared some unexpected but wonderful news: his company had agreed to offer me a position as a Company Secretary, with a starting salary of ₹18,000 per month. Given our current situation, this was a huge opportunity. Without a second thought, I accepted the job.

Now, it has been almost six months since I started working. I feel I’ve learned a lot and am gradually becoming a valuable part of the company. More importantly, I’ve also begun contributing to my family. Every month, I set aside ₹10,000 specifically for loan repayment. It’s a small step, but it feels like a meaningful beginning toward a more stable future.

A few months later, as a token of appreciation for my performance, I received a bonus of ₹50,000 from my company. To make the most of it, I added another ₹50,000 from my savings, making it a total of ₹1,00,000. I decided to use this amount to repay a portion of our loan at the State Bank of India (SBI), where part of our total debt is held. My goal was to reduce at least the monthly interest burden.

As expected, the SBI branch was crowded—it was a Friday afternoon, after all. I took a token and waited for my turn. Though I could have simply deposited a cheque, I preferred to pay in person. I also wanted to inquire if there was a way to lower the interest rate or possibly consolidate our other loans by shifting them to this branch. Having everything in one place would make tracking and managing the repayments much easier. ( Below is AI Image)

 

 When my number was finally called, the officer at the counter took my documents and then walked into the branch manager's cabin. From where I stood, I could see the officer answering several questions while standing. Inside the cabin, another person was seated. He looked quite young—perhaps in his mid twenties—and carried himself with a sense of quiet confidence. Judging by his appearance, he seemed to come from an influential or well-connected background.

A few minutes later, the officer returned holding a set of forms. He asked me to fill them out, explaining that they required detailed information about all existing loans taken from banks. However, he clarified that loans from private lenders, especially those based on promissory notes, would not be considered.

Luckily, a good portion of our total loan—nearly ₹22 lakhs, which accounts for about 50%—was covered under bank loans, making us eligible for the scheme. He also mentioned that if we consolidated all our bank loans into a single account, the interest rate could be reduced by 1%, which would significantly ease our repayment burden.

I collected all the papers and started walking home, a smile spreading across my face. For the first time, I felt like I was truly contributing to my family—I had just paid off ₹1 lakh of our loan. It felt like a small but meaningful step toward lifting the financial burden, and I was already thinking ahead, planning how to repay the rest of our family’s debts as soon as possible.

Time flew by, and before I knew it, I had completed one and half year at my job. That’s when the thought started creeping in—maybe it was time to look for a new opportunity. I wanted to join an MNC, to grow in my career and secure a better future for myself and my family.

I discussed the idea with my parents, and they were supportive, especially since my sister Shivani was already living in Bangalore. When I told her about my plans, she was thrilled and immediately offered to let me stay with her. But I hesitated as I didn’t want to intrude on their space. I told her, “Let’s see how things go once I get the job.”

So I began applying.Within a few weeks, I received a call from a media company in Bangalore for a virtual interview. Thankfully, my experience at my current company helped, and I cleared it smoothly. They then invited me for a face-to-face round at their Bangalore office.

With a mix of excitement and nerves, I travelled to Bangalore. I stayed at my sister’s house, freshened up, and headed to the interview. It was with the company’s CFO, a man in his mid-50s. The interview lasted about 70 to 80 minutes, and I felt it went quite well. We covered everything from work experience to future goals.

Towards the end, he looked at me and asked with a smile, “Why have you kept your hair so long?”

I laughed and replied, “I didn’t really have a reason to cut it—and no reason to grow it either. It just kept growing, and I let it be.”

He burst out laughing, and just like that, we ended the interview on a lighter, more personal note. It felt like a positive sign.

It took nearly 15 days to hear back from the company in Bangalore—but thankfully, the wait was worth it. I was selected for the role, and my salary jumped from ₹18,000 to ₹50,000 per month. It felt like a huge leap forward—not just financially, but in terms of where my career was heading.

Since my sister’s house was quite far from the office, I started looking for a place of my own. I got incredibly lucky. I found a 1BHK apartment just a short distance from work, and as it turned out, the house belonged to the company’s facilities manager. He offered it to me at a very reasonable rent of ₹7,500 per month. Though it was a bit expensive for me at the time, I felt confident I could manage it with my new salary—and more importantly, it gave me independence and peace of mind.

