u/punamray

My husband and I are in an open marriage, but he enjoys it far more than I did.

Last Sunday, I secretly checked his phone (Which I do often) I found a message from another woman, and even though our relationship allows it, something inside me changed. I started asking myself why he was having all the fun while I kept holding back.

I reached out to my regular partners. One was out of town, and the other two couldn't host on Monday. So I did something I never imagined I'd do I made a Reddit post looking to meet someone new.

Then I remembered that Monday was Vat Purnima, a day when married women fast for their husbands. Since we also fast on Tuesday, I pushed my plans to Wednesday.

On Sunday night, my husband and I didn't have sex. Monday night, we didn't either. Meanwhile, I was chatting with strangers, planning a hookup, and observing a fast for my husband.

Tuesday night, my husband and I were intimate.

Then on Wednesday, I met someone from Reddit. That night, I was back in bed with my husband.

Now I already have plans to meet someone else on Saturday.

I don't know what I'm becoming. Part of me feels guilty at times, but if I'm being completely honest... I'm enjoying this side of myself more than I ever expected.

My husband and I are in an open relationship.

Yesterday, I met someone from Reddit and had sex with him without telling my husband beforehand. It wasn't because I thought he'd stop me or be upset about the sex itself. I just wasn't prepared for the questions I knew would follow.

"How did you meet him?" (I couldn't say Reddit because he doesn't know I'm here.)

"Why meet a stranger when you could hook up with someone you already know?"

So I chose not to tell him.

Do you consider cheating, or just keeping something to myself?

For the first time ever, I'm meeting someone from Reddit in real life today.

I'm excited... but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little nervous too. There's this tiny voice in my head asking, "What if this is a terrible idea?"

At this point, I honestly don't know what else Reddit will make me do.

Wish me luck. Hopefully I'll come back with a good story to tell.

​

Here is the link for Part 3:

[https://www.reddit.com/r/sexstories/s/5wLzIDPDam\](https://www.reddit.com/r/sexstories/s/5wLzIDPDam)

PART 04:

The room smelled of sex, his and mine.

My head rested on his chest. I kept thinking about what had just happened and wondering what was going on in his mind.

So I brushed my finger slowly over his chest and looked up at him.

“Do you think I should warn him?” I asked softly.

He met my eyes.

“Tell him not to message me,” I continued.

My husband held me tighter against his chest.

“I don’t think that’s what you want.”

I traced a lazy circle around his nipple, feeling it harden beneath my touch.

“Really?” I whispered. “Then what do I want?”

His hand slid down to my ass, squeezing it firmly and pulling me even closer.

“You know exactly what you want,” he said.

But the truth was, I didn’t. Or maybe I did, and I was just afraid to say it out loud.

We fell silent again. I wanted him to say something more, but he didn’t. And I don’t know when I fell asleep.

The next morning, when I reached for my phone, there was already a message waiting.

A photo of the rising sun from his morning jog.

‘Good morning.’

I smiled and went about my work. Later, when I finally settled down with a cup of coffee, I opened WhatsApp and stared at the message for a long moment before replying.

‘Good morning.’

Just my luck, Dev appeared behind me at that exact moment. He looked at my phone, kissed my cheek, pressed my breasts teasingly, and walked away.

'Oh God.' I wanted him to drag me to the bedroom and ruin me again like last night. But with his health, I knew that wasn’t possible anymore.

So I just sipped my coffee quietly and immediately went for a bath secretly carrying the toy with me.

The sound of the shower filled the bathroom while warm water ran slowly over my body. I stood there for a moment with my eyes closed, trying to calm myself down.

But my mind kept returning to his photo from morning jog.

I leaned my head against the wet tiles and let my imagination take over. In my mind, it was Raghav standing in front of me under the shower, his hands on my waist, his voice close to my ear while he filled me completely.

And somewhere between the warm water, my racing heartbeat, and the fantasy inside my head, I realised I was no longer even trying to stop myself from thinking about him anymore.

I returned to the bedroom wrapped in a towel and tried to quietly keep the toy back in its place.

But my luck was terrible.

Just then, Dev entered the room, and in panic I dropped the toy on the floor.

He paused and looked at it. Then at me.

I felt embarrassed beyond explanation. Yesterday I had asked him to use it on me, but today I had used it on myself. That had never happened before.

