Coalescence

“Khushi, guess who I ran into at the sabjee market!” Payal kicked off her shoes and curled her legs beneath herself as she got more comfortable in her sister’s quarters. 

“Who?” 

“Khushi, that’s no fun. You have to guess!” When Payal saw her sister’s face relay that she was in no mood for games, she changed her approach. “Ok, ok, I won’t keep you in suspense. It was your first crush from grade school!!” 

Khushi was confused. From what she could recall of grade school, there hadn’t been any cute boys. They’d all been brats that chased her, pulled her pigtails, and made fun of her. Besides, she wasn’t interested in them anyway. They’d all had icky cooties! 

“Yaad nahi tumhe? (You don’t remember?)” Payal asked quirking a mischievous eyebrow. She was finally getting a chance to tease Khushi after all the years of pranking she’d suffered at the hands of her little sister. She watched Khushi shake her head no and decided to spill the beans. “It was Banki Laal ji!” 

Khushi gasped as she tried to suppress her urge to gag. “Jiji! Ew!” 

Payal burst into a fit of laughter at the way Khushi had wrinkled her nose in disgust. 

“Jiji! That is not funny! Is that who you think I deserve?!” Khushi was fuming and quickly turned a cold shoulder to her big sister. 

Payal quickly ceased all her giggles. She’d meant to make her sister laugh, not upset! Khushi never turned her back on her, especially regarding such trivial matters. Payal sensed that something else was irking her sister, but wasn’t sure what exactly. She placed a hand on her shoulder. “Khushi….” Her hand immediately dropped as she evaded her touch. “Khushi, don’t be like that, I was just teasing you! I know no one even comes close to your Arnavji. That is who you deserve.” Khushi gave no response except to let out a despondent sigh and keep her back turned in silence. Before Payal had the chance to pacify her little sister, she saw a tall form wearing black with green stripes enter her peripheral vision. Well, speak of the devil…her Jeht ji had just returned. 

Arnav entered the bedroom just as Payal stood up. He watched for a moment as she fiddled with the edge of her pallu between her fingers while approaching him. Even though they were different as night and day, the sisters had some of the same quirky habits it seemed. 

“Arnavji…vo…” 

He watched his timid sister-in-law glance back at Khushi before meeting his gaze again, with concern. Now she had his full attention. “Payal, what is it?” 

“Arnavji, it’s nothing really. Just that I was trying to make her laugh and it went awry rather quickly. She wasn’t very talkative. I don’t think it’s what I said though…. I’m not sure what’s going on with her….” 

Arnav instantly calmed and let out the breath he didn’t know he’d been holding in. “Payal, tumhe patha hai. Tumari behn waise hi sanki hai. (Payal, you know. Your sister is a little crazy to begin with.) You shouldn’t be so surprised.” He held up a small box and brought it eye level for his sister-in-law to see. “Don’t worry though. I’ve come with replenishments. I suspect these will cheer her up.” 

Payal was relieved to see the box of jalebis. Her Jeht ji knew Khushi so well. She wouldn’t be glum for much longer. Giving him a small smile of approval, she nodded her head and went on her way. 

Arnav entered the room and admired the silhouette of his wife. Even the back of her head exuded beauty to him and he smiled inwardly as he closed the doors behind himself. He strode towards the bed where she was sitting, chomping away on a jalebi from the last batch he’d gotten her. He watched as she continued to chew and ruefully peered into the empty box in her hand. She turned it upside down and shook it vigorously, as if another jalebi would miraculously fall out if she uttered “hocus-pocus”. She was so adorably disgruntled. He wanted to kiss the expression off her face. 

Khushi was so distracted with her current lack of confections that she hadn’t even noticed her Arnavji’s return. Her eyes followed him as he approached her in all his adidas track suit clad, magnificently glistening, glory. Her husband had just come back from his jog and was still deliciously damp. His slick hair had fallen, clinging to his forehead. His moist lips were parted as he drew in air. Her eyes tracked further down to watch his wide chest expand with every inhalation. Lower yet, his torso tightened beneath his white undershirt with a sexy ripple upon every exhale. She craned her neck up as he now stood in front of her and she gulped some much needed oxygen. Hey Devi Maiya, why did her husband look like a sliver of deliciously sweaty sin? As she pondered that thought, he placed the little white box in her lap and dropped a kiss on her crown before turning away and removing his track jacket. She didn’t need to open the box to know what was in it. And good thing she hadn’t looked down, or else she might’ve missed the fact that he’d oh so nonchalantly stripped off his undershirt on the way to the bathroom. She blindly opened the box in her lap as she ogled him from behind. She visually traced that deep, sexy line that ran along his spine, bisecting his chiseled back. As her hand dug into the box, her gaze followed his shoulder blades as they shifted and moved, creating nooks and crannies of lean muscle that she wanted to nuzzle, touch and explore. A thought of running her tongue along those muscular ridges entered her mind just as he shut the door, snapping her back into reality. She felt forlorn all over again and took a voracious bite of the fresh jalebi she’d fished out. It was suddenly tasteless. 

Arnav emerged, feeling thoroughly refreshed. After mopping away at his drenched hair and face, he saw Khushi throw a half-eaten jalebi back into the box and push it away. She then began noshing on her not-so-secret stash of channay. This must’ve been more serious than he thought if she was rebuffing jalebis and gnawing away at her “I’m-really-upset” snack. Tossing the extra towel aside, he approached to stand in front of her. “Khushi, what happened? The jalebis weren’t good? If that halwai gave me stale sweets, I’ll go back to give him a piece of my mind right now and tell him to go f-…” 

“Nahi….they’re fresh. It’s fine Arnavji, thank you for getting them.” Khushi tried to muster up politeness as she eyed the jalebis with disdain. Jalebis and a perfunctory little peck was all she got from her husband?! She was tempted to throw them at his head. That is if he wasn’t such a piece of perfection, personified. She thought he’d looked drool-worthy before, but she’d thought to soon. Her eyes didn’t know what inviting inch of flesh to fixate on as he stood in front of her now, wearing nothing but a towel wrapped low around his hips. She let out an audible, dreamy sigh. 

Arnav had learned when Khushi was masking her unease about something. He pinned her with a look, trying to extract more information out of her. 

Khushi averted his penetrating gaze. She swore he could look into her soul when he stared at her like that. “Arnavji…sach may (really)…I’m ok…” she said rather unconvincingly, her eyes skittering this way and that to avoid looking at him. 

Arnav cupped his wife’s supple cheek, effectively bringing her gaze back to his. “Khushi, you’re eating channay. I know something’s wrong. Tell me. Please.” 

As her Arnavji spoke, her eyes took in every wet muscled inch of him. She watched the few lingering water drops that continued to kiss his skin, feeling envious of them. She took a deep breath, catching his shower-fresh scent. Like a citrus summer breeze drifting through a woodsy mountain. Crisp…clean…mouthwatering. Her eyes tracked up to his ruggedly handsome face, adorned with an uncharacteristically patient expression. 

Arnav was waiting for an answer. “Khushi?” He stroked his thumb along the downiness of her cheek. 

Khushi burst into standing, her arms flailing about. “Arnavji YOU’RE STANDING IN A TOWEL!” she exclaimed in an accusatory tone. 

She’d just yelled at him. Nothing was more potent that an angry and irritated Khushi Singh Raizada. This particular side of his wife always did tickle his fancy in ways no other female ever had. It was an arena in which her passionate ire almost rivaled his. It’s probably why he’d hopelessly fallen for her from the moment she’d fallen into his arms. That fateful day, he’d met his match. “So you’re mad at me….because I’m in a towel?” Arnav couldn’t keep the bewilderment from his tone, although he did try his best to moderate his urge to laugh. He didn’t think she would appreciate that from him right now. As he waited for her response, he reached into her container for a channa, only to have his hand slapped away instantly. Her channay were, of course, off limits. Arnav fought a grin through his confusion at her peculiar mood. 