With this new financial stability, I also decided to increase my monthly EMI payments toward the bank loan. My father, meanwhile, focused on clearing the loans he had taken from private lenders. It felt good to share the responsibility and lighten his burden, even if just a little.

But despite all our efforts, the reality was sobering—it might still take us another 15 years to clear all the remaining loans. It was a long road ahead. Still, for the first time in a while, it felt like we were walking it with purpose, one step at a time.

I had truly started enjoying my new job. The work was fulfilling, and I was receiving genuine appreciation—not just from my immediate team, but even from the board members. My documentation during meetings and the way I handled communication with banks were particularly well-received. In fact, my CFO personally praised me during a team meeting, which was both encouraging and motivating.

Amidst this professional high, my parents began searching for marriage alliances. Although I was still not mentally prepared for marriage, I went along with the process out of respect for them. Deep down, I wasn’t in favor of dowry—but at the same time, I found myself passively okay with it if the girl's side voluntarily offered it. It was a confusing space to be in, emotionally and ethically.

As proposals started coming in, rejections became part of the process. Some were turned down by my sister after meeting the families, and a few were rejected by the girls' families as well

There was one meeting that left a lasting impression—though not for the best reasons.

The girl I met seemed polite at first, but within a few minutes, she bluntly said, "You remind me a lot of my girlfriend."

I was taken aback. Confused, I asked what she meant.

She casually replied, "It’s just your overall look—long hair, no mustache, smooth skin... even your nose is delicate, and your wrists are so slim. Honestly, your body structure—especially your hips—reminds me more of a girl than a guy."

I didn’t know how to respond. She didn’t say it with cruelty, but it still hit hard.

It wasn’t the first time someone had pointed out these features—my sharp nose, small wrists, soft facial features, and slightly broader hips. These were things I had lived with all my life.

So, I brushed it off. Her comments didn’t say anything about me—they only reflected her narrow view of what a man should be

 

This back-and-forth over marriage alliances continued for nearly two months. Some conversations were hopeful, others frustrating, and many just emotionally draining. I had started to take it all in stride, without getting too invested.

Then, one fine day, during a casual phone call with my mom, she mentioned that a new proposal had come in—from Bangalore. She said, “They’re very interested… and they’re even willing to offer a significant amount, if you agree.”

That caught my attention. I asked her, “Is there any problem with them?”

She replied that they were from an extremely affluent and well-respected family in Bangalore. Apparently, even my brother-in-law had spoken to them and given a positive impression. Mom went on to say that the middleman who brought the proposal couldn’t stop praising their social status, wealth, and humility.

Then came the surprising part—she told me they had already seen me twice. Once in Guntur, and once again in Bangalore.

I was stunned. Who are these people? I tried to recall if I’d met anyone who might fit the description, but nothing came to mind.

What struck me even more was how long the call went on—almost 30 minutes. It’s rare for my mom to talk that long on the phone, and her tone was unusually soft and thoughtful. She also mentioned that my sister Shivani was very happy about the proposal, which made me feel like this was something the whole family was taking seriously.

I asked, “What about Dad?”

She simply said, “Your father said the decision is yours. He’ll stand by whatever you choose.”

Toward the end of the call, she hesitated for a moment—then added, “The middleman who brought this alliance… he’s somehow connected to one of the private lenders we know. And now they’re insisting that we arrange a meeting with the family.”

I was curious but calm. “So what’s the issue?” I asked.

There was a long pause on the other end.

Then, after much hesitation, my mother said quietly, “They want you to come to their house… not as a son-in-law, but as a daughter-in-law.”

It felt like the silence on the line had a weight of its own. My mind went blank, yet it was racing at the same time—like trying to catch your breath after a sudden fall.

Come to their house as a daughter-in-law?

I didn’t give her an answer right away. I told her I needed time to think.

Later that evening, my phone rang. It was Shivani.

She didn’t waste time.

“Hari… I need to talk to you before Mom tells you everything.”

Her voice carried a seriousness I hadn’t heard in a while.

“I already know,” I said quietly. “About the alliance… and that they want me to come as a daughter-in-law.”

She paused, then said, “Okay, then let me fill in the blanks. I’ve spoken to the boy. His name is Vimal.”

That name meant nothing to me yet. But her tone said it soon would.

