The Fatigue

“Chotte what’s the matter? Why do you look so mad?” Anjali asked as she joined her brother in the living room.

“Nothing Di.” Arnav did not want to talk about all the things running through his head at the moment, especially with his sister.

“Chotte, I can tell something is bothering you. Look at the way you’re shaking your leg, and rubbing your finger over your chin. You always do that when you’re agitated.”

Arnav froze, immediately ceasing the movement of his restless limbs and looked up at the woman who’d practically raised him.

“You’re not still mad at Khushi ji are you? About the contest?! I saw the way you stormed upstairs yesterday. Chotte, please, if you’re going to be mad at Khushi ji, be mad at all of us for encouraging her. She’s at no fault!”

Truth be told, he had been mad earlier. Livid to be more precise. But not because of the reason his sister was thinking. Him and Khushi had passed over that hurdle last night and even ventured into….much greener pastures….regarding her entry into the contest. When today’s round had finished though, he had been ready to rip someone’s face off. Especially of that ass-monkey of a photography who’d had the balls to hit on his wife.…right in front of him! Granted, his Khushi had handled it with true grace and a touch of humor by adopting the shmuck as a sibling instantly, but it hadn’t eased the green fire that had ignited and burned in his gut. When he saw the way Sam and Jay were fawning all over her, it had just added more fuel to that blaze. Still, he’d offered Khushi a ride home, and she’d refused him, afraid that someone would get to know that he was her husband. He’d been a breath away from tossing her little rump into the car, but they’d been surrounded by too many other participants, so he’d avoided making a scene.

“Chotte?”

Arnav had forgotten his sister had been addressing him. How long had she been rambling on without his attention? “Di, please. I don’t want to talk about it.” And with that resolute statement, his sister had left him alone. She was a pacifist, not an instigator, and he knew she wouldn’t push him to talk. He was immensely grateful for that. As he’d had time to reflect on his drive home, his anger had dissolved into something else, resembling anxiety almost. The image he’d ingrained into his memory of his wife in that dress, flashed across his vision. He didn’t have enough words to describe what he’d felt when he saw Khushi come down the stairs wearing that navy blue, floor-length gown. She’d looked like a midnight fantasy come to life, drifting across an abyss, directly towards him. His oxygen intake had ceased. When she’d locked her smoke-rimmed honey irises onto his, seeking his reaction and reassurance, his heart had stopped beating. She had literally blown him away. His Khushi was beyond beautiful, this was no new revelation, but seeing her in this new roop (avatar) had left him in awe. And of course other men would notice the same. He couldn’t expect her to walk around with a paper bag over her head and a potato sack covering her perfect frame. It was a contest all about looks for god’s sake. So with that realization, the ugly green had dissipated into an ambiguous gray, leaving him hungry to see her again. He’d been sitting on the couch upon arriving home, watching the seconds tick by, waiting for her to enter the house, and he’d grown fidgety and restless. No. He did not want to divulge to his sister that he was feverish for his wife. As his leg began to jiggle up and down again, on its own accord, his Khushi walked through the doors.

Khushi nervously fiddled a corner piece of her dupatta between her fingers. “Arnavji seemed so mad when I wouldn’t get in the car with him…. maybe I should’ve just gone….” she was silently thinking to herself when her husband suddenly rose from the couch and purposefully strode towards her. She froze like a deer caught in headlights until she noticed a flash in his eye as he grabbed her by the hand and immediately began ascending the stairs. Her eyebrows shot up to hide behind her bangs, and her other arm flailed before she stumbled to keep up with his long strides. “Arnavji??” She couldn’t formulate a full question while concentrating on keeping up with him.

“Chotte! Be nice to Khushi ji!! No arguing!!!” Anjali warned from somewhere in the kitchen.

Khushi was worried. Why had Di just said that? Before she had any time to wonder about what was happening, she found herself inside their bedroom, being whirled around at lightening speed into the closed doors. She closed her eyes and braced herself for the impact.

Arnav caught Khushi’s head and cradled it in his palm to prevent it from hitting the door. He watched as Khushi slowly opened her scrunched eyes, realizing that he wouldn’t let anything happen to her, and relaxed into his hand. He snaked his other arm around her waist and continued to get lost in his wife’s eyes.