Now Khushi was tempted to throw the channay at his head. “Yes! I’m mad because you’re in a towel! And…and showing me all your muscles…..and how fit and trim you are…. and how good you look!!” 

Arnav was not sure where his wife was going with this, but all traces of humor had disappeared. “Khushi, what’s the real matter?” 

“Arnavji, how can you walk around in front of me like that when I look and feel like a whale?!?!” Khushi averted her gaze to the floor. She just couldn’t look at his flawlessness right now. 

That had stung him more than if she’d actually reached out and slapped him. “Hey, take it easy there. That’s my wife you’re talking about.” Arnav’s voice became buttery soft. He gently guided her face up to look at him. “And Khushi you are not a whale by any means. You’re pregnant.” His hand moved lower to rub affectionately over her round, growing belly. She’d always been beautiful in his eyes, but knowing that she was carrying his child just made her all the more gorgeous. His Khushi glowed day and night. And everything was swollen, not just her belly. Many a times he’d have to refrain from gawking at her now-extra ample bosom. He often wondered if she’d even fit in his palms anymore. She just looked so sexy and so….ripe. Maybe he was depraved for having those thoughts, but he couldn’t help it. He hadn’t made advances towards her in months, especially after her wretched first trimester where she’d had morning sickness that wasn’t just confined to the mornings. With immense fear that had overtaken his heart, he’d kept a safe physical distance, wanting to ensure his wife’s safety and comfort. He’d been a nervous wreck seeing her in such a weak state. Without question, he’d delegated more of his work to Aakash and cut back his own hours, working strictly from home just to be with his Khushi and answer her every beck and call. Truthfully, he’d also worked from home to keep himself somewhat sane. As long as she was under his care, he felt at peace. And in the interim, he’d witnessed her beautiful, flat midriff metamorphose into an even more beautiful, rotund convexity. But over this time of keeping a close eye on her, he hadn’t wanted her any less. No, not at all. Seeing her pregnant, with his baby, a nishani (memento) of their love, just made him want her even more. 

She was a whale and she knew it. Why else hadn’t her Arnavji touched her in months? She couldn’t even properly snuggle into him during the night anymore. Her belly was in the way of everything! And to top it off, she hadn’t been sleeping well until her husband had gotten her that wondrous pregnancy pillow. What a double edged sword it was! Yes, she slept blissfully now. But true bliss was on the other side of the pillow, and he was completely out of reach. Many nights it lay between them like the Great Wall of China, ensuring there would be no contact possible. “Arnavji, it’s ok. You don’t have to placate me just because I’m pregnant. I know I’m not the greatest sight in the world right now. I’ll just get out of your way so you can finish dressing.” Truth was she’d pounce and attack him if he dropped that towel in front of her. She’d been craving him for so long, hungrily dreaming day and night about all their previous intimate encounters. What luscious memories! They’d have to make do because she wasn’t going to force her Arnavji to make love if he wasn’t even attracted to her. Plus, her belly had its own zip code. She didn’t even know if and how they could fit together to make it possible at this point. 

Arnav grabbed her hand before she could walk away, turning her to face him again. “Khushi, how can you say that? You’re absolutely stunning. Whenever you walk into the room, I can’t help but stare at how beautiful you are.” His gaze searched her face before tucking a loose lock of hair behind her ear. And as he did so, he saw the brims of his wife’s eyes overflow with barely contained tears. “Oh sweetheart, don’t cry.” He hugged her close around the shoulders, resting his cheek atop her head, trying to engulf her. 

Khushi willingly went into her Arnavji’s inviting arms. She rested her head against his chest and tried to get closer still, but her protruding belly stood as a barrier between them. She used to love the way her body would line up with his, chest to chest, pelvis to pelvis. But now when they hugged it was like creating the triangle of chastity. Their lower halves were nowhere near each other. Khushi took a deep inhale of despair. Devi Maiya, why did her husband have to smell so scrumptious? The light fragrance of lemon and mint made her want to lick every inch of him. She curled her fingers into his back and inhaled again, her mouth salivating at the olfactory overload she was experiencing. She nuzzled her nose into his chest before he cupped her face to bring her eyes back up to look at him. 

Arnav looked into his wife’s glittery eyes, the tears clinging there just killing him. He softly kissed her eyelids, her cheeks, her chin, and then on her mouth to sooth her. At the feel of her supple lips, his tongue had involuntarily darted out to lick. And then he had innocently touched the wet tip of her tongue with his own. It was an amuse bouche that whet his appetite. Just one more small taste he thought. He stroked his thumbs across her jaw as he slid his tongue back into her mouth, and slowly, softly, slid around hers. Arnav had meant to keep the kiss light, but it had grown fast and frenzied pretty quickly, his teeth joining in to nip at those perfectly pink, pillowy swells that were his wife’s lips. His ears registered a muffled surprised sound causing him to instantly pull away. He looked down at his Khushi as they both panted for breath in silent astonishment. He was appalled with himself. He’d almost just ravished his pregnant wife! Fresh tears leaked out of her enrapturing doe eyes. “Khushi, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to…. I’m sorry! Please don’t cry, I promise I won’t push you.” He once again hugged her close to himself. 

Oh god, that kiss had felt so wonderful that it brought tears to her eyes. She’d felt some of her Arnavji’s desire, before he realized what he was doing and stopped, probably grossed out. And then her lust fogged brain remembered something. “Push me?” 

“Khushi I’m so, so sorry. It got a little out of control and I just got carried away. I didn’t mean to be so aggressive towards you.” 

Her husband thought he was being aggressive?! And here she was, wanting to throw him down onto the nearest surface and sink onto him. Khushi needed to make sure she’d heard him correctly. “Arnavji….. are you saying you … you want me?” 

His wife’s voice had sounded so small. Was she afraid of him now? He was beginning to feel disgusted with his own behavior, and for lacking such willpower. “Khushi I know you must think I’m a…..” 

Devi Maiya, was she interpreting this right? Butterflies erupted in her stomach. Either that or the baby was doing summersaults. Khushi couldn’t hold it in any longer, she had to tell her husband how she was feeling. “Arnavji! I’ve been so desperate for you. I thought you didn’t want me because of…of all this!” Khushi pointed in the general direction of her belly and extra plumpness. 

“Oh god Khushi, I want you even more because of all that! Are you kidding me?” 

Khushi’s face flushed, her breaths now coming faster as she twiddled her fingers nervously. “But Arnavji, I don’t even know how. Is it…is it even possible?” 

Arnav had just received the green light. Nothing was going to stop him from making love to his wife now. “Khushi, leave that to me.” He’d been so dense. How had he not known she wanted him? And that too, this whole time?! Arnav grabbed his Khushi close, bringing her to come softly crashing into his chest before laying his lips upon hers. He kissed her intensely, like he’d been wanting to for months. He explored all the facets of her mouth that he hadn’t visited in the time that he’d foolishly let pass by. Finally completing his kiss from before, he began a whole new one, seeking a bit of satiation. 

Khushi placed her hands on her husband’s chest with immense relief at the way his mouth plundered hers. When he leaned in to deepen it even more, she pulled her lips away slightly to express herself. “Arnavji….oh god…you don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for you.” 

Arnav felt even worse now for not recognizing what she’d needed from him and for making her wait. With a new resolve, he planted a soft kiss on her mouth and rested his lips there as he spoke in a gruff whisper. “Sweetheart, I’m so sorry. Let me make it up to you…” His voice trailed off as his mouth traversed along her jaw to meet her chin. He continued down and nuzzled her rapidly thumping pulse point. His lips and tongue joined in to lay a suckling smooch there. She smelled like warm cinnamon and sugar. He smiled against her creamy throat. Khushi was the only sweet he ever wanted to indulge in, and thank his lucky stars that he could do so unhindered. He continued to lick and kiss a path along the side of her neck, his lips savoring the milky essence of her skin. 