“He’s from a Jain family,” she continued. “Quite a wealthy and respected one here in Bangalore. They’re a bit orthodox in their community, but within their immediate family, there’s a lot more understanding than you’d expect.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Orthodox… but they’re okay with their son marrying a man?”

“That’s the surprising part,” she said. “Vimal came out to them a few years ago. It took time, but eventually, they came to terms with it—privately, of course. They’re quietly accepting their son for who he is, within the limits of their social world.”

I didn’t know what to say.

Then she added something that caught me completely off guard.

“And you know what else? Vimal has seen you before. Twice.”

My heart skipped slightly. “What do you mean?”

“Once in Guntur, and once here in Bangalore,” she said.”

I went silent, trying to replay every moment I could remember—when, where, how.

“He saw something in you,” Shivani continued. “Your calmness, your softness, your presence. He said you had this quiet dignity that stayed with him.”

I didn’t know what to do with that. I wasn’t used to being looked at that way—seen that deeply.

“Shivani… this is too much,” I said, my voice low. “Why didn’t anyone ask me if I was even okay with being considered like this? With being seen this way?”

Then she added, “Look, all I’m asking is—just meet him. Not for marriage. Not for commitment. Just one conversation. Hear him out. And decide for yourself, not for Mom, not for Dad, not for anyone else.”

Then she added one last thing, almost like a whisper:

“And Hari… if someone like Vimal, raised in a conservative Jain family, has the courage to choose you, don’t you think you at least deserve to know why?”

That line stayed with me long after the call ended.

The next evening, Shivani and I boarded an overnight bus to Guntur.

She had quietly booked the tickets without saying much, just sending me a message:
"Bus at 7:45 PM. Majestic. Volvo sleeper. Bring a light jacket."

That was it.

We met at the bus stand, exchanged a small smile, and got on board. Our berths were side by side—mine by the window, hers on the aisle. As the bus pulled out of the city and the lights of Bangalore started to fade behind us, I looked outside and let my thoughts drift.

For a journey that was about something so big, so personal, we spoke very little.

Aside from asking whether I had eaten, or whether the AC was too cold, or if I had an extra charger cable, Shivani didn’t bring up Vimal. Not once. And I didn’t ask.

There was a strange kind of comfort in that silence. It wasn’t awkward—it was just… respectful. She knew I needed space. And I knew she was giving it to me without making it obvious.

At one point during the night, I glanced over and saw her asleep, her head resting lightly against the seat wall, arms folded across her chest. For a moment, I felt a deep sense of gratitude. Whatever was waiting for me in Guntur, I wasn’t walking into it alone.

The hum of the bus, the occasional streetlights streaking past the window, the faint sound of someone's ringtone a few rows down—all of it created a kind of stillness that made me turn inward.

I kept thinking: What do I even say to someone who thinks he's in love with me? What if I don't feel anything? What if I do?

But I knew there were no answers yet.

We reached Guntur on Saturday morning, just as the first light was beginning to wash over the streets. The bus rolled into the depot with a gentle lurch, waking Shivani. She rubbed her eyes, looked at me, and smiled.

“Ready?” she asked softly.

I nodded. Not because I was ready. But because I was already here.

 

After we reached home, I took blessings from my parents. Mom smiled and blessed me, but Dad didn’t say anything. I could see he was confused and lost in his thoughts.

After breakfast, Dad asked me to come outside. We got on his bike and rode to a nearby pan shop. He stopped, lit a cigarette, and asked, “Hari, do you smoke?”

“Sometimes,” I replied.

He bought a Classic Mild, and I took an Ice Burst. This was the first time Dad smoked in front of me, and I smoked in front of him.

After a few puffs, Dad spoke in a soft voice, “Hari, I’m sorry for all this trouble. I took loans hoping to get a bigger share of our family property. But my brothers cheated us, and now this burden is on me.”

He added, “No one is forcing you to accept the marriage proposal.”

I asked, “What did they promise?”

Dad said, “If we agree, they will clear all our loans with interest. They will also give us a house in Bangalore for me and your mom to live in.”

I held his hand and said, “Don’t worry, Dad. Let’s meet them and see what they want.”

He nodded. Then I asked, “When will they come?”

“Tomorrow,” he said.

Later, I told Dad, “I will leave for Bangalore on Sunday evening. I haven’t applied for leave.”

Dad looked at me and I felt he understood that I was not ready for this marriage.