“Ar… Arnavji?” Khushi searched her husband’s face. He was practically vibrating with energy, but still hadn’t uttered a word. That was her last thought before his mouth descended upon hers. His kiss was fast, furious and all-consuming, yet his lips were still velvety soft. Khushi let out a small moan when his tongue invited hers into the warm cavern of his mouth.

Long moments later, when Arnav had finally felt a little satiation, he pulled his mouth away and allowed oxygen to pass between them. He cupped her face between his palms and watched his wife open her sparkling eyes, as they both panted. “I’ve been dying to do that from the moment I saw you coming down those stairs today” he confessed in a rough whisper. His heart warmed as his wife lowered her eyes and blushed. “You took my breath away Khushi. Absolutely stunning.” Arnav found his lips being drawn to hers once again, this time kissing her leisurely, with soft brushes of his mouth over her plump pout. “Khushi, I’m so sorry about today. I don’t like it when other men talk to you, especially when I can’t even do anything about it. I wasn’t prepared to deal with that.”

Khushi reached up and caressed one of her husband’s stubble roughened cheeks. “But Arnavji, I rebuffed them immediately. You know I’m only yours.” Truth was that she had forgiven her husband the moment his mouth had touched hers. She gazed into his hypnotizing, hot chocolate eyes.

Arnav watched as Khushi’s lips parted slightly, unconsciously inviting his mouth closer. He pressed his body into hers and hovered over her lips, letting their breaths mingle for a moment.

Khushi clutched at her husband’s shirt front and closed her eyes as her heart began to race, anticipating his delicious kiss. She could feel his warm breath fanning across her mouth, and her lips began to tingle as he….

“Khushi bitiya!!”

Khushi’s eyes popped open, wide as saucers. Her husband however, had not budged. “Arnavji, choriye (let go)! Nani ji is calling me!”

“We’re not done here yet. Nani can wait a moment. You’re busy kissing your husband right now.” Arnav huskily commanded as he leaned in to seal their mouths together.

Khushi blushed profusely before finding the strength to push her husband’s form away from hers and open the doors to scurry out of the room, a flustered smile splaying her lips.

Night had fallen and Arnav sat on the chaise lounge finishing up some work on his laptop, trying to keep himself occupied. He’d already showered, changed, and organized all his files for his meeting in the morning. He hadn’t seen his wife however, since she’d ran out of the room earlier in the day. He glanced at the laptop clock and noted it was already ten p.m. “Why hasn’t she come to bed yet?” he wondered aloud. The finale of the competition was tomorrow and he knew she needed a good night’s rest. Closing the laptop with a resounding click, he got up and went to search for her. Most of the house was dim with everyone in their respective rooms. But as he walked down the corridor, he noticed light emanating from Nani’s quarters. He slowly opened the door wider. Nani immediately held a finger to her lips to shush him before he could speak. And there lay his wife, sprawled half across the floor, half across his grandmother, with her head resting peacefully in the matriarch’s lap.

Devayani continued to lovingly stroke her granddaughter-in-law’s hair. “She’s had a very long day Chotte. She was telling me all about it and then she just fell asleep.”

Arnav took a step closer to them and spoke in a hushed tone. “I’ll take her Nani.”

“It’s ok Chotte. You can put her in my bed so she doesn’t get jostled.” Devayani struggled to hide her smirk. She watched as her grandson’s eyes flashed fire at her. She had to commend him though, he was doing quite the valiant job of restraining his usually sharp tongue. Before he started clenching his fists or huffing and puffing, she decided to put him out of his misery. She allowed herself a small chuckle at her grandson’s expense. “Chotte, I was just kidding. Take your wife.”

Arnav’s posture relaxed. He often forgot where his own streak of facetiousness actually stemmed from. The corner of his lips quirked up into a grin when he met his grandmother’s eyes. He proceeded to scoop his wife up from the floor. “Goodnight Nani.”

Devayani maternally patted her grandson’s cheek before he rose with his sleeping wife cradled close to his chest. “Goodnight Chotte” she smiled.