I quickly bent down to pick it up and said, “I took it to clean it.”

He nodded slowly and smiled.

After I kept it safely back and turned around, he was suddenly standing right in front of me.

“Thank God you told me you took it to the bedroom to clean it,” he said softly, “Because for a moment I thought you took it to the bathroom to imagine how Raghav would make you feel under the shower.”

I flushed with embarrassment because my husband had guessed exactly what I had done.

He gave me a small kiss on the lips and walked away while drops of water still slipped down my body, making me feel strangely exposed.

Meanwhile my single message was all the encouragement Raghav needed.

From then on, my phone buzzed throughout the day.

Some I replied, most I ignored.

But no matter how little attention I gave him, he kept coming back with the same calm energy, as if he already knew I was interested even when I refused to admit it myself.

For two days, his messages became part of my routine. And every time my phone vibrated, a small rush of heat moved through me.

Dev never asked about him again directly, but I could feel it in the way he touched me. Maybe the thought of another man wanting me, and me showing interest back, had awakened something powerful inside him. And each night, when he pulled me close and made love to me with that same intense desire, I knew he was thinking about the possibility that another man couldn’t stop thinking about his wife.

And every time he touched me, I could feel myself slipping deeper into a fantasy.

Then came the message that changed everything for real.

It was Friday. I was in my office finishing an admission interview with another family when my phone buzzed on the desk beside me.

Without thinking, I glanced at the screen.

It was a message from Raghav. But this message was different.

‘My wife and son are going to her parents’ house for the weekend. Do you want to come over for lunch?’

For a moment, I forgot what I was saying. The words on the screen felt like they were burning into my mind.

“Ma’am, are you okay?”

One of the teachers standing beside me looked concerned.

I forced a smile. “Yes.”

I continued the conversation, nodding and speaking as if nothing had happened, but my thoughts were no longer in the room.

Lunch.

That was all he had asked for.

The sensible thing would have been to call him and ask how he could think I was that kind of woman.

But he hadn’t invited me to bed.

He had invited me to lunch.

That was the story I kept telling myself.

I didn’t reply. But the messages kept coming.

‘Hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable.’

‘We can just talk.’

‘No pressure.’

And then finally: ‘I’d really like to spend some time with you alone.’

I should have blocked him. Instead, I kept reading every message.

That night, I carried a restless energy to bed with me, and Dev noticed it immediately.

As I lay with my head on his chest while his fingers moved absently through my hair, he asked, “What’s on your mind?”

I hesitated, then told him about the invitation.

He stayed quiet for a moment before asking, “Don’t you want to go?”

I lifted my head to look at him.

“It’s at his home.”

He shrugged slightly.

“It’s just lunch.”

I searched his face, unsure if he was serious.

“What if he wants more?”

His hand stroked my back slowly.

“You can walk away anytime.”

Then his eyes locked onto mine.

“Unless you want more too.”

My throat tightened.

I didn’t know what to say. The truth was, I had no clear answer. Going to his home for lunch was completely unnecessary. There was no practical reason to say yes.

And yet, I couldn’t deny how badly I wanted to know what would happen if I did.

I buried my face against my husband’s chest, overwhelmed by the mix of fear, excitement, and desire swirling inside me.

After a long silence, he kissed the top of my head.

“Go for lunch,” he said softly. “Then you’ll know what you really want.”

I lifted my head and pressed a slow kiss against his chest.

That kiss was my answer.

The next morning, I woke before dawn, my mind already racing.

I couldn’t explain the restless energy that had settled inside me. It felt like anticipation, guilt, excitement, and fear all tangled together.

Unable to lie still, I slipped out of bed and went to the kitchen.

I made my husband his favorite breakfast. When he walked in and saw everything laid out on the table, he smiled.

“You’re spoiling me today.”

I returned his smile, hoping he couldn’t see how nervous I was.

Part of me hated that he was home that morning. Not because I didn’t want him there, but because I was afraid he would read my face too easily. One lingering look, one trembling hand, and he would know exactly what was happening inside me.

By mid-morning, I had made my decision.

I would go to school.

There was no urgent work waiting for me, but I told him there was.

“I need to stop by for a few hours,” I said casually. “Some admissions paperwork.”

He looked up from his coffee and nodded.

“Okay.”

That was all. No mention of the lunch invitation.