Khushi’s blood roared, her heart beating rapidly every time she felt her Arnavji’s lips on her. She was pure liquid heat, squirming beneath his mouth. Unable to bear it any longer, she lightly pushed him away, ready to get stern with her husband. She reached for the tie to her salwaar as she spoke. “I can’t handle all this teasing Arnavji. I need you…now…please!” 

He watched in fascination as she brusquely let her salwaar drop to the floor. “Khushi we don’t have to rush…” And then he watched in equal fascination as she tossed her kameez off to the side. There stood his wife, in all her pregnant beauty, striking him mute. 

Khushi placed her palms over her husband’s chest, sliding them up to his strong, broad shoulders. “Arnavji you don’t understand…I’m…I’m burning up. These…these hormones, they’re lighting me up from the inside.” 

Arnav could almost taste his wife’s desperation. He’d already misread her signals for too long, he had to trust her instincts. Cupping the nape of her neck, he pulled her face close and dove in to kiss her. His other hand busied itself by tracing the edges of her panties, searching for a way in. His Khushi hadn’t been lying. Her desire had already dampened the slip of material between her legs. He quickly pushed the scrap aside so his fingers could contact her wetness. Arnav sensually sank his tongue into her mouth as his fingers penetrated her feminine core in one fluid push. Khushi suddenly spasmed, vising around his fingers as her hands reached out to hold onto him tightly. 

Khushi sucked in a sharp breath as the instant orgasm hit her hard, the sharp sensations coursing through her body. She clutched at her husband for support, holding onto his forearms for dear life. 

Arnav was astonished. He’d heard of an increased sex drive in some women during pregnancy, but he hadn’t expected this. She was dripping onto his hand. “Khushi are you ok?” he asked tentatively, holding his fingers as still as possible as they remained buried inside her. 

Khushi shook her head, her hair falling over her shoulders as she did so. “No, I’m not. Arnavji please, again.” 

That one word had never sounded so sensual. Desire shot straight to his groin and he quickly divested their bodies of whatever little clothing, or in his case towels, were still covering them. His Khushi mirrored his zeal, helping in any way she could. He took her hand, leading her over to the bed and gently placed his hands on her shoulders, urging her onto it. He saw the question in her eyes….”How?”. “Khushi, you have to kneel.” He climbed onto the bed and helped her on. Gently turning her around to face the head of the bed, he instructed her “Hold onto the headboard, sweetheart”. Arnav watched as his wife obediently followed his cues, then quickly came up behind her to align his body along hers, kneeling as well. He placed his arms on the outsides of hers, caging her in. His Khushi turned her face to look at him, her warm breath puffing onto his mouth. He lost himself in her honey orbs and slid into her awaiting slickness. 

“Arnavji…” Her husband’s name escaped her lips in a lusty drawl as she placed her palms atop his hands and curled her fingers around his. She closed her eyes and threw her head back as her second climax hit her just as suddenly as the first one had, just moments ago. Only this time she could feel his full length pulsing with unleashed power. 

Too much time had elapsed since he’d been inside his Khushi’s body. Arnav remained motionless as she convulsed through her release, her tight core fluttering enticingly around him, gripping his length, teasing it. Immense male pride surged through him for bringing his wife to the brink of pleasure several times, so quickly. He watched her head sag, and felt her fingers loosen their grip before he languidly began to thrust, mindful of her pregnant state. His lips skimmed across her nape as his hands caressed up her arms and across her chest, cupping her breasts. He heard his Khushi let out a breathy mewl as he gently squeezed, thrilled at the heavy weights and the way they spilled out of his hands. Arnav made a mental note - he’d have to make sure to taste them next time. His fingers rolled her nipples between his fingers and his wife cried out, her desire bathing his length as she rode out yet another release. His Khushi was explosive. It had only taken a few thrusts to take her over the edge for an astounding third time. Arnav began to move again. They danced and undulated together this time, with calmer, unhurried waves. It was a constant sway of electric synergy, slowly climbing to its peak plateau. As their rhythm grew faster and his plunges deeper, Arnav knew he wouldn’t last much longer, it had just been too long. His voice was a coarse baritone as he nipped her earlobe. “Khushi…I can’t hold…I love you.” A deep groan rumbled through his chest as he floated into abyss. 

Khushi felt her Arnavji’s earthshattering release and it fueled her final climax. She unraveled and rippled into a shimmering pool of passion. They both clung to one another, melded by their exertions, having finally reached their ultimate satiations. 

Arnav swept the silky weight of his Khushi’s hair to one side and trailed light kisses along her upper back as he exited her body. He pulled her close and brought her to lie down, arranging her so she could rest comfortably against her maternity pillow, and he could still spoon her close. He snaked his arm over her belly and spoke softly into her ear. “Sweetheart, are you ok?” 

Khushi rested an arm atop her Arnavji’s and intertwined their fingers. She rubbed her cheek against the cool pillow, her eyes drifting shut from lethargy. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt such tranquility. “Hmmmm. Arnavji, I’m more than ok. That was just what I needed.” 

He smiled as her purring voice resonated in his ears. They hadn’t made love that intensively in a while. Arnav had almost forgotten what their fiery chemistry was like. He eyed his wife as she rested against the pillow in front of her, an absent smile splayed across her perfect pout. She’d been tracing lazy patterns on his forearm but was now slowing down, her breath evening out. “You must be exhausted, sleep sweetheart.” 

Khushi expelled a quiet sigh of contentment as she fell into deep sleep. 

Two hours later…. 

“Arnav Singh Raizada! Control yourself!” he silently berated himself. She needed rest! It had only been a short time ago that they’d utterly exhausted themselves. Even he’d fallen into a deep slumber after that…joining. There was no way she’d want anything more now. Taking a look south, he willed his erection to calm down. He gently unwound their arms and moved slowly, trying to extract himself from her delicious warmth and softness. He needed a cold, sobering shower. 

Khushi woke from the most peaceful sleep she’d slept in months at the feel of her husband shifting behind her. She then felt his male essence rub up against her derriere. The flame he’d dissipated so thoroughly only hours ago, reignited into a full inferno. She felt a flood of desire rush through her. Devi Maiya, this can’t be normal! “Then again, when was I ever normal?” she pondered to herself. Before she could press back to give her Arnavji the open invitation, she felt him trying to get up from the bed. She quickly tightened her hold on his arm and turned her head to look at his handsome face. 

“Khushi I’m just gonna take a quick shower. I’ll be right back.” 

“Arnavji….don’t go…..” Khushi’s voice trailed off. Her husband was going to think she was a hormonal maniac. How could she even tell him she wanted him again?? 

“Khushi, sweetheart, I just need to….” 

“Arnavji I need that too. Please.” 

His wife’s molten butterscotch eyes pleaded with him. Arnav knew he had been the one to initiate his Khushi into intimacy. He had guided and taught her, showing her what her body was capable of experiencing. But now, she was the one in control. Only she could tell him what she needed in this state, and he was willingly going to follow her lead, giving her anything she wanted. He came to lie on his side, curling up behind her once again. “Sweetheart, put your leg over the pillow.” Arnav guided her thigh to rest atop the long pillow in front of her body, effectively opening her up for him. He tenderly circled his blunt head around her entrance. His Khushi was still slick from before and he was now being greeted by fresh arousal as well. She let out a whimpering moan. “Khushi, you have to tell me if you’re sore…” 

“Nahi Arnavji. I’m… I’m fine.” She was more than fine as long as he kept up whatever it was that he was doing. Khushi gasped with acute pleasure as he slid into her. 