Arnav effortlessly carried his slumbering wife back to their bedroom and commenced to close the doors behind him with a subtle kick of his heel. He gently placed her on their bed, leaning her body into his so his free hands could unzip her anarkali. No way could she stay sleeping in all those layers of sequined material. Especially since he knew his wife preferred to sleep in comfortable cotton, or nothing at all, as was his preference. He’d removed all her jewelry, and his wife was none the wiser in her deep sleep. He finally laid her against the mattress and commenced to remove her pajami, but was halted by one of her small hands tightly fisted into the collar of his t-shirt. Arnav couldn’t help but smile. Some things, regardless of how much time passed between them, would thankfully never change. He gently loosened her grip, kissed her knuckles before placing her hand at her side, and moved to shed her bottoms. He left her wearing her bare essential bra and panties, knowing it would be too much hassle to put on one of her night suits. His eyes appreciated her from her long, ink-black hair, creamy skin, endless legs, to her crimson varnished toes. He began to undress and in the middle of peeling his own shirt off, he noticed Khushi’s face scrunch up in annoyance. He watched as she one-handedly reached behind herself and unhooked her bra.

Well, he definitely had not expected that. Was she awake? “Khushi?” he asked tentatively.

“Bras are uncomfortable to sleep in.” Khushi mumbled groggily.

Was his wife talking in her sleep? He came closer to the bed and noticed that her eyes had remained closed the whole time, even as her bra was carelessly tossed to the floor. Arnav gulped. How was he going to keep his hands off her now? He didn’t want to molest his wife in her sleep! And besides, tomorrow was going to be the most exhausting day with the finale of the competition. He’d made a promise not to add to her stress and she was already fatigued. He quietly came around the bed, ignoring what had just happened, and removed his track pants. So what if he couldn’t indulge in her body tonight? He got in behind his wife and spooned her close to himself. He could at least relish the feel of her skin touching his.

“Hmmm. Arnavji, you’re so warm. I really like it when you hold me close.”

Khushi had all but purred at him. “Shhh Khushi. Sleep.” And of course instead of abiding by his request, his wife snuggled even closer, enticingly wiggling her perfectly round derriere into him. A certain part of his anatomy took note of this and stirred to life. He wound his arm around her waist to futilely hold her still. Even in her sleep his Khushi was a rebel. She grabbed his arm and hugged it into the valley between her cleavage. Arnav froze. He was afraid to breathe. He silently prayed that all her innocently erotic movements would stop so he could finally relax. That’s when he felt her nipple pucker up and brush against his forearm. He swallowed, trying to moisten his suddenly dry throat. Unaware of his quickly disintegrating state, Khushi continued to burrow and wiggle into him. He bit back a groan. “Khushi I need you to stop doing that!”

“Doing what? This?” Khushi arched her back and pressed into her husband’s warm, solid body again, luxuriating in the feel amidst her sleep fogged brain. “But Arnavji it feels nice.”

She sounded husky from sleep and….intoxicated. “Khushi, are you drunk?!” He watched her mouth widen into a lazy smile, her eyes never even flickering open.

“No, just tired.” Khushi snuggled her husband’s arm even closer and arched her back once more. “Please?”

He had no idea what his half-conscious wife was going on about, mumbling this and that. “Please what?”

“Please….fill me.”

Her voice had been so faint that he was sure he’d misheard her. That’s when he felt his hand being led to one of the soft weights of her breasts. She cupped his hand around herself and gently squeezed, guiding his touch with her own. Even if his brain didn’t comprehend her fully, his erection had understood loud and clear, perking up to full attention, ready to fulfill her request. He was wide awake now. He felt her nipple traverse the lines of his palm and heard his Khushi let out a lusty hum. Who was he to argue? Besides this was obviously a battle he’d already lost. “Relax for me, sweetheart.”

Her husband had sweetly whispered into her ear, penetrating her haze of fatigue. She felt herself being turned onto her stomach. The cool sheets touched her skin, brushed her nipples, and she let out a sigh of pleasure. She could feel the weight of his form hovering behind her as his lips trailed kisses along her nape. The little hairs there stood up at his attention.