I dressed carefully, choosing a simple kurta modest and ordinary. I avoided anything too obvious, anything that might make my husband suspect how excited and anxious I really was.

I carried no extra bag. No change of clothes. Nothing that would suggest I was preparing for lunch with him.

When I was ready to leave, I stood at the door for a moment.

My husband glanced at me, his expression unreadable.

If he was thinking about where I might go after school, he gave no sign.

Since our conversation the night before, he hadn’t asked a single question about the lunch.

I leaned down and kissed him goodbye.

“See you later.”

I wanted to tell him I was really going for lunch at Raghav’s place that day, but I couldn’t.

He returned the kiss with calm, steady affection.

“Drive safe.”

That was it. And it confused me.

As I stepped outside and closed the door behind me, my pulse quickened.

For the first time, there was nothing left to hide behind.

The decision was mine.

And with every step toward my car, the reality of what I was about to do felt more and more real.

Note : It's a fiction entirely.

33-year-old married woman here.

Looking for a meetup on Wednesday after 3:00 PM for 2–3 hours. (Change day as Monday is Vat Purnima!)

Please DM only if you can host at your place anywhere between Santacruz and Goregaon. I'm not interested in hotels.

If you message me, please include your location and a few details about yourself in your DM.

If you can't host within the mentioned area, please don't DM.

No moral lectures, please. Thanks.

PLEASE COMMENT HERE AND I WILL DM.

Here is the link to the previous part: https://www.reddit.com/u/punamray/s/xWw2VVEgBO

PART 03:

I lay in bed the same night with my novel open in my hands. Beside me, my husband scrolled through his phone, relaxed and half distracted.

My own phone vibrated once then again and again.

I didn’t need to look to know who it was. I had replied to him only once, but since then he had been messaging me continuously. Things like Did you leave from work?, What does your evening look like?, Did you have dinner? and many more.

What I didn’t understand was why I hadn’t told him to stop. That wasn’t like me.

Whenever a father crossed the line into flirting, I shut it down immediately and made it clear that my personal number was not an invitation.

But this time, I had stayed silent and sometimes silence gives a very different answer to the other person.

My husband noticed the expression on my face because he set his phone aside and turned toward me.

“Who is it?”

I hesitated, but some reckless part of me wanted to see his reaction. So I told him.

I explained about the father who had come for admission, the messages, and the fact that I still hadn’t asked him to stop.

My husband became fully attentive. “Show me.”

I handed him the phone, expecting jealousy or some anger. But he studied the messages calmly before handing the phone back to me.

“Do you like him?” he asked.

Heat rushed to my cheeks.

The honest answer was yes. But I looked away and said, “No.”

My husband smiled knowingly. “He’s your type.”

I laughed softly, embarrassed by how accurately he could read me.

“You know I don’t care about that.”

He tilted his head slightly.

“Then why haven’t you asked him to stop messaging you?”

“He’s a potential customer,” I replied quickly.

My husband held my gaze. “And since when do you worry this much about a single customer?”

I had no answer to that. So I just looked down at my phone again.

He reached for me suddenly, pulling me close before kissing me deeply. If I had expected jealousy or anger, he was offering passion instead.

He pulled his T-shirt off and lay back against the bed, then guided me on top of him. I was straddling him now, my knees on either side of his body while my short nightie rode up my thighs.

He ran his hand over his hairy muscular chest and said, “He seems to have the kind of chest you like. Minus the hairs.”

I felt embarrassed.

“Shut up,” I said, closing my eyes and leaning into him to kiss him.

As we began kissing, my nightie slowly rode higher until my wetness rubbed against his stomach.

“Oh God,” he said against my mouth. “You are wet thinking about him.”

I stopped kissing him for a second and froze. Then again I said, “Shut up.”

But before he could understand what was really going on in my mind, I pulled my nightie over and reached for his hardness, freeing him from his boxers.

He was already hard, and since my husband’s accident, he didn’t often get this ready so fast. So I positioned myself over him.

But just before I could take him inside me, he said, “Think it’s him.”

I didn’t reply, but I paused because even if he hadn’t said that, I would have been thinking about Raghav. I had imagined many men I liked while he used toy on me.

As I slowly took him inside me, I leaned down to kiss him. I began moving slowly while we kissed passionately.

I loved kissing Dev. It was the best foreplay. Just a kiss was enough to put us in the mood in the old days.

“Do you like him?” he asked again against my mouth.

I paused once more.

He caught my ass and pulled me closer, deeper against him.

“Do you like him?” he repeated.

I kissed him again, trying to stop the questions.

But he didn’t stop. “What would you do if he was under you right now?”

I stopped kissing, raise my head and looked into his eyes.

His eyes burned, but not with jealousy. The thought of me fantasising about a man who had been messaging me nonstop had ignited something inside my husband.

He opened his mouth again to say something, but I shut him up by placing my hand over his mouth. Then I removed my hand and placed them on either side of his strong chest. I closed my eyes and imagined Raghav under me, smiling with that dimple on his face.

I wondered if he would smile the same way if I made him lose control.

I started moving faster now and soon picked up the speed like I was trying to break something inside me.

"Wow! You want him so bad," Dev add more fuel to the already burning fire.

Dev words and thinking about Raghav sent waves through my body so intense that I had my first release. Then again only minutes later I had my second one.

I kept moving like that for several minutes until I felt Dev finally tighten. I knew he couldn’t hold back any longer.

He released deep inside me, while I still kept moving over him, my eyes still closed imagining a man whom I had met only today.

When he was no longer hard, I was disappointed but didn't show it. I slowly slid off him and lay beside him wanting more. I had climaxed twice, but somehow it still didn’t feel enough.

“Can you use the toy on me?” I asked, my eyes still closed.

I knew he would be surprised by the request because normally I never asked for it myself. It was usually him who used it on me ever since his performance had been affected.

When I heard his breathing move away from me, I knew he was getting it. I heard the cupboard door open and shut, and my heart jumped slightly. Then came the sound of the zip opening.

A moment later, I felt his palm against my wetness as he slowly prepared the toy. My husband knew exactly what I liked most. Instead of reaching for lubricant, he used the wetness our bodies had already created together.

While he prepared the toy, I shut my eyes tighter and saw Raghav again from his WhatsApp display picture, standing inside the swimming pool. In my mind, I was lying on a chair beside the pool naked. He slowly came out of the water naked too and walked toward me. Then he positioned himself over me and waited.

And I waited for my husband to slide the toy inside me.

The moment Dev did, I imagined it was Raghav.

I cried out at the first push itself. An intense wave ran through my body that I lost control almost immediately.

I clutched the bedsheet tightly while my breathing grew heavier and heavier. I could hear my own voice echoing softly through the room.

I kept moaning, trying hard not to take Raghav’s name while the fantasy inside my head kept pulling me deeper.

Then Dev pressed his thumb against my clit while still moving the toy inside me. The sensation felt almost heavenly, and my body completely lost control.

I saw myself lying beside the pool while Raghav was tearing into me.

And before I could stop myself, I cried out violently,

“Faster, Raghav… faster…”

I felt Dev pause for a second, but then he started moving even faster, almost like he was handing control of me completely to the man inside my head.

And all the while, I shamelessly kept taking Raghav’s name again and again, praising him for the pleasure my own husband was giving me while my body shook uncontrollably around Dev.

The pleasure hit me so hard that broken moans kept escaping my mouth between Raghav’s name.

I couldn’t even control my breathing anymore. Every movement sent another wave crashing through me until my legs started shaking uncontrollably around Dev.

It felt less like pleasure and more like my body was completely surrendering to something I had been trying to deny for long.

By the time it finally ended, I was trembling so badly that I couldn’t even open my eyes. But after realising what I had done, I immediately turned away and buried my face into the bedsheet, breathing hard while my heart pounded.

But Dev had something else in mind.

He turned me around and said, “Open your eyes, Neha.”

I did, and he looked at me like a hungry animal.

“Keep your eyes open and see how Dev takes you now.”

And before I could even realise what he had said, he buried himself deel inside me. I just had an intense climax and my body was still trembling but I couldn't stop him. Not because he would have felt bad but because I liked the way he was moving. It felt like an animal had awakened inside him after hearing his wife take another man’s name.

I locked him tightly between my legs and let him take me harder and harder until suddenly my whole body gave up control.

A sharp cry escaped my mouth making my nails dig into his back while my body shook violently beneath him.

Dev buried his face into my neck, breathing heavily as he lost control moments later with my name falling from his lips again and again.

Note:

It's purely a fiction scene. But in reality my husband and I do indulge into role play about people I know.

Here is the link to part 1.

[https://www.reddit.com/r/sexstories/s/bNQwfDsqRp\](https://www.reddit.com/r/sexstories/s/bNQwfDsqRp)

Change the title from My Husband, My Desire and him to My Husband, My Desire and Them as I have lot of things for her in mind.

PART 02:

When I shut the door behind me, my neighbour Sushma was already standing for the lift to come.

“Hello Neha, off to school?” she asked me.

I smiled and said yes.

We were almost the same age. In fact, she was two years younger than me while I was thirty-eight years old. But she looked a decade old to me. She was dressed in a loose long kurti hiding her saggy breasts and out-of-shape body. While even at this age, I still had a perfect body.

As I stepped into the lift, I caught my reflection in the mirror. It was Saturday, and I usually wore simple tops to school on weekends. But on my body, even simple clothes looked different. The fitted top hugged my 38DD breasts tightly, making them impossible to ignore. My waist still remained slim despite my age, and my round ass filled my leggings perfectly. Even younger teachers at school didn’t get the kind of attention my body attracted.

As we walked towards the parking area, Sushma kept gossiping about women in the society, but I wasn’t really listening to her. My attention was on a group of younger boys near the cricket ground who were staring at me again, especially Aaryan, the leader of the pack, barely eighteen. Every time he saw me, he would grin and shout, “Give me ball!”

The first few times, I had pretended not to understand. But the way his eyes stayed fixed on my breasts made it obvious which balls he was really asking for.

Earlier this kind of attention used to irritate me, but nowadays I secretly enjoyed it. Even if some of them were almost my son’s age, studying in boarding school.

Without realising it, I smiled to myself.

Sushma noticed immediately.

“We should bring their behaviour up in the society meeting this year,” she said.

“They are just kids,” I replied.

“Kids? Yesterday he hit the ball on my back purposely.”

“Back?”

She pointed at her ass and repeated, “Back.”

That made me smile.

“You are smiling?” she questioned.

I couldn’t tell her what I was actually thinking. That she needed a little spanking to enjoy life, and Aaryan had already provided that with a cricket ball.

“Don’t you like when they ogle at you like that?” I asked.

What I really wanted to say was that even with her body, the fact that they looked at her was a big thing.

“No,” she said firmly. “I have a daughter his age.”

I couldn’t reply to that.

“And you have a son who plays with them.”

“But he isn’t here right now, and I doubt Aaryan behaves like this when my son is around. Between, if you don’t like his behaviour, why don’t you complain to his parents?”

“What’s the use? They have only spoiled him. He is doing what he sees at home.”

“He’s just a kid. Try and ignore him.”

Sushma laughed loudly. “That boy is definitely not looking at you like a kid.”

I laughed too, said bye to Sushma, and got into my car.

As I sat in the car, I felt the outline of my panties under my thin leggings. It made me shiver remembering how Dev, my husband, had guessed I was going to meet him.

As the car slowly passed through the society gate, my thoughts were already several days behind.

I remembered the first time I saw him.

Raghav.

He had come to the school with his young son and wife to discuss admission to our daycare program. They were in their late twenties and looked like happy family.

He was younger than me by ten years but I noticed the way his eyes lingered on me while I explained the admission process. He didn’t stare openly, but it was long enough for me to understand exactly what he was thinking.

His wife had a flat sporty figure, the kind of woman who looked perfect in sportswear advertisements. And when a man suddenly sees something different from what he is used to, he cannot resist noticing.

I knew that and that made me smile.

I liked the attention he was giving me because he was exactly the kind of man who turned my head tall, broad-shouldered, and effortlessly handsome.

The sort of man who looked strong enough to take control of any woman.

His wife asked if she could see the daycare classrooms.

“Of course,” I said, turning to one of the teachers. “Could you please show them around?”

The teacher smiled and led his wife and son down the hallway.

He remained behind. There was a brief silence before he leaned against the chair opposite my desk.

“So,” he said, smiling, “how long have you been managing this business?”

“Several years,” I replied. “Long enough to know which parents ask the most questions.”

He laughed.

“And what category do I fall into?”

I looked up at him.

“Potential customer.”

“Just customer?”

His tone was playful, but his eyes held mine.

I smiled, trying to stay professional.

“That depends on whether your son gets admitted.”

He nodded slowly.

“And what about you?” he asked. “Do you always stay this calm?”

I smiled because I didn’t know what to reply to that.

He studied me for a moment, and I felt like he was trying to uncover me.

So I quickly changed the topic.

“We have lots of activities in our school.”

“Really?” he asked, sounding interested.

“Yes, like grandparents’ day, parents’ day...”

He placed his hand on the table and asked, “And what activity do you enjoy?”

My face burned. I should have asked him to stop whatever he was trying to do. But technically, he hadn’t said anything inappropriate.

So I kept my face straight and asked, “What?”

“I meant what do you like?” he asked with a smile.

I hated that smile, but I couldn’t ignore the dimple on his face and how handsome it made him look.

“Well, I’m a boring person,” I said plainly.

He smiled again like he knew exactly what his smile was doing to me. Then he lowered his voice slightly.

“Could I have your number? In case I have questions about the admission process.”

Without thinking, I gave him my personal number.

The moment I said it, I realised what I should have done. I should have given him the school’s emergency contact instead.

But it was too late.

He entered it into his phone and looked up with a smile that was unmistakably interested.

“Thank you,” he said.

His wife and son returned a moment later, and the conversation shifted back to forms, documents, and schedules.

As they prepared to leave, he looked at me once again.

“I’ll message you soon.”

The words were simple but the smile he gave me made it clear that we both understood he was talking about much more than school admission.

I inhaled sharply after he left.

One of my teachers occupied the chair he had been sitting on and asked, “Did something happen?”

I kept my face straight and acted like I didn’t know what she was talking about.

“With the father?”

“What will happen?”

She gave me a look before leaning slightly forward.

“He couldn’t take his eyes off you,” she replied.

And I knew it was true.

But I kept my face straight and said with a fake smile, “Many men can’t.”

She laughed immediately.

“When he stayed back after his wife left, I honestly thought he would ask for your number,” she said excitedly like a teenager, which she had only recently stopped being.

“And do you think I would have given it to him?” I asked firmly, even though somewhere inside I was already imagining what this encounter with the father had made my younger teachers think about me.

“Maybe,” she said teasingly.

I looked at her sharply before saying, “Back to work now,” before she could reply anything else.

As she got up looking disappointed, my phone buzzed with a message.

“Thanks for all your help.”

It was his message.

I knew I had made a mistake by sharing my number with him, and he was proving me right.

I didn’t reply to him and got busy with work.

After one hour, he sent another message. Something about Mumbai heat.

I knew he wasn’t interested in Mumbai weather conditions but the heat my body had ignited in him.

I ignored that message as well.

But while packing up to leave for home, I opened WhatsApp to ask my husband if he needed anything. And I suddenly thought that he was still a customer and I shouldn’t act rude by coming online and not replying to him.

So I replied:

“Your son will feel at home with us.”

I should have closed the chat and left after that.

But instead, I clicked on his display picture.

He was half bare inside a swimming pool and looked smoking hot.

And I kept looking at him until another message popped up from him.

“I am sure about that. I know you will treat him like your own son.”

I just kept reading that line. But something about the way he said it made my stomach feel strange.

And for the first time in a long while, I caught myself smiling alone at my phone.

Note:

It's a fiction story except I ended up giving my number to the kid's father (Thought we didn't chat like this)

Thank you confident-honey2127 for suggesting the character name.

Hope you enjoy it!!!!

I wanted to rest today so I'm working from home today. Since morning I had ample opportunities to take a nap but can't keep the phone away because of my rediit addiction.

Do you guys have a hard time too or is it just me?

Just a question, and apologies that it's not sexual like some people here might expect.

​

I know that when a man is in the mood and his partner reminds him to get condoms, most would happily walk 15 minutes to buy them. But would you put in the same effort if she needed pads?

​

I'm fortunate to be married to a man who never hesitates. This morning, I woke him up and asked him to get pads, and he simply got up and went. Later, when he stepped out for a smoke, I asked him to pick up another pack, and again, he did without a second thought.

​

Once, I asked him, "Aren't you embarrassed? What if other men think something when they see you buying pads?"

​

He just shrugged and said, "Usmein kya hai?"

​

What's been your experience with this? Would you buy pads for your partner without hesitation?

​

And before anyone suggests delivery apps, just imagine a time before they existed. Would you still go out and get them?