 

With that we both reached home and after breakfast I had good sleep. When I got up, it was almost 2.30 PM. By that time, both mom and sister finished their lunch and Dad was in office. And it seems Dad didn’t came back from office. Normally Saturday is half day for him. I totally understood his thoughts. With so much difficulty, I finished my bath as I had lot of fatigue with thoughts across and then I had good lunch made by mom. After lunch, Shivani my sister took me the room and then mom followed me. And then mom holded my chin and told me that for tomorrow my decision will be final and don’t worry about anything. With this, I got little happier. And then Shivani mentioned that her friend will be coming in tomorrow early morning to do some make up for me.

I was surprised as to why make over is required. Then with hesitancy, Shivani mentioned that Vimal and his mom will be coming tomorrow and they want you to be dressed in saree only. But after so much of requests from mom and sister, I accepted for it. With out any choice left in my case, I decided to go with the flow. But I clearly told them I have lot of work to do on Monday in office and hence will be leaving on Sunday evening. Then Shivani mentioned that even Vimal will be leaving towards Bangalore on Sunday evening and I can go along with them. My irritation is going to next level, but I continued to control my anger.

Shivani showed me two sarees one in blue and other in yellow saree. She asked me to choose one. I looked at my mother. Then my mother understood my doubts and she kept both sarees on my shoulder and then at last she selected yellow colour saree.

The Hidden Chapters -28 -- Ending

 A few months passed, and life slowly found its own rhythm.

Madhu safely delivered healthy twins, bringing immeasurable joy to both families. The house that had once echoed with quiet conversations was now filled with tiny cries, laughter, and the excitement of new beginnings.

Soon afterward, an unexpected career opportunity took Madhu and me overseas. After many emotional discussions, we decided to relocate outside India to begin the next chapter of our lives together. Saying goodbye to Manoj and Sindhu was difficult, but we all knew our bond was much deeper than distance.

Before leaving, Sindhu hugged me tightly.

"Take care of yourself," she said with a smile. "And don't forget everything I taught you."

I smiled back.

"I never will."

Manoj simply shook my hand at first, but then pulled me into a warm embrace.

"No matter where you live," he said softly, "this will always be your home."

Years passed.

The four of us remained close through phone calls, video chats, festivals, birthdays, and family vacations. Our children grew up knowing one another like cousins. Every visit back to India felt like returning to family, and every reunion picked up exactly where the last one had ended.

Life moved forward beautifully for all of us.

Some memories became stories we laughed about.

Some became lessons that quietly shaped who we were.

And a few... remained ours alone.

There were chapters of my life that no one outside the four of us would ever truly know. They were never spoken of in public, never explained, and never needed to be. They belonged to a time that transformed me, taught me acceptance, compassion, and the many ways love can change a person.

The world knew me as Bala—a devoted husband, a loving father, and a successful professional.

Only three people knew every page of the journey that had led me there.

And that was enough.

Some stories are meant to be told.

Others are meant to be treasured.

Mine was both.

The End.

The Hidden Chapters -27

 

As we sat together, his leg brushed gently against mine and trying to touch the petticoat frill edges with his toes.

"You'll have to keep taking care of yourself now," he said. "Regular waxing, just like Sindhu and Madhu. No facial hair either and will add your name in the parlour subscription along with Sindhu and Madhu”

I laughed shyly. "So many rules?"He smiled.

He grinned.

"And eat well too. Plenty of fresh fruits, vegetables, nuts, curd, soya, green tea and drink lots of water. Don't skip meals, go for a morning walk or light yoga, sleep well, and take care of your posture. A healthy body always looks graceful."

I nodded, listening carefully.

"And one more," he added with a teasing smile.

"What now?"

"From now on, build a wardrobe that's truly yours—sarees, blouses, petticoats, bras, and panties. Leave your old men's underwear behind. Wear panties."

I looked at him thoughtfully.

"And... Madhu is really okay with all this?"

Without hesitation, he nodded.

"She understands. She knows this is part of your journey and I know you need to be husband for her and wife for me and I know you will enjoy it “

He paused thoughtfully.

"Will also look for good-quality breast forms that match your skin tone, feel natural under your blouses, and help your sarees drape beautifully look and also will ensure that you can store some milk in that so that you can breast feed me”

I smiled, "You've really planned all this already?"

I looked down at the saree I was wearing and gently smoothed the pleats over it.