Arnav caressed his hand over her hip and reached across her body, going further down until his fingers found her hot spot. As he continued to thrust, he strummed and played his digits across her clitoris. 

Khushi knew, now that her urgency had abated, her Arnavji had free reign to tease. He luxuriously continued to pump in and out, deliciously varying his rhythm, keeping her guessing as to what would come next. Slow.…fast…shallow…deep. It was all wonderful. She felt as if she were melting. 

Arnav watched his Khushi bite down onto her plump bottom lip, her eyes drawn shut with her head thrown back against him. First there were sighs, then whimpers, then moans punctuated by a litany of his name rolling off her tongue as she tumbled over the edge. The sound of her velvety voice set him off and he allowed himself to climax. His wife relaxed against him, as he once again held her close, basking in the aftermath of their love making. Even though they’d started the day with a complete misunderstanding due to a lack of communication, one thing was for sure. When their bodies spoke, they understood one another perfectly. 

Rang (Colors)

“Amma, Babuji ke liye harra….Bhuaji ke liye santri….Jiji ke liye neela. Aur Arnavji ke liye….” (“Green for Amma, Babuji…orange for Bhuaji…blue for Jiji. And for Arnavji…”) Khushi smiled widely in her sleep, immersed in her recurring dream. “Arnavji aur humaray liye laal!” (Red for Arnavji and myself!) She bolted upright in bed, clasping her hands together in glee. “Holi hai!!!!!” She finally opened her eyes and looked around the bedroom. There were silver trays laden with heaps of color piled on each plate, strewn about everywhere. Some on the bed stands, some on the dresser and some on the table next to the chaise lounge. Every hue she could think of was at her disposal. She clutched her heart as it flipped and fluttered in her chest. Only one person could’ve done this. She turned to look at her handsome husband, ready to fawn all over him. But all she saw were empty, desolate sheets. Her hand reached over to caress the space where her Arnavji always lay nearby, holding her close through the nights. Her hand continued to traverse up and caress over the dent in his pillow, where his beautiful head had rested. She picked it up and hugged it to her chest, taking a deep inhale of her favorite scent….the scent of him.

Khushi left the bed to hurriedly get ready and search for her husband. She had some celebrating to do, and there was no way she wanted to start this Holi without seeing his face first. Upon emerging from the bathroom, she went over to their closet. Her fingers rifled through her plethora of clothing until finally stopping at one sari. She bit her bottom lip, pulling it off the hanger, as a forbidden spark radiated through her. After that fateful one time, she never thought she would ever wear it again, but something had compelled her to stow it away. And now, it happened to be the only white she possessed at the moment, so it would have to make do. She quickly pleated the wispy white material and paired it with a rustic, canary yellow blouse. She deftly pinned her pallu and smoothed her hands over the sari, taking one last survey of herself before going to look for her Arnavji.

The whole morning passed by and she had yet to find her husband. She’d asked every member of the family but it seemed every time she went to his last seen place, he’d already vanished. Was he that busy that he didn’t even have a moment for her on Holi? Her eyes were hungry to see the sight of him. But amidst it all, she did not forget the hustle and bustle of preparations that went on in the Raizada house during a special occasion. She continued on with all the provisions for the festivities that would be soon starting, yet her eyes never stopped searching for her husband. An overburdened Hari Prakash crossed her line of vision, and she snapped out of her reverie for a moment. “Hari Prakash ji, lai ye. Hum madat kartay hain.” (“Give this to me Hari Prakash ji. I’ll help you.”)

“Khushi Bhabi! Aap ka laakh laakh shukar hai! Is matkay may paani bhar do. Hum dobara bahar ja te hain, Anjali Didi mujhe bullaa rehi thi.” (Khushi Bhabi! Thanks a million! Just fill this vessel with water please. I have to go back outside, Anjali Didi was calling me.”)

“Hum hai na? Koi baat nahi!” (“I’m here aren’t I? No worries!”) Khushi headed towards the kitchen as she waved off Hari Prakash. Her mind was busy juggling all her pending tasks, when her Arnavji finally came into view. She stood frozen in place, watching him gulp down a tall drink of water. Hey Devi Maiya, he was looking like a tall drink of water. Her husband was wearing a crisp white shirt that was uncharacteristically and roguishly untucked, with his top two buttons open. Her hand itched, wanting to slip inside that open juncture and feel his warm skin, to feel that dhak dhak dhak against her palm. She visually traced the outlining of the shirt and the way it lay across his broad back, tapering down until the shirttail curved loosely around his tush. A mighty fine tush that was encased in rugged denim. Khushi swallowed the excess saliva developing in her watering mouth. Seeing her Arnavji in jeans did…things to her body. She made a mental note to add more denim to his wardrobe. Quietly placing the matka on the floor, she touched the mountain of red color lying on the nearby countertop. Quickly sneaking up behind her husband, she streaked his stubbled cheek red and swiftly planted a kiss on the other one, catching him off guard. “Burrah na mano, Holi hai!!!” Khushi smiled cheerily as she finally wished him. Unfortunately her cheer was not reciprocated.

“Khushi, leave me alone!” Arnav turned on his heel and stomped away.

“Arrey! Arnavji rukiye to sai!!” (Hey! Arnavji wait a second!!”) Her husband had literally just huffed and puffed away from her. She knew he usually didn’t like playing Holi, but she didn’t think it warranted such a terse reaction. Undeterred by his crudeness, she diligently followed him up the stairs and into their bedroom. He’d turned his back on her and she watched for a moment as he drew in deep breaths, his fists clenching and unclenching. Determined to find out what was wrong, she faced him head on.

“Khushi, I told you to leave me alone! Go away!” Arnav once again turned his back.

Khushi was not fazed by her husband’s abrupt tone. In fact, her ears had long since been trained to decipher his often cryptic anger. She once again came around to face him. As he averted her path, Khushi saw him head straight for the door. Quickly scurrying ahead of him, she closed the doors and leaned against them, fully blocking his exit and trapping him in the room with her. She saw his eyes glint with cold, hard steel.

“Khushi, move out of my way.”

Her husband’s tone had almost sounded menacing. These days, she much preferred when his gravelly tone was used in other more intriguing genres of conversation. “I’m not going anywhere and neither are you until you tell me what the matter is.” Her husband’s response was to once again turn his back, crossing his arms over his chest, refusing to look at her. “Arnavji, please. Itna gussa kyon? (Why so mad?) Was it the color in the kitchen?” Khushi reached out a hand to place it on her husband’s shoulder. “It’s Holi…. I just thought…”

Arnav felt as though he’d been singed by her touch and immediately stepped away from her hand. It was almost unbearable.

“Arnavji…why are you so mad? What did I do?” Khushi refused to relent without an answer.

Arnav paced away towards the pool side doors, stopping at the chaise. “I’m not mad at you Khushi. I’m mad at MYSELF!!!”

Even though he’d just shouted at her, Khushi’s legs carried her over to her husband, fueled by the anguish she heard in his tone. “Kya…? With yourself??” 

Arnav abruptly turned and grabbed Khushi by her upper arms, bringing her to her tip toes in his tight hold. "Last year you were sleeping outside!! OUTSIDE KHUSHI! On the cold, hard brick floor, while I slept in the comfort and warmth of my bed! ALL BECAUSE OF ME! Who does that to someone, let alone their wife?? How could I have done that?” Arnav’s fingers lost strength and loosened in will as he dropped his hands to his sides. His gaze was drawn to the harsh, ruddy fingerprints appearing on his Khushi’s flawless skin. And he’d done it yet again. Proving exactly how unfit he was for her. “How am I supposed to be fine with myself after I treated my own wife like a....“ Arnav’s voice turned into a mere whisper as his legs gave out from under him. He sank onto the chaise, unable to face her.

Khushi saw her husband’s eyes glaze over with unshed tears, and they struck her straight in the heart. She just couldn’t watch them spill out. When she felt his head fall dejectedly against her, she placated him by pulling him even closer. Her arms came up to automatically cradle his head against her chest where he’d buried it. She ran her fingers through his hair, over his scalp, and he latched his arms onto her waist as if she was his anchor. She felt as if she was the only thing keeping him together. She stood there, smoothing her hands over his back and shoulders until his subtle tremors subsided. She leaned down to whisper close in his ear, her lips brushing the warm shell, “Arnavji, please don’t think of that”. Her own eyes glossed over and she tried to keep the quiver from her voice. “Don't think of those times. Especially now…when we've come so, so far. So far that you don’t even know….” Khushi pressed soft, comforting kisses to his temple, ear, and neck before resting her cheek atop his head and holding him close. Her Arnavji's turmoil subsided as he lifted his head, but she couldn’t handle seeing his damp eyes. She sank onto his lap, needing to be closer to him. She ran a hand over his cheeks effectively wiping away the lingering tear tracks.

As Arnav found the courage to finally look his wife in the eye, he was undeservingly graced with her beautiful, tumultuous smile. He saw barely contained tears brimming her light brown depths. Even when she should’ve been lashing out at him, she was his rock. She withstood everything he gave her, good or bad. She’d taken away his pain and absorbed it into herself. He could clearly see it reflecting through her glistening eyes. This was one of those times that he almost wanted to believe that there was in fact a man upstairs. Who else could have created such a magnificent, loving angel, with the most forgiving heart he’d ever met? She had to have descended from divinity. His own pari among mere mortals, sent down to earth to rescue him. He took a pinch of red powder and streaked it into the part in her hair, then reverently traced his stained fingers over her supple cheek. ”Khushi, I love you. Happy Holi sweetheart.” He leaned forward to place a kiss on her other cheek as his finger came to silence her lips. He just couldn’t bear to hear those three words back from her right now. His mouth was drawn to the warm plumpness of her quivering lips and he pressed tender kisses around her mouth. Seeing her unguarded expression, Arnav finally tilted his head to claim her lips.

Khushi closed her eyes and relished each brush of her Arnavji’s mouth. His kisses had started off as soft pecks that slowly began lingering. She felt a familiar heat rising in her veins. And then she felt her husband’s heat rise prominently against her hip. She shied away, quickly clambering off his lap, but couldn’t make the hasty retreat she intended. Her pallu was stuck! She had flashbacks to all the times her dupatta had snagged on the houseplants and furniture. She reluctantly turned to free herself and noted the source of hindrance. No, it wasn’t one of the houseplants or furniture, but instead was her Arnavji, unrelentingly holding her pallu in his fist. Khushi’s cheeks warmed, feeling sure that they were giving the red powder a run for its money. “Arnavji choriye! It’s…it’s the middle of the day! The family will look for us!” She tried, futilely, to free her pallu from his iron grip.

Arnav stood, twisted his wrist, wrapping another layer of her pallu around his fist, tugging her closer into his space. He took a moment to inhale her soft, feminine scent. “So? Let them.”

Khushi’s heart raced as he prowled closer, her body frozen in place. She fixed her gaze, looking at something over his shoulder. “Na…Nani ji, aap?!” Her Arnavji immediately released her, looking away at the sound of his grandmother’s name. Khushi took advantage of the diversion she’d created and made a quick escape. Once she was safely outside their bedroom doors, she paused to look at her husband. His astonishment turned predatory and she gave him a huge smile before running away, feeling elatedly flustered.

A little while later, Arnav had made his way back outside to watch the festivities. If he wanted to be honest, he wasn’t watching the festivities as much as he was watching his Khushi. He probably looked like a voyeur, if a husband could ever be called that, while he admired his wife. He watched his little pixie flutter from person to person, sprinkling her magic fairy dust on everyone, leaving them enamored with her bubbliness, as contagious as it was. He could’ve sworn she even glowed, attesting to her ever-ethereal quality. He needed nor sun nor moon with her in his life. She was the light that illuminated his darkness. He watched her impish ways as she chased Bhuaji with fistfuls of color while avoiding her Amma’s loving swats. He, however, stayed a safe distance away, knowing she'd do something silly, like slip him some bhang, at first chance. There was no way he was going to act a fool in front of his family for a second year in a row. He watched her wrap her pallu around and tuck the tail into the front of her waist. She made some space for herself amongst the bhang makers and took a seat. He listened to her address them all as “uncle ji” as she spoke of her bhang making days in Lucknow. Arnav began to wonder how much she’d drank exactly. Intending to find out immediately, he extracted his wife from the men and dragged her into the house.

“Arnavji! But....Holi...the bhang!!”

Arnav continued to lead her up the steps until she freed herself from his grasp and began to run ahead of him. Suddenly, she missed a step and almost tumbled down. But he’d already given in to the chase and hadn’t missed a beat, catching her close to his chest the moment she fumbled. His Khushi clung to him, almost desperately tight, as she got over the initial shock of almost falling.  He shushed her with soothing words as she continued to thank him for catching her, clutching him close.

“Arnavji I...I need to tell....”

Tears had sprung into his wife’s sparkling eyes. The bhang was obviously getting to her and he gave her a small smile. “Hey. No tears. I’ll always catch you.” He smoothed his thumbs over her cheeks to wipe the lingering moisture away. “I’ll never let you fall Khushi. I’m with you.” Arnav tucked her loose locks behind her ears and placed a kiss on her forehead. With only a few steps left, he scooped her up and brought her into their bedroom. Placing her on her feet, he locked the door behind them. “Khushi, there’s some serious business we need to discuss.” He watched as she blinked adorably in confusion, resembling a child that knew they were in trouble. “We need to address this.”

Khushi watched as her husband pulled out a wrinkled slip of paper from his wallet and handed it to her. She took in her hastily scribbled signature under the two-line I.O.U. It was the loan she promised to repay him from the previous year’s Holi. She smiled brightly, not believing that her Arnavji had kept that little scrap of paper. “Aap ko ye 300 rupay chahi ye?” (“You need these 300 rupees?”)

Arnav slowly shook his head at his beautiful wife. It was time for him to stir some trouble. “No sweetheart. It’s been a year. With interest, you owe me much more than that.”

Khushi sensed her husband’s mischief and decided to play along. After the rocky morning they had, she was just glad to have her Arnavji back in a playful mood. She pretended to pat herself down. “Arnavji I’m sorry I can’t pay you back right now. Saris don’t come equipped with pockets.”

Arnav stalked Khushi. With every step he took to approach her, she took one in retreat, until he had her by the dresser. His gaze dropped to her ripe cherry lips before meeting hers again, and Khushi quickly turned to face the mirror, unable to bear his smoldering eyes.

“I’m a generous husband Khushi. You can pay me back in other ways.” He let his voice drop to a hoarse rumble, enjoying the way his wife’s breathing had picked up pace. Keeping her gaze ensnared in the mirror, he reached around and dipped both his hands in the piles of red powder lying on the silver trays in front of them. His colored fingers made a slow, sensual trail down her bare, milky arms. He watched his Khushi’s eyes droop shut as goosebumps appeared along the path of red color, and he took a moment to ogle her body. He had to admit, his Khushi was clever and becoming quite the seductress, wearing the same sari she had when they’d hid away in that abandoned hut in the woods. To this day, anytime he saw white chiffon, his blood would start pumping faster. “Khushi, this sari has been driving me crazy all day.” She'd even tied the back of the blouse into an intricate knot. His fingers itched to untie it.