Arnav caressed his fingers down the slope of her spine, over her plump buttocks, absorbing her silken skin before descending further down. His fingers explored more intimately and he sucked in a surprised breath. Khushi was already wet with desire and he hadn’t even touched her yet. A smile appeared on his lips as he pressed his chest into her back and nuzzled her ear, asking her teasingly “Khushi what have you been dreaming about?”

Khushi breathlessly tried to seek more of his touch. “You, Arnavji. I always dream about you.”

His wife had a habit of answering his rhetorical questions, and that too with a penchant for always giving the answer he didn’t know he wanted to hear. His hand continued to traverse around her hip, down her stomach to cup the front of her femininity. He pressed his hand past her seam to stroke across her clitoris. It distended eagerly to kiss his fingertips. As he continued to rub circles around and across that tight bundle of nerves, his other hand busied itself by opening her nether lips from behind, for his entrance.

Khushi felt that delicious first push of her husband’s livelihood into her own. Her palms clenched into the sheets, fisting them tightly at the acute pleasure she felt. Her body began to tingle as she took a deep breath, luxuriating in the feel of her husband finally filling her. Her nipples were continuously abraded by the sheets beneath her with every thrust.

Arnav continued to strum his wife’s most intimately throbbing pulse point as he exited and re-entered her body, over and over. She was melting in his hand, blindly pressing her behind into him, asking for more. He slid two fingers down her feminine valley and back up, using her slickness to sharpen her sensations while continuing to thrust. His wife effectively parted her lips and released a startled moan.

Khushi felt sharp pleasure zing through her blood. She was experiencing everything through a heavy lethargic haze. It felt as if she was suspended in a dreamy cloud. She felt the way her husband’s thickness created an irresistible friction against the front of her inner walls with each push. Khushi helplessly tried to arch back against his muscular weight. She couldn’t do anything but feel him from this vantage point.

Arnav had purposely placed her in this position. Khushi was a firecracker, twenty-four-seven. Whether she was awake, asleep, conscious or not, she always did things with zest, especially activities of the boudoir. But with her pending finale, he didn’t want her more fatigued than she already was. This way she could do nothing but receive. She had no way of pushing up or straining herself like this, which was more than fine by him. He continued to draw out her pleasure with his thrusts, continuously rubbing away at her clit. When he felt her grip tighten and contract around him, he quickened his pace, his thrusts going deeper and heavier, luring her release to fruition.

Khushi was imprisoned by the wave that took over. Her body seized up, her legs going rigid, and her toes curling, as she felt that final push that opened the flood gates inside her. Sparks burst behind her eyelids, for long moments, intensified by the feel of her husband’s release, until he collapsed onto her. She didn’t even feel his full weight, her nerve endings too busy singing with an after buzz that had her floating on cloud nine, something that only her Arnavji could manage to do.

Arnav quickly rolled off his wife. He didn’t want her to suffocate after all. He caught his breath for long moments before he felt his Khushi crawl into his side, resting her head on his chest, as she always did. He cupped her jaw to tilt it up and kissed the top of her head. She finally opened sleep-saturated eyes, looking at him in that dreamy way she often did. He tugged her even closer.

Khushi resettled her head against her husband with a satisfied smile. “Arnavji, thank you.”

He almost laughed. Did his wife just thank him for servicing her? “Thanks for what Khushi?”

Khushi’s face warmed. “For…. fixing my dress sleeve and saving me from embarrassment today” she said, quickly changing directions.

Arnav had been ready for some postcoital banter with his feisty wife, but the reminder of that close call made him uneasy. He did not even want to think about what would have happened had he not been there. He pressed his mouth to her hair. “Shhh. Rest now Khushi, you have a very big day tomorrow.”

“Will I see Mr. Sponsor tomorrow at the competition, or will I see my husband?” she asked as her finger traced tiny circles over his pec muscle.

Arnav caught her teasing hand and brought it to his mouth, placing a kiss on her palm. He lowered it back down and held it against his heart. “I can’t help but always be your husband Khushi. I love you.”

As if her husband’s voice were a soothing balm, she began to relax deeply into the mattress, her brain ready to count sheep. “I love you too” she managed to mumble. She pressed her lips to his chest in a soft kiss. It was the last thing she remembered before she dozed off in the arms of her strength and love.