r/indiaSexStories

Last night my neighbor came over for dinner. One thing led to another, we had a couple drinks, started making out, and before I knew it I had her thick thighs spread on my couch. She’s a little chubby with a big soft bush and her pussy was so fucking warm and wet.
Eating her was honestly one of the best things I’ve done in a while. The second my tongue touched her she started moaning but also kept trying to push my head away like she was embarrassed. Her hands were pulling me in one second and pushing me back the next. Her legs were shaking like crazy. I could tell she was getting close and I was dying for her to just let go and squirt all over my face and tongue, but she kept stopping herself and saying “no, no, it’s too much” while being all shy about it.

I didn’t want to make her uncomfortable so I backed off, but fuck… I really wanted her to sit on my face and just drown me in it. Even now I can’t stop thinking about her thick thighs wrapped around my head while she loses control and soaks my mouth.

It’s not the first time this has happened either. Some women will suck dick like they’re starving for it, get all nasty and wild, but the moment you go down on them they suddenly get all shy and hesitant. Like they secretly want it but their brain won’t let them fully enjoy it.

Honestly I never thought I'd crossed that line. Hi everyone, I'm 26M, living together with my 24F girlfriend in an apartment. As both of us are busy with our work, we decided to hire a maid to do the household chores. And that's when things began to start.

My maid is 32F, dusky skin tone, medium height, long hair always faintly smelled of coconut oil and sweat and ... OMG what a curvy body. A perfect hourglass shape! And always a smile on her face. She's married and is a mother of 2 kids; one of them is just 3 months old.

It's been a month since she started working in our apartment. There wasn't any issues at the beginning as she is greatly punctual to her work but recently I've started to notice a strange thing. Whenever she comes inside my room to sweep or mop the floor she keeps her pallu down. I thought it must be my overthinking but from the last week onwards it has become a pattern. She knocks my room, comes inside, mops the floor keeping her pallu down just the level where I can see her deep cleavage clearly, where drops of sweat glisten like pearls. Naturally my eyes go there. Sometimes our eyes met and she'd just give me a smile and continue her work.

Now since last week my girlfriend has been away for her work and I'm stuck in this apartment alone (WFH), so ig my maid is taking advantage of it. "Then why not me? What's stopping me from taking advantage of this situation!" I asked myself.

It all happened yesterday. All of a sudden. I was sitting on my sofa, video calling my gf. She was nude on video call which made me hard and my boner was clearly visible through my shorts. After my call ended, I thought to head to the bathroom to jerk off so I stood up. And fuck, that was the moment she entered my room. My maid. She was wearing a pink saree with a purple blouse beneath it. Fuck she looked like the perfect fucktoy I needed for that moment! "Sahab, jhadu laga du kya?" She asked normally. "Haa jhadu pocha dono hi kardo. Jaldi." She took the broom in her hand and bend forward to sweep the floor. And today her pallu completely dropped! I could clearly see two brown melons pushed upward due to the pressure from her thigh; struggling to escape from the purple cage. Like it could tear at any moment. And a sweat-coconut oil smell as usual is running through my nose making me more horny. All this shit is happening just in front of me, me being a spectator for the instant while in my mind I'm prepared to play the role of the protagonist now!

[ Shall I continue this story into a part 2? If I get good response I'll continue to write the later half of the confession. Enjoy for the time being and give your feedback folks! ]

My story drafted into a proper narrative using AI..

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The first time I saw Kavitha, she was a streak of muted green against the white marble floor of my new apartment. She moved with an efficiency that was almost painful to watch, her slender body bending and stretching as she wiped, her saree pallu neatly tucked at her waist. I’d hired her through an agency, a ‘maid-cum-cook’ for my bachelor pad in Adyar. The file said she was thirty-eight. She looked both younger and older all at once—a youthful leanness to her limbs, but a tiredness in her eyes that spoke of years.

“Vanakkam, sir,” she said, her voice soft, not meeting my eyes. Her hands were clasped, a simple bindi on her forehead.

“Vanakkam. Kavitha, right?”

She nodded. “I will come morning nine to twelve, sir. Cooking, cleaning, vessels.”

“Fine.”