Khushi slowly opened her eyes as her skin began to tingle under her husband’s intimate scrutiny. She watched him through the mirror as he watched her through hooded eyes. His heated gaze, along with his heated body, loomed close behind, encasing her in an aura of allure.

Arnav placed soft, suckling kisses along her nape before he reached up and smeared it with red powder. His mouth continued to kiss the delicate round slope of her shoulder and the side of her neck as his hands drew red streaks across the open back of her choli. Everywhere his mouth touched, his red stained hands followed, eager to color the white canvas of her skin. When he’d had enough of exploring her back, he turned her around, cupping her face between his palms to kiss her like he was starving. His mouth nibbled and pulled at her bottom lip before his tongue weaved its way into her sweet mouth. With every soft, wet stroke he apologized for all the times he’d royally fucked up and for every time he’d been a pompous asshole. When he felt his Khushi clutch at his shirt front, taking wholly from his kiss, he eased back a breadth. He leaned his forehead against hers as they silently shared some much needed air. When his wife placed her hand over his heart, he finally opened his eyes to look at her. He instantly smiled at the sight of her thoroughly smeared, red cheeks and watched as she began to slowly open her eyes.

Khushi’s eyelid flickered rapidly and she let out a sharp protest. Leave it to her to get something in her eye, yet again! She reached up a hand to alleviate it.

Arnav quickly halted her hand. “Wait.” He leaned forward and blew a soft whisper of air to remove the flecks of red powder away. When she finally stopped twitching, her eyes fixated onto his, ever so dreamily. Arnav smirked to himself. He knew he had her. “You know Khushi, for someone who takes pride in being a ‘Holi champ’, you sure did a crappy job.”

Khushi snapped out of her trance, thoroughly affronted. “I colored everyone so good! Even Aman ji!”

Arnav’s eyebrows scowled involuntarily at the mention of another man’s name, then came back to the topic at hand. “But you didn’t get me…”

“Yes I did! I streaked your cheek this morning. You were the first person I colored!”

“But Khushi, don’t you see? It’s already faded...” Arnav began to slowly unbutton his shirt, caging her in again. He watched his wife’s eyes follow his hands until the last button was freed. Taking her hand, he dipped her delicate fingers in the red powder and placed it in the middle of his own chest.

Khushi eyed the bare skin peeking out at her between the openings of his shirt. She slowly traced her stained fingers down that narrow strip of inviting flesh, and her Arnavji’s hand fell away, allowing her to discard his shirt off to the side. She didn’t need any direction in this arena. She loved exploring the planes and carvings of her Arnavji’s body. She colored the line bisecting his pec muscles, then traced her red fingers around each definition of his toned abdomen. Her hands continued to absorb his warm skin as she drew along his pelvis, filling in the deep lines of his v-indentation with the red powder. She traced lower and lower until she was hindered by the waistband of his pants. Undeterred by clothing, she detoured her path to circle the vibrant color around his belly button. She bravely locked eyes with her husband as she reached back and dipped her palms in the mounds of color. With unwavering eye contact, she placed her stained hands on his chest, gliding up to his shoulders then around his neck.  Her fingers sifted through his hair, streaking it red, delving deeper into the silken mane, inviting him closer.

Arnav’s reddened hands were busy climbing up his wife’s back, unerringly making their way towards that teasing knot. He watched in the mirror as he deftly untied it and it beguilingly unraveled in its flouncy manner. Khushi immediately plastered herself against him. He knew he’d just undone the restraints to her chest. He watched the reflection of his hands as they slid across her exposed back, removing the scrap of her blouse before continuing lower to cup her pert behind. He pulled and tugged at the wispy white material, liking the way his bronze skin contrasted against her peaches and cream skin. The way his red palms stained her sari, creating endless swirls of messy pink. It was a vortex of vermillion against snow white chiffon, just as he was the torrent that had invaded her pristine heart. Grasping her hips, he hoisted her onto the dresser, hiking the remainder of her pleats up and slid her panties off, letting his intention be known.

Khushi only had a moment to let out a startled moan and then her Arnavji was on her. His mouth sensuously conquered her lips as his kiss invaded her soul. She willing ceded to his persuasive coercion. 

Arnav dipped his hands in the red powder and sensually traced them around his wife’s pretty, amber areolas.  He watched as her nipples pebbled up, begging for his touch. He eagerly obliged, skimming them with his fingertips before rolling them with a soft tweak. His Khushi unconsciously parted her thighs, allowing him space to come even closer.

As her husband continued to stroke across her nipples and delved in to kiss her mouth, she nimbly unzipped his fly. Her fingers found his manhood and she fervently freed him from all confines.  

Arnav quickly encased his own hands over hers. She was in hurry, but he was not. He took his time and guided her hands within his, swirling his engorged tip up and down her warm, feminine valley, enjoying the way her eyes rolled back before falling shut. His Khushi expelled rapid breaths with the softest moans punctuating each one. He then circled her clitoris with his blunt head, slowly torturing himself but enjoying the way she bucked her hips in response. He smirked to himself and continued on to tease.

Khushi watched her Arnavji’s soft, pink lips curve into a sly smile. She could stare at his mouth for days. That stubble, those lips….she had to have them. She tilted her face up and caught them between her own, taking her time to savor his plump bottom lip. Her tongue darted out to lick and taste and it was keenly met with his own. It was a timeless dance of soft, wet, velvet strokes. Khushi moaned before taking advantage of the upper hand and guided her Arnavji into her body.

Arnav let out a groan from the back of his throat at the feeling of being deeply encased in his wife’s deliciously slick tightness. Her warm breaths fanned across his ear before he felt her latch onto his lobe, suckling softly. He felt a spark zip down his spine, straight into his groin. His hands came up to grip her thighs, holding her open as he rocked back and forth, in and out of his Khushi’s body.

Khushi wrapped one arm around her husband and held onto the dresser with the other. The little trinkets sitting on the dresser rattled off onto the floor as her husband brought her closer and closer to the ultimate euphoria. She loved this man unconditionally, and loved when their bodies were joined like this. They were connected as only a man and wife were meant to be, becoming wholly one, in search of a mutual bliss. She felt the beginning of that sweet, sharp ache unravel within her, and she cried out to her husband. “Arnavji!” He opened his eyes just as she climaxed. Khushi couldn’t look away as his whiskey irises darkened into a malt scotch. She persistently clenched his girth until she felt his release within her.

Arnav recouped enough to find the energy to lift his limp wife and take her over to the bed and lie her down. She made quite a vision in her state of half-dress with splotches of red powder all over her, thanks to the craftiness of his own hands. He continued to slip the remainder of that alluring white chiffon off her hips. Finding a patch of unstained material, he used that bit of her sari to clean the excess red powder off her face. As much as he’d enjoyed painting it, he much preferred to see his Khushi as her natural beautiful self. When his gaze fell onto hers, he noted that her eyes had misted up again. “Khushi, how much bhang did you drink?” His wife averted his gaze and looked everywhere but at him. Arnav gently held her chin to make her look his way. “Tell me. How much?”

“Devi Maiya ki kassam (I swear), not a drop.”

“Maybe someone slipped you some by claiming it was tandhai.” Arnav recalled how his wife had done that very same trickery on him last year.

“I didn’t drink any tandhai either…” Khushi’s heart beat frantically as her eyes continued to well up.

“Khushi, mujhe patha hai ke tum sanki ho, Bhuaji ne tumara sai naam rakha hai. (Khushi I know you’re a bit crazy, Bhuaji nicknamed you appropriately.) But this is a bit much even for you.” His wife shook her head and closed her eyes. Arnav felt his heart constrict. He had to find the reason his wife was feeling this way. “Khushi, why so emotional?? Holi is one of your favorite holidays.”

“Ar…Arnavji….I….”