"There's just one thing," I said. "I'm okay with everything else... but I don't think I can get my eyebrows threaded."

Manoj looked at me curiously.

"Why not?"

"At work, I still have to be seen as a man. If I shape my eyebrows too much, people will notice. I'm not ready for those questions."

He thought for a moment, then nodded.

"That's fair." I could feel his hand gently rested at my waist where I tuck my saree pallu and his other hand lingered over the neatly arranged pleats and touching my penis.

I looked at him and looked down at his tent which is waiting to be freed. I kept my hand on his dick over his short and rubbed it. He started making sound and mentioned “oh! Take it please.” I lowered his short and took it in my hand. First time, I started looking it with affection rather than fear. Its very thick, long and round. I started shaking it up & down, and pressed my lips on his penis. I started sucking it by taking it fully in my mouth and later tasting his balls and his penis is resting on my cheeks. As I am sitting besides him, it made easier for me and for him also to press my head and not letting me to get up. He started kissing my neck and I am getting tingling feeling due to his moustache.

After some time, he made me get up and started undraping my saree.  After undraping saree, I covered my chest with my hands, seeing this as opportunity, he lifted petticoat and pulled down panty.

His eyes lingered on my chest, gently he took my hands in his, and guided me to sit on the bed before helping me lean back against the pillows. His fingers on my blouse and started squeezing and smiling.

As I relaxed, I raised my arms slightly to help him loosen the blouse. He smiled, noticing the faint fragrance of my perfume coming from my arm pit.

"You even chose a floral perfume," he said softly. "It suits you."

I laughed shyly."I wanted to feel special."

He slightly lifted and hugged me so as to unhook bra from behind. He left the bra and blouse on the other side of bed. Manoj started sucking nipples as the breast size, slowly reduced size as the impact of injection fading away. To make it big, Manoj started biting nipples very hard and started feeling pain. I started moaning loudly and its like pleasure pain for me.

“Does this still hurt?" he asked gently.

"A little," I admitted with a small laugh. "But not as much as before."

He nodded and became noticeably more careful.

For the next few moments, we simply remained close, talking softly, laughing between pauses, and rediscovering each other without rushing.

I found myself relaxing completely, no longer overthinking every movement or every emotion.

For the first time, I stopped wondering who I had been just days earlier.

After some time, Manoj hugged me from behind and lifted my petticoat till belly. For a change, this time, with one push, his big round penis is in my hole, probably my hole became used to it and started pushing it deep and deep.

But for a change, this time, Manoj caught my penis & it became slightly erect with his touch. Manoj started moving my penis up and down but at the same time increasing his speed of fucking me very badly. Surprisingly with each push in my hole, my penis becoming excited and I leaked my sperms but for the first time, I have ordered him not to stop but he suddenly stopped and rather moving his dick in and out very slowly. Then suddenly he pushed it my hole with a big push and I moaned loudly with pleasure pain. I have leaked my sperms in his hand and I started getting crazy. I have adjusted my ass further close to dick and I requested him to push it harder. I can feel his thick hot dick further deep inside anal & after couple of pushes, his hot sperms made my hole wet. Hot sensations made me very crazy, and I snatched my penis from his hand and I stroked it myself. Even I released further. Oh! This is the best I had. After some time, his dick became normal and came out of my hole.

 

 

I turned to face him after adjusting the petticoat that got pulled up till belly for a long moment. He smiled, and I rested my head against his chest. Wrapped in each other's arms, we remained there in peaceful silence sleep for about 30-40 mins.

Feeling warm, I decided to freshen up with a quick bath. This time, I didn't feel the need to change my saree as its picked by Manoj. I simply changed into a fresh cotton petticoat that matched the pink cotton saree. Standing before the mirror, I adjusted my bra comfortably and, as I smoothed the blouse over it, I noticed faint love marks on my chest made by Manoj. Then I gathered the saree around my waist and formed five or six even pleats. They fell perfectly in the centre. I tucked them securely into the petticoat, pressed them lightly with my palms, and smiled to myself. I drew the pallu across my shoulder and, instead of fastening it with several safety pins as I had done on the first day, I used just one near the shoulder. The rest I allowed to fall naturally behind me. I gently spread the pallu across my blouse, adjusted its border so it framed me neatly, and gave it a small tuck at waist until it settled gracefully. I straightened my blouse sleeves, settled the bangles evenly on both wrists, checked that my mangalsutra rested neatly at the centre of my chest though my chest size reduced as the impact of injection getting to fade away, and lightly touched the tiny red bindi on my forehead to make sure its in proper place as it got shifted due to intimate actions. I smoothed the pleats once more with the edge of my palm and instinctively rested one hand at my waist as I admired my reflection.

A shy smile spread across my face. Looking toward Manoj, still asleep, I softly blew him a tiny flying kiss before turning back to the mirror.

For the first time, I wasn't trying to look like the lady of the house.

I simply felt like one.

The Hidden Chapters -26

 

He smiled and pulled me into a warm embrace.

The moment I rested against him, his hand slid gently along my back before settling at my ass crack over the soft folds of my saree. I closed my eyes for a second, enjoying the quiet comfort of being in his arms.

"Thank you," I whispered.He smiled.

"But I'm still not ready to forgive you," I added, looking up at him. "You are very far rough with me and please be gentle next time.”

A guilty smile appeared on his face when I said next time.

"I know," he admitted. "but this is how man behaves with wife on bed and though you might be man, but for me you are my wife & lady, you will get adjusted to this soon or you need to get adjusted. You have no choice dear.”

Together we walked to the kitchen, where the cook had already finished serving himself.

"I thought you both might be late," he said politely before leaving. I understood his point and kept quite.

I tucked my pallu neatly at my waist and began arranging lunch on the dining table. Manoj sat quietly, watching me with a smile that made me feel strangely shy.

"Don't just stare," I teased. "At least pour the water."

"Yes, ma'am," he replied with a grin.

We enjoyed a simple lunch together, exchanging smiles more often than words. Afterwards, as I reached for the plates, Manoj stood beside me and took half of them from my hands.

"We'll do it together," he said.As we finished cleaning the table, I looked at him.

"Call Sindhu," I said. "Check how her mother is... and ask if she's had lunch."

He nodded, taking out his phone, while I quietly arranged the last of the utensils, hoping everything at the hospital was alright.

Manoj's called Sindhu and both started conversations.

"Amma is fine now," she said with relief. "She's resting, and I'll try to be home by eight or nine tonight. And don't forget—we should drop Bala home this evening.”

"I know," Manoj replied quietly. The call ended, but he remained seated, staring silently ahead.

Being in female mode for the past two days, I had begun slipping into it so naturally that even my mannerisms had changed without me noticing. I finished the kitchen work, wiped my damp hands on the pallu tucked at my waist, then let it fall neatly over my shoulder before walking toward the living room. As I crossed the space between the kitchen and the sofa, I could feel his eyes on me—not just on my face, but on the neat pleats of my saree and the safety pin holding pleats in place. The glance was brief, yet it carried that familiar warmth that made me feel noticed in the most intimate way.

As I sat beside him, I rested my head lightly on his shoulder and placed my hands on my thighs along with saree pallu. He covered my hand with his, lacing his fingers through mine, and gave me a small, knowing look that made his meaning clear—he wanted a little more time with me, away from everyone else, just the two of us.

I smiled softly and looked up at him."What?" I asked.

He shook his head."I was just thinking... in a few hours, you'll leave."

I leaned gently against his shoulder."You'll see me next weekend."

"I know," he said softly, slipping his hand into mine and playing with his fingers on the saree pleats trying to touch my penis. "But I already know I'll miss seeing you like this."

His eyes briefly wandered over my neatly draped saree, the glass bangles, the little red bindi, and the mangalya chain resting against my chest before meeting my eyes again.I smiled shyly.

"Then make the most of the little time we have left."

His fingers tightened around mine, and with a faint, teasing smile, he tilted his head toward the bedroom.

I gave him a quick, nervous laugh and squeezed his hand.

"Can you please be gentle?" I whispered. "You scare me so much when you get excited."

His expression softened at once, then shifted into an amused smile as he leaned a little closer, clearly pleased and happy by my confession and responded, you must enjoy the push of your man and learn to relax.

I suddenly remembered there was pan in the fridge.

"Wait," I said, getting up with a small smile. "I'll get one for you... and one for me too."

As I walked toward the kitchen, I could feel his eyes on me. The sway of my hips, the soft rustle pleats of my pink saree, the bangles at my wrist—it all made me strangely aware of myself. Halfway there, I glanced back, I caught Manoj looking at me with that unmistakable spark in his eyes, his expression warming with quiet excitement. Thinking my pallu had shifted, I quickly adjusted it more securely over my chest.

I smiled to myself as I reached the fridge and took out two pans, one for him and one for me.

When I returned, I smiled shyly and adjusted the edge of my saree.

"You really do notice everything & you don’t get satisfied ," I murmured. “Only when it comes to you," Manoj replied. Its your selection only and you know what I am wearing, then why you need to stare at me like that, but Manoj responded it adds spicy when you wear it.

I gave him a teasing look. "It's your selection only. You know exactly what I'm wearing, so why do you keep staring at me like that?"

His lips curved into a slow smile. "Because it adds a little spice when you wear it."

I sat beside him on the sofa and held out the pan between my fingers. He leaned in, took it from my hand, and as his lips brushed my fingertips, he gave them the lightest playful bite. I gasped, then laughed, shaking my head at him.

"Shameless," I muttered.Then, with a soft smile, he lowered himself and rested his head on my thighs, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. One of his hands found the mangalya chain resting against my chest, his fingers playing with my chest and mangalya.

I looked down at him and covered his head with pallu.

"You really are impossible. “Only with you," he said.

After a moment, he lifted his head from my lap and stood up, then gently helped me to my feet. I kept one hand tucked beneath my pallu as I straightened my blouse  and adjusted the saree pleats, trying to smooth everything into place without disturbing the drape. Manoj watched me for a second and burst into a soft laugh.

"It's not easy to be a lady," I said with a faint smile.

His hand settled at my ass crack , can feel through the soft layer of my saree,. Together we walked toward the bedroom, my bangles chiming softly with each step.

As soon as we entered the bedroom, I smiled and reached up to my shoulder.

"Wait a second...".I carefully removed the safety pin holding my pallu in place and placed it on the dressing table. Then I bent slightly and unpinned the pleats at my waist before slipping off my glass bangles one by one.

Manoj watched the whole process with an amused expression.

"How many pins have you hidden in that saree?" he asked, laughing. "I feel like I'm watching someone dismantle a machine."

I looked at him over my shoulder and smiled."They're there for protection."

"Protection?" "Yes," I replied, placing another pin beside the others. "Protection from shameless person like you."

He placed a hand dramatically over his heart.

"Me? Shameless?"

I raised an eyebrow."You've been staring at me since I wore this saree."

"I can't help it," he admitted with a grin. "You make it very difficult not to look."

I laughed, shaking my head.

"That's exactly why I need all these safety pins."

He stepped a little closer, stopping just in front of me.

"I don't think the pins are protecting you," he said softly. "They're only making me admire how patiently you draped everything."

He looked at me for a long moment before smiling.

While removing my bangles and safety pins, I glanced at Manoj. He had switched on the AC and taken off his T-shirt.

For a moment, I just looked at him differently. His strong arms, broad shoulders, and calm smile made him look confident .Manoj caught me staring.

"What?" he asked with a grin."Nothing."

"That's not a 'nothing' face."I laughed and sat beside him.

After a moment, I looked at my saree and then at him.

"You know, a few days ago I never imagined myself like this. Now I'm adjusting saree pleats, bangles, and worried about matching saree-petticoat, whether my pallu is sitting properly."

Manoj smiled."And do you regret it?" I shook my head."No."

My fingers touched the mangalya chain resting on my chest, I took it in my hands touched it to my eyes as part of respecting mangalya which is to wish long life and prosperity to husband.

His expression softened. I smiled shyly. Then he slipped an arm around my shoulders and pulled me closer.

I rested my head against his bare chest, smiled and kissed his hairy chest. After kissing his chest, I covered it with my saree pallu.

"You really are a man and you really have a very strong big and round man-hood," I whispered. "

He pulled me little closer. A gentle smile appeared on his face.

"I never thought you really love my ass and waiting to deflower my ass. Now I am happy that I made someone like you happy," I said softly. "But you know what, “now I can never walk normally because of you, now naturally I am swaying my hips, because you are rough, strong and teared my ass totally." He brushed my cheek with his thumb.

I closed my eyes and leaned against him, softly running my fingers through his hair on his thighs as he held me closer. I could feel the warmth of his body, the quiet pull of his arms around me, and the way my touch seems to make him horney and I can see his penis becoming big and forming a tent in his shorts and I really felt like kissing and eating it.