That was it. For the first few weeks, she was a ghost. She’d arrive exactly at nine, let herself in with the key I’d provided, and for three hours, the apartment would hum with the sound of swishing water, the sizzle of tempering, the soft thud of her chappals. She spoke only when necessary. “Sir, where keep this?” “Sir, today vegetable curry okay?” Her answers to my casual questions were monosyllabic. Yes, sir. No, sir. Two daughters. College. Husband… driver.

I began to watch her. Not creepily, at first. Just… she was a presence. A strangely compelling one. In the harsh Chennai morning light streaming through the balcony, I could see the map of her life on her body. The saree, usually a simple cotton green or blue, draped over sharp hips. When she stretched to wipe a high window, the fabric would pull tight across her flat, taut stomach. The pallu would slip, and I’d catch a glimpse of her midriff, the skin smooth and stretched over a ribcage that was just a bit too visible. She was lean, almost gaunt, but with a feminine definition that starvation couldn’t erase—those hips flaring out from a narrow waist.

One day, she was scrubbing the kitchen floor on her hands and knees. Her saree was hitched up, and I saw the back of her calves, the tendons standing out, the delicate bones of her ankles. And her arms… as she scrubbed, the veins on her forearms and the backs of her hands pushed against her skin, a network of delicate blue and green rivers. There was a stark vulnerability to it. This was a woman who worked hard, whose body showed the effort. It stirred something in me that was more than pity. It was a possessive curiosity.

The seduction started not with a grand gesture, but with a glass of water.

It was a blistering April afternoon. The AC in the living room was fighting a losing battle. She came out of the kitchen, wiping sweat from her brow with the edge of her pallu. Her face was flushed, hair sticking to her temples.

“Kavitha, take a break. Have some water,” I said, pointing to the water filter.

She hesitated. “It’s okay, sir. I finish vessels.”

“I’m telling you to take a break. Come on.”

Reluctantly, she poured herself a steel glass of water and stood near the kitchen doorway, drinking in small, quick sips. I was sitting on the sofa, laptop open, pretending to work.

“Your daughters… what are they studying?”

A flicker in her tired eyes. Pride, maybe. “First daughter, B.Com final year in Ethiraj. Second daughter, B.Sc Computer Science first year in Anna University.”

“Smart girls. You must be proud.”

She nodded, a small, fragile smile touching her lips. It transformed her face. The tiredness receded for a second, revealing a beauty that was worn but not erased. High cheekbones, full lips.

“Must be expensive. College fees, hostels…”

The smile vanished. She looked into her glass. “We manage, sir.”

“Your husband… he’s a driver?”

Her posture stiffened. “Yes, sir.”

I didn’t push. But I filed away the reaction. That evening, after she left, I heard raised voices from the service staircase. A man’s voice, slurred and angry. Her voice, pleading and low. I didn’t interfere. But I listened. The pieces fit together. A drunk husband. A woman bearing the financial and emotional weight.

My ‘kindness’ became strategic. I started paying her a thousand rupees extra at the end of the month, in an envelope. “For the excellent work,” I’d say. She’d protest, but the need in her eyes was stronger. I’d ‘accidentally’ leave new sarees, simple but nice ones, on the dining table with a note: “My mother sent these, they don’t fit her. Please use.” I saw her wearing one a week later, a deep maroon that made her skin glow. I complimented her. “That colour suits you, Kavitha.” She blushed, a deep red creeping up her neck, and muttered a thanks.

The barrier of ‘sir’ began to thin. I asked her to call me by my name, Arjun. It took weeks, but she started, stammering at first. “Arjun… sir.” Then just “Arjun.”

I created moments of proximity. Asking her to show me how she made a particular curry, standing close behind her in the kitchen, my breath on her neck. She’d freeze, then continue, her movements becoming jerky. I’d ‘help’ her move a heavy pot, my hand covering hers. The first time I touched her skin intentionally, it was under the guise of checking a burn. She’d touched a hot pan.

“Let me see,” I said, taking her hand. It was small, rough from work, the veins prominent. The burn was minor. I led her to the sink, ran cool water over her fingers. My thumb stroked her wrist. She was trembling. “You need to be careful,” I said, my voice low. She didn’t pull away. Her eyes were wide, locked on our joined hands.