“What is it Khushi? Tell me. Please.” Arnav stroked her hair away from her face as his eyes searched hers.

“Arnavji….I’m pregnant. Aap…aap Papa ban ne vale ho…. (You’re…you’re going to be a father…)”

Arnav’s world spun yet time somehow stood still, all at once. And then it dawned on him as to why she’d stayed away from all the drinks being made. And why she'd been so startled when she'd almost fell at the stairs earlier in the afternoon. Her softly whispered words echoed through his mind “We've come so, so far. So far that you don’t even know….” Arnav locked eyes with the woman who always bestowed him with insurmountable happiness. “Khushi, really? We're going to be parents?” His wife gave him a nod, her eyes pooling with tears again. Arnav couldn’t help his disbelief as he pointed in the general direction of her stomach. “Right now?? In here??” His voice cracked, relaying his emotion. As his own eyes went bleary, he leaned forward to kiss his Khushi’s eyelids. His heart burst with joy and his happiness went unchecked as he showered her face with soft kisses to convey what words were failing to express. She let out a happy, tearful smile at his reaction. Arnav wiped at his wife’s tears and pressed more soft kisses onto her face. “Khushi I love you so much.”

“I love you too.” Khushi felt as if a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. This morning she’d woken with an underlying mixture of excitement and anxiety over the prospect of telling her husband he was going to be a father. She was ecstatic from the moment she’d found out yesterday, but wasn’t sure how her Arnavji would feel. Now knowing that he was as elated as her, she felt immense relief and could whole heartedly bask in the new discovery.

Arnav kissed his wife before taking her hand and reaching over to the piles of color sitting on their bed stand. Entwining their fingers as if it were one hand, he dipped both their fingers into the pink and blue powders. Sliding down the bed, he placed a lingering kiss on her still-flat tummy as he used their fingers to swipe the colors across her abdomen. His hand continued to caress over it more fully as he rested his head there, listening to his wife and child breathing in unison. Wanting to talk to the little miracle growing inside his wife, he gently placed his lips against the skin of her stomach. “Happy Holi, little one. I can’t wait to meet you.”

The Yoga Ve

Arnav leisurely padded across the room, his fingers meticulously flipping through the file in his hand as he listened to Aman’s voice through the bluetooth reciting the latest revisions in the document. Something drew his gaze poolside as he passed by the open french doors. His lips twitched into a smile on their own accord as he absorbed the sight of his wife. Wearing her turquoise night suit, the pool continued to bathe her form in its shimmery, reflective light. For reasons beyond his understanding, he was inexplicably lured by her.….adorableness. He stood frozen in place, unable to tear his eyes off her as she struggled to contort herself into various poses.

“And then we told them to get rid of that last stipulation or else the deal wasn’t going to happen.” Aman waited for his boss to give him the green light on their latest project. There was a time when they would talk shop twenty-four seven and his mentor would be ready with answers before he even posed the questions. Mr. Raizada was sharp as a tack. But since he’d gotten married, his attention seemed to be…..elsewhere. He honestly couldn’t blame the man though. He would probably be in the same predicament if he had a wife like Mrs. Raizada. Aman dared to smirk, knowing very well that ASR was fully occupied at the moment. Carefully keeping the humor out of his tone, he cleared his throat after the silence extended from pensive to awkward. “Sir? Would you like anymore changes to the document before I send it out?”

Arnav blinked, realizing his right hand man was becoming an inadvertent bystander to his lascivious thoughts. Keeping his eyes on his wife, he replied back curtly. “The changes are fine. I’ll call you back.”

“Sure sir.”

“And Aman?”

“Yes sir?”

“Wipe that damn smirk off your face.” Arnav ended the call and tossed the bluetooth onto the table. He’d just barked at his assistant, probably to try and cover up the fact that his ears were warm with chagrin.

Khushi blew the bangs out of her eyes as she stretched over to one side. “Breathe through the burn, Khushi!” Sam bhaiya’s encouraging words drifted through her mind as she completed her thirty second hold. She rose and adjusted her stance, gingerly bending her knee and resting the sole of her foot against the inside of her other leg. As she folded her hands together, she slowly brought them over her head. “Devi Maiya, please don’t let me fall this time” she silently prayed. She straightened her posture, precariously teetering on her unstable foot. “Stupid Vrksasana tree pose!” she muttered under her breath. Just as the words left her mouth she lost her footing, ready to dive head first into the pool.

Arnav bolted out the poolside door and was behind his wife in a flash. He quickly held her hands in place until she regained her balance.

Khushi felt the heat of her husband and inhaled the delicious scent of him before she even realized he’d caught her. As he helped her stand upright, she felt her arms being lowered to her sides. Her eyes drooped shut as his fingers caressed a tickling path up her arms before placing the softest kiss on her cheek. Her eyes opened as she turned around, guided by his gentle insistence.

Arnav was quick to catch his Khushi as she aptly tripped while trying to face him, his arms automatically winding around her waist by second nature. He stared intimately at his wife, the tiniest of smiles playing across his lips. “Khushi, why do you keep doing these yoga poses? You already won the competition.” His voice had dropped an octave, becoming even raspier than it already was.

“Arnavji, I..…I have to stay fit. Sam bhaiya said there are a lot of photo shoots coming up…” Khushi was having a hard time forming sentences as she dangled comfortably within the confines of her husband’s strong arms. She watched the way his eyes danced with humor and then darkened with desire…..for her.

“And I said I wanted you to put on some weight, right?” He watched as her liquid amber depths visibly flickered with confusion at him.

“But Arnavji…I don’t understand why….” Khushi felt her face begin to flush under her husband’s intense, intimate gaze.

Arnav carefully gathered his wife closer to the heat of his body as he leaned down to whisper in her ear. “More cushion for the pushin’, sweetheart.”

“K…kya?” (“W…what?”) Khushi wondered where that husky crack in her voice had emerged from. And she thought her English was pretty good, but sometimes her husband’s verbiage eluded her.

Arnav smirked at his wife’s ever-lingering innocence. He would never tire of enlightening her about all the different realms of intimacy. He securely pulled her form flush against his chest as he slid one hand down to cup her firm bottom. He pressed the soft, inviting give between her legs into the unyielding one between his own. To punctuate his point, he gave a languid squeeze to the under-curve of her derriere.

Khushi gasped, the innuendo of his words finally sinking in. “Nahi!” (“No!”) Even though a sharp zing had zipped straight to her core as his intentions dawned on her, she tried her best to be affronted. Mrs. India was, after all, to act a lady at all times! When she refocused her eyes, she realized her husband was leaning in to steal a kiss. She took advantage and quickly pushed him away. “Arnavji choriye (let go)! I’m all sweaty!”

“Khushi come back! I can work you out!!” Arnav teased fiendishly as he watched his wife make a beeline away from him. He couldn’t help but smile. He just loved flustering her.

Khushi scurried into the bathroom as quick as she could get there. After shutting the door, she gazed at her reflection in the mirror. She could feel the blood pumping throughout her being, her skin warm and flushed as her pulse thudded a rapid beat. Her husband was cut from a unique cloth, and he was utterly incorrigible! Her lips turned up into an uncontrollable smile as she blushed at her own giddiness, then turned away to disrobe. She’d been longing for a hot shower all day. Finally stepping in, she let the stream of water pelt her face and sluice over her scalp. She took a deep inhale of the soothing scent emanating from her shampoo before reaching up and working it into the massive weight of her hair. Her fingers struggled to dig into the impossibly thick tresses in an attempt to dissipate the dull headache she had. The hair dresser had tugged this way and that, trying to get it just right for the day’s photo shoot. Her poor follicles and scalp! Khushi closed her eyes and let out an exasperated sigh, her arms dropping to her sides, already tired from reaching up. And then she felt strong yet gentle, knowing fingers take control, massaging over her scalp exactly how she needed. Now Khushi sighed with immense relief. She didn’t even bother to open her eyes, already basking in her husband’s masterful touch.

Arnav had not for one second been deterred by his suddenly bashful wife running away from him. If anything, this coy cat and mouse play had thrilled him even more. For the duration of the competition he had promised himself not to push Khushi or make advances towards her. He hadn't wanted to hinder with or impede her chances at winning in any way. Yet despite all that, it hadn’t stopped them from making love, to his pleasant surprise. His minx of a wife had initiated each time, letting her inner desires be known, which he’d not only allowed, but thoroughly reveled in. Now that she’d won the whole ordeal, his self-imposed embargo was lifted. The past few days of self-control had left his body restless and aching for her. He was determined to remind her of the rogue he really was, with an underlying promise of sweet devastation.

Khushi kept her eyes closed as she reached up and held onto her Arnavji’s broad, smooth shoulders for balance. She could feel the thick lather being worked into her hair as his fingers continued their gentle kneading. She felt him drop a kiss on the side of her neck before he urged her to take a step back, putting her directly under the stream of flowing water. Khushi let her head fall fully into her husband’s palms as they slid to cup the weight. She could feel him sifting through her strands with long strokes as he carefully rinsed them out.

Steam billowed everywhere, sensually enveloping them into a world where nothing existed but him and his beautiful wife. When he reached over for the shower gel, his Khushi finally opened her eyes. He sudsed his hands and slid them onto her back, a serene silence between them, as he watched her unguarded, complaisant expression. Even though she said nothing, her eyes spoke volumes to him. “You can have whatever you want.”

Khushi’s heart beat erratically as her husband lovingly washed her back. He turned her around to face the stream as his hands glided in a slow, slippery caress starting at her neck. Her eyes fell shut as his touch roamed over her breasts, and she let out a whimper when he didn’t linger, letting her dismay be known. She felt his hands continue down her abdomen, her belly quivering under the heat of his palms. He traversed across her hips and briefly brushed over her mound before letting his hands fall away. Bereft of her husband’s touch, nothing but the water continued to caress her skin, carrying the lingering soap suds down her legs and off her body.

Arnav was always drawn to that delicate crook between his wife’s shoulder and neck. The first time he’d explored this hidden treasure, he’d discovered the spot where her intoxicatingly sweet scent always clung. He’d also learned that this was a spot his Khushi was immensely responsive to. He leaned down and leisurely nuzzled the sensitive area, before laying his lips upon it. His hands reached up to hold her waist as she began to squirm, his name escaping her lips on a moan. He turned her around in his hold, his chocolate eyes deeply searching her hazelnut ones. “What do you want Khushi?” he asked in a raspy whisper which conveyed his state. He watched her lashes lower beguilingly as she demurely rested her palms on his chest. After these past few days, his vixen had gone shy on him. And that just made his blood pump even faster. Cupping her jaw, he tilted her face up and took her mouth deep. There was no tentativeness here. He plundered and consumed, drinking from her lips, wanting to get drunk off of and seeking that nasha that only she possessed, and he craved. When he felt his wife curl her delicate fingers into the flesh of his pecs, he began to ease back. Pulling his face a mere inch away from hers, he surveyed her mouth. Satisfaction resonated through him as he took in his wife's swollen, puffy, perfectly ripe cherry lips. Wanting to keep his Khushi off kilter, he quickly turned her around to face the spray of water and hoarsely whispered into her ear, requesting again “Tell me what you want sweetheart”. She reached back for his thigh and curled her fingers into the muscle there. He knew what she was silently imploring from that one little gesture. He placed a soft, lingering nip on her neck as he surged into her from behind. His Khushi did not stay silent on this, and let her shoulders drop back onto him with a luxurious moan.

All of Khushi’s nerve endings had been on high alert and came alive at the feel of her husband’s body inside her. She'd been rather enjoying his debauchery while indulging in some visual liberties of her own. When he'd pulled away from that earth shattering kiss, her eyes had immediately been drawn to his muscled chest. She watched the stream of water create wet streaks across his skin and she suddenly found herself to be very thirsty. She watched the rivulets' paths trickle down his tight torso, a few drops disappearing into his navel. She'd licked her lips at the thought of exploring that shallow crevice, but before she could react, he'd turned her around to continue his own erotic assault. But even that thrilled her because she secretly loved feeling him from behind. It always created an air of mystery and made her hyper-aware of his every touch. A scintillating spark radiated through her, beginning at her intimate core and shot outward from the top of her head to the bottoms of her tippy toes. Her arousal grew keener as her Arnavji began palming her breasts with slick hands.

Arnav had resudsed his hands, wanting to love her perfectly round globes and toy with her peaks. He continued a consistent rhythm, sliding in and out of her luscious body as he teased her nipples between the web spaces of his fingers. Both hands joined in, slickly gliding back and forth, pinching lightly, before rubbing his palms across the tips. He unhurriedly drew lazy circles then took the heavy weights and massaged them. He couldn’t get enough of her, she just fit so perfectly in his hands. And fit so perfectly around him. His Khushi arched her back and pushed back against him. Her hips wantonly gyrated, asking for more, under their own accord. As his hands continued to busy themselves with the soft weights of her chest, his mouth was once again lured to her neck. He placed soft, nibbling nips around her nape as he reached for the shower spray. Unlatching it from its holster, he lowered the showerhead. He let the stream of water linger over her breasts to wash away any remnants of soap and his pupils dilated at the sight of her slick, glistening skin. Arnav brought the nozzle closer to her chest so the rough spray could abrade her nipples. Khushi intimately tightened around him and let out a lusty moan. Fueled by her uninhibited reaction, he lowered the shower spray slowly until it was aimed just so, towards her clitoris. He brought the nozzle up close so the turgid stream pulsed directly against her sensitive bundle.

Khushi felt fireworks ignite low in her belly and shrieked her husband’s name, the stream of water caressing over her as intimately as her husband’s member thrust into her. “Arnavji!”

Arnav felt his wife’s inner walls pulse with her pending release before she exploded. Her body convulsed around his length and she continually pushed back against him, rhythmically constricting him until he was forced to pump himself in and out, finding his own nirvana. Heavy breathing and soft pants echoed through the shower stall as they clutched each other with their hands, holding the nearest flesh they could find. Arnav lifted his head from the nook where he’d been resting it and held her hips as he gently pulled out, placing a kiss on the back of her head. His Khushi immediately turned and hugged him close, her face burrowing into the notch under his chin. His hands came up to stroke over her back as his mouth dropped a kiss on her temple. “Sweetheart, ready for bed?” he mumbled into her fragrant hair. But Khushi gave no reply. He pulled her face away, only to have her head loll into the crook of his elbow. He absently smiled and shook his head, brushing the thick wet ropes of her hair away from her angelic face. “Only you can fall asleep while standing, Khushi Kumari Gupta Singh Raizada. Pagal ladki. (Crazy girl.)” He carefully swept up his sleeping beauty and took her to bed.

As he climbed in behind her, he tucked her body tightly to the front of his. He stroked her hair back and nuzzled his nose against her nape before gazing at her sweetly slumbering features. “Who said being Mrs. India was easy?” He smiled again as he received silence for a reply. “Sach may….jabb tum so ti ho, tumse baat karna kitna assan ho jata hai.” (“Really, when you sleep, it becomes so easy to talk to you.”) His wife responded with a soft, inelegant snore. His grin grew wider. “But I guess having a sponsor by day and husband by night is even more tiresome!” His wife cuddled his arm closer to her body. She snuggled further into his warmth, inviting him to drift into a blissful sleep along with her where he set about on a new mission to meet her in her dreams.