The emotional entanglement was the masterstroke. I became her confidant, or pretended to. I’d talk about my own ‘loneliness’, my failed relationships. I’d ask about her dreams. One rainy day, when the power was out and we sat in the dim living room with candles, she opened up. The husband drank his salary. He was suspicious, violent in his words, sometimes his hands. She stayed for the girls, for the sake of society. She had wanted to be a teacher. Her voice broke.

I moved to the floor beside her chair. I didn’t touch her. I just listened. Then I said, “You deserve so much more, Kavitha. You’re a beautiful, strong woman. You deserve to be… cherished.”

She cried then, silent tears streaking her cheeks. I handed her a tissue, my fingers brushing her cheek. She leaned into the touch, just for a second. That was the crack. I had wedged myself into her lonely, tired heart.

The first kiss happened in that same dim living room a week later. She was telling me about her younger daughter’s exam results. I was standing close. I reached out, tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. She stopped talking, her lips parted. I leaned in slowly, giving her every chance to pull back. She didn’t. Our lips met—a soft, tentative touch. She tasted of tea and loneliness. A small sound escaped her throat, a whimper of surrender and guilt. When I pulled back, her eyes were closed, tears clinging to her lashes.

“I shouldn’t…” she whispered.

“I know,” I said, and kissed her again, deeper this time. My tongue traced her lips, and she opened for me. Her hands came up, fluttered against my chest, then settled there, not pushing away, but holding on. Her body, so lean and tense, pressed against mine. I could feel every bone, every curve through the thin cotton of her saree and my shirt. My hands slid down her back, over the sharp wings of her shoulder blades, down to the dramatic flare of her hips. I gripped them, pulling her closer, letting her feel my erection against her flat stomach. She gasped into my mouth but pressed closer.

It was a fever after that. The ‘seduction’ was complete. She was in love, or something she mistook for love—a heady mix of gratitude, attention, and raw, awakened physical need. We were careful, paranoid. Her hours were my hours. The world outside ceased to exist.

The first time I took her to my bed, she was trembling like a leaf. It was a Thursday morning. The apartment was clean, the doors locked. Sunlight poured in.

“I’ve never… with anyone else,” she whispered, as I slowly unwound her saree. The pallu came off first, then the pleats. She stood in her petticoat and blouse, her arms wrapped around herself. Her skin was the colour of warm honey, stretched tight over her frame. I could see her ribs, the hollow of her throat. Her collarbones were sharp ledges.

“Shhh,” I said, unbuttoning her blouse. It was a simple front-hook blouse. It came apart, revealing a simple, well-worn bra. I undid that too.

Her breasts were small, pert, fitting perfectly in my palms. They were high, with large, dark brown areolae that puckered immediately in the cool air. Her nipples were a deeper brown, erect and sensitive. I bent my head and took one in my mouth. She cried out, her hands flying to my hair, not to pull me away, but to hold me there. Her back arched, pushing more of herself into my mouth. She was incredibly responsive, every touch electric.

I led her to the bed, laid her down. I removed her petticoat, then her plain cotton panties. She tried to close her legs, a reflex of modesty, but I gently pushed them apart.

She was completely bare, shaved clean—a common practice, I later learned. And she was exquisite. Her body was a landscape of lean muscle and subtle feminine curves. Her stomach was concave, a gentle dip below her ribcage leading to the sharp V of her hip bones. Her mound was smooth, her lips small and neat, already glistening with her arousal. The veins on her inner thighs were visible, a delicate tracery.

I worshipped her with my mouth and hands, learning what made her gasp, what made her thighs clamp around my head, what made her chant my name like a prayer. She came with a silent, shuddering intensity, her whole body seizing up, her hands fisting the sheets.

When I entered her, she was wet and tight. She winced, a brief flash of pain crossing her face. She was small, incredibly so. I went slow, letting her adjust, kissing her tears away. “Relax, my beautiful Kavitha,” I murmured. “Take me.”

And she did. Slowly, then with growing hunger. Her legs, thin but strong, wrapped around my waist. Her hips began to move, tentatively at first, then with a rhythm that was instinctively primal. She met my thrusts, her sharp hips lifting. The sound of our skin slapping together, her soft cries, the creak of the bed—it was the most erotic symphony. She came again as I filled her, her inner walls milking me, pulling my release deep into her.

Afterward, she wept, guilt and pleasure mingled. I held her, stroking her hair, whispering promises I had no intention of keeping. But in that moment, I meant them. She was mine.

That became our ritual. Three hours of frantic, desperate coupling every weekday. We fucked everywhere—the bed, the sofa, the kitchen counter, against the balcony door (with the curtains drawn). Her shyness evaporated, replaced by a desperate, hungry sexuality. She loved being taken from behind, her lean back arched, her head pressed into the mattress, her prominent hip bones digging into my thighs as I pounded into her. She loved when I lifted her slight frame easily and pinned her against the wall, her legs around me, as I drove into her. She’d cling to me, her face buried in my neck, whispering “Arjun, Arjun, en Arjun” (my Arjun).

I was obsessed with her body—its leanness, its visible signs of life and toil. I’d trace the blue veins on her breasts with my tongue, suck on them until they darkened. I’d bite gently on her hip bones, leaving marks she’d fret about but secretly loved. I’d spend hours between her legs, making her come until she was sobbing and begging me to stop, only to beg for more a minute later.

The idea of getting her pregnant wasn’t initially a plan. It was a dark, thrilling fantasy that took root during one of our sessions. I was taking her from behind, my hand splayed over her flat, tense stomach, feeling my own movements deep inside her. I imagined it rounded, swollen with my child. The thought made me thrust harder, possessively. She screamed my name.

Later, as she lay spent, I whispered it against her ear. “What if you had my baby, Kavitha?”

She went rigid. “No… impossible. My husband… he… we don’t… it’s been years. And I’m careful with my… dates.”

“But what if?” I persisted, my hand stroking her stomach. “What if I put a baby in this perfect, flat stomach? Made it round and full with my child?”

She was silent for a long time. Then, so softly I barely heard, “It would be beautiful. But it would be a sin. A dangerous sin.”

That was all the encouragement I needed. The sin, the danger, made it more intoxicating. I stopped letting her clean up immediately. I’d keep her lying down, legs up, my seed pooling inside her. I’d whisper, “Kavitha. Grow my baby.” She’d moan, a sound of terror and illicit pleasure.

It took three months. She missed her period. The fear in her eyes was palpable when she told me, her hands shaking as she made my coffee.

“I’m late.”

I pulled her onto my lap right there at the dining table. “Good,” I said, kissing her neck. I was hard already. “That’s very good.”

“Arjun, what will I do? My husband… he’ll know it’s not his! He’ll kill me, or throw me out!”

“Shhh,” I soothed, my hand slipping under her saree, finding her wet despite her fear. “He’s drunk every night. You’ll tell him you’re pregnant. He’ll be too confused, too proud maybe, to question the timing. You’ll manage him. You’re strong. And you have me.”

She managed the husband. As predicted, the drunk fool was initially confused, then strangely proud. A late-life child, a son perhaps! He became marginally less abusive, in a patronizing way. The community congratulated them. Kavitha played her part perfectly—the weary, happy, older expecting mother. Only I saw the shadows under her eyes, the constant anxiety.

But with me, in our stolen hours, she bloomed. The pregnancy changed her body slowly. The first thing to go was the stark concavity of her stomach. It softened, then began a gentle, firm swell. Her breasts grew fuller, heavier, the brown areolae darkening even more, the veins on them becoming more pronounced, a roadmap of life. She was still lean everywhere else—her arms, her face, her back. But her hips seemed to widen slightly, making her waist look even more snatched in comparison.

Our sex became even more intense, charged with the taboo of her condition. I was insatiable. The first time I fucked her knowing she was carrying my child, about two months in, was transcendental. She was on her back, a pillow under her hips. Her small bump was just a faint curve. I kissed it reverently before spreading her legs.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” I murmured, entering her slowly. She was incredibly sensitive, her cervix already changing, making her gasp with a new kind of pleasure-pain. I fucked her with a slow, deep, possessive rhythm, my eyes locked on that tiny swell where my child grew. She came over and over, her pregnant body shuddering with shocks of pleasure so intense she’d black out for seconds.

As her pregnancy progressed to six months, our encounters evolved. Her bump was now a proper, modest dome, stretching the fabric of her saree in a soft, beautiful curve. She was tired often, the tiredness I’d seen before now deepened by the physical strain. But her desire for me only grew, a hungry, hormonal need.

Today, she is six months along. She arrives, her movements slower, more careful. Her face is drawn, but her eyes light up when she sees me. The green saree she wears is draped lower today, to accommodate the bump, the pallu loosely thrown over her shoulder. It exposes the side of her hip, that sharp, defined bone I love to bite, and a strip of her stretched midriff. The veins on her arms and the backs of her hands are like delicate cords. She looks exhausted and utterly erotic.

“You look tired,” I say, walking up to her. I don’t ask about the husband, the daughters. That world is outside.

“The baby was moving all night,” she says, a soft smile touching her lips. She takes my hand and places it on her bump. Through the thin cotton, I feel a hard kick, a roll. A jolt of pure, primal possession shoots through me.

That’s all the invitation I need. I lead her not to the bedroom, but to the large, plush sofa. I sit down and pull her onto my lap, straddling me. Her bump sits between us, a firm, warm barrier. I unwind her saree slowly, kissing each new inch of skin revealed. Her belly is taut and smooth, a perfect globe with a dark line running down from her navel. I lick along that line, and she shudders.

I unbutton her blouse, now a larger size. Her breasts have swollen beautifully, heavy and veined, the areolae almost chocolate brown, the nipples large and erect. I take one in my mouth, suckling gently, and a drop of sweet, thin colostrum beads on my tongue. The taste of her motherhood drives me wild.

She grinds against my erection, still trapped in my pants. “Please… now…”

I help her out of her petticoat and panties. She’s wet, always wet for me now. I free myself and guide her down onto me. She sinks slowly, her head thrown back, a long moan tearing from her throat. She is so deep, so incredibly full. The changed anatomy of her pregnancy means I hit places that make her see stars.

She rides me with a slow, grinding rhythm, her hands braced on my shoulders, her pregnant belly pressed against my chest. I can feel the baby move between us, a surreal, intimate detail. I suck on her neck, bite her collarbone, my hands gripping her wide, strong hips, helping her move.

“Yes!” she cries, her pace increasing.

Her orgasm builds slowly, a tidal wave. Her inner walls clamp down on me in rhythmic pulses. She screams, her body convulsing, milk leaking from her breasts. The sight and feel of her coming while heavily pregnant with my child is the most powerful aphrodisiac. I flip her over onto her hands and knees on the sofa, her beautiful round ass in the air, her bump hanging beneath her. I plunge into her from behind, one hand on her hip, the other splayed possessively over her belly.

This is our favourite position now. It allows deep penetration, and she loves the feel of my balls slapping against her clit. I fuck her hard and fast, the sofa creaking in protest. Her cries are raw, unfiltered.

“I’m going to fill you up again, Kavitha,” I grunt.

“Yes! Give it! I want it!” she sobs, pushing back against me wildly.

My release is volcanic, pumping into her depths, claiming her all over again. I collapse over her, careful of her bump, my body covering hers. We stay like that, connected, panting, as the baby kicks against me, a tiny fist or foot protesting the disturbance.

Later, we lie tangled on the sofa. I trace the veins on her breast, the curve of her stomach. She is asleep, an exhausted, peaceful smile on her face. The green saree is pooled on the floor. Her body, lean and veined and heavily pregnant, is a testament to our forbidden passion.

And I have no intention of stopping. Tomorrow, when she comes at nine, I will take her again. Against the wall, on the floor, in the shower. I will worship her pregnant body, fuck her until she screams, and fill her with my seed, over and over. The transformation of her body is my doing. And I will watch it, possess it, until the very end.

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Looking forward for your comments..

Finally i managed to have sex with my mom. Yesterday when she was scrolling reels on bed. I sat beside her and offered her for leg massage. She agreed. I began massaging her legs. She was still watching reels and was so engaged into that she didn't get to know that I spit on foot while massaging. Anyways i kept massaging her thighs. Then I intentionally hover my hand on her pussy. Her pussy was shaved. She smirked. It was tickling her. Few minutes later I showed her an porn video. Asked her if we could do it or not. She disagreed telling that this is wrong for our culture and also I am your mother and stuff like that.

I still told her incest stories of mom and son sex to convince her. It took me around 25 to 30 minutes to convince her FINALLY !

She then agreed but told me to do it as slow as possible and make sure not to cum inside her. Also she told she will close her eyes until I finish fucking her. This how I managed to have sex with my lovely mom ❤️ I will always love her no matter what ❤️‍🩹

Friends wife hitting on hubby in fromt of me

So, we went for dinner at this place in city with my husband’s friend and his wife, Arya (name chngd ofc). The whole night, Arya was being super extra. She was wearing this sleeveless blouse and kept leaning over the table, almost touching hubbys hand every time she laughed. She kept saying things like, "Mayank, you’ve changed so much, you look so hot now." She was basically eye-f\*\*\*ing him the whole time.
Mayank was trying to be polite, but I could tell he was feeling the heat. It actually made me feel really powerful knowing she wanted him but he was coming home with me.
As soon as we reached home, I didn't even let him take off his shoes. I pushed him onto the bed and said, "Arya was dying to touch you tonight, wasn't she?"
He got the hint immediately. We rp as Arya and Mayank and had an amazing one.

My FWB …an air hostess…we often used to go on the hills nearby(morni) its quite private and safe.
This time we went in the morning…i skipped classes and we went to the hills on my activa. It was fun but late i felt her hands slipping in my tee and feeling my upper body..the contact of her skin with mine gave me chills and we were quite into each other….. this time she was teasing me….she slid her hands into my pants and there i was super hard….she whispered in my ear “good boi” and i was already ready to go….she was fondeling with me and her breath near my ears was tempting…we usually go to our spot down in the jungle where we fuck normally…this time we went there I wanted to finger her…i slid her underwear down and she was already dripping…she wore a sundress so it was an easy access for me…i started playing with but this time her insides feld a lil hard and like they wanted to let loose…I told her to “let it all go” and believe it or not , the moment i said that… she squirted all over. Oh the feeling was accomplishing….that done she grabbed me and started pulling me towards her her hands went down and so did she…the moment the warmth of her mouth touched my dick…i knew today was gonna be fun….long story short i bent her over on my activa…rolled on a condom and railed her…
Later we went further up to a water fall..were tekking and she fell into the water..she was without an underwear and it was fun to watch. We found a stone under the waterfall and decided to sit there…she was horny …spit on her hand rubbed it on my dick and sat on it raw…ahh that felt unreal…moments later i flipped her and was now recording and fucking her raw on the stone…and finally we both came and i was deep in her..she was dripping with my cum and suddenly a group of trekkers spotted us…luckily we escaped but throughout the way she was dripping with my cum and was naked down there…its was soo fun…..but ah now shes away and i get flashbacks…miss that…hope to do it again someday

I’m honestly still processing what happened last night. My wife spent the last 6 months staying with her parents after second baby, and it’s been few weeks she is back to me.

This past weekend we finally got the kids to sleep early. I expected a movie and maybe some cuddling. Instead, she just stood up, stripped completely naked, and looked at me like she wanted to eat me alive. I have never seen her this aggressive in the 8 years we have been together. She was all over me instantly—biting my lip, scratching the hell out of my back, and literally ripping my clothes off.

She was already soaking wet before I even touched her. When I started going down on her and moved up to her tits, things got wild. She’s still lactating, and the second I started sucking and squeezing, warm milk started spraying everywhere.

I grabbed her by the hair, pulled her head back so she was arched perfectly, and just went to suck both nipples. I was greedy, sucking every drop of warm milk out of her while she was let out these deep moans I’ve never heard from her before. The sight of her milk all over my face while she was thrashing underneath me was the hottest thing I’ve ever felt.

She eventually lost it, grabbed my dick, and basically forced me inside her. We fucked like absolute animals. She didn't want anything gentle—she wanted it rough. And i was rough. When I was close, she wrapped her legs around my neck and screamed at me to cum inside her.

I’m exhausted today, but holy shit. I don't know if it’s the hormones or the time apart, but she has turned into a total nympho and I am not complaining. Anyone else experience this "switch" flipping after the second kid? Because I feel like I'm married to a different woman now.

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So I sometimes write erotica and this is from an deleted account of mine.

It's not typical roleplay post so you may find it unusual .

Ignore the grammatical mistakes .

The plot have a complete scene described below .

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' Ria , hurry up , how much time will you take in there ? They would be coming anytime now , it's already O'clock . ' Ria's mom ( Shashi ) called her out while arranging the bed sheets of Ria and making her room look clean and tidy . After all it's a special day for Ria and family .

' Yeah , yeah , just a few more minutes ' Ria replied as she switched off the tap , so the voice would be clear to hear for her mom . And then switched the tap open again .

' Hurry up , it's been almost an hour since you are bathing . What's taking you so long ? ' Her mom asked her .

' He isn't going to marry you today itself ' , she chuckled and teased her daughter , getting close to her washroom's door and giving it a gentle knock as a reminder to be quick of 'whatever she is doing inside' .

' Mummyyyyy....... ' Ria was embarrassed hearing her mom tease her , but she has to be quick now . It's already an hour and she hasn't even started showering by now .

Meanwhile as Ria heard the footsteps of her mom walking away , she continued her activity of pleasure , wishing for no further interruptions ahead .

She moved her vibrator wand up and down from her left hand , stimulating her clitoris above her mound , while spreading her pussy lips apart and inserting her middle finger of other hand . She moved her fingers back and forth as she arched her body laying on the floor , letting out gentle moans . She couldn't be loud enough for someone to hear anything , so the tap was running slow to suppress the noises of her pleasurable activities .

Shashi went downstairs for her kitchen works and to check on the food  getting cooked . She is quite busy today , making the house presentable and clean and tidy for the guests . This is going to be the first marriage prospect for Ria who is coming to meet their family face to face .

Ria(23) is still a very young girl and her parents had no intentions of marrying her this early . But the guy who's parents proposed for marriage is too good to let go , as per all the members of Ria's family , especially Ria's elder sister ' Akansha ' . Akansha persuaded her mom , dad and others for this prospect and rishta .As per her ' Rahul (28)' ( the boy for Ria ) is well educated , settled , young and have all the good qualities for her sister . She knows about Rahul's family and have met them on many occasions along with Rahul , as Rahul's family knew Daksh( Akansha's husband ) very well .

Ria now comes out of her washroom completing her bath and morning ritual of pleasure , she sits on her bed , drying her wet body using towel . She was a bit nervous as it's her first time meeting someone for potential relationship. She has never been into any serious relationship, she is pretty and even got proposals from boys but she wasn't interested and ready to go ahead with it . She had all her life ahead  but didn't know that she'll land a marriage proposal this early .

As she was lost in her thoughts , her mom screamed her name from downstairs , asking her to come down and help her . Ria got alarmed by her mother's voice and came back to her senses . Her vibrator was placed beside her on her bed too . She kept it in there to dry under the fan but had to put it in the drawer as soon as she heard her mom calling her name .

Usually she keeps her vibrator in a box wrapped with black polythene in the drawer but in haste she just threw it inside the drawer and closed it .

Ria went downstairs and saw her mom busy in the kitchen . She went close to her mom to look at what's she doing .

' You haven't dressed up yet ? ' Shashi asked her with widened eyes , seeing her daughter in just top and shorts .

' I just got out of the shower ' Ria said as a excuse .

' Ria it's already time . They will be here anytime by now . Go and get dressed quickly ' - Shashi

' ughhh hh ' - Ria sighed and started to get back to her room when they heard the main gate opening .

Ria got closer to the window to see who's there . It was her father along with her elder sister and her jiju ( brother in law ) . His father went to the station to pick them up .

They all got down of the car as Ria opened the door of their house . Shashi too came out of the kitchen to receive them . Ria ran greet her jiju as soon as he got down from the car .

' Jijuuuuu...... ' Ria screamed with joy as she ran and hug daksh .

Daksh too opened his arms and hugged her back . His father looked at them smiling and started unloading the luggage from car .

' Ohhh Jiju lover , I'm here too . No welcoming for me ?? ' Akansha taunted to Ria, giving them a side look .

' Yeah yeah , here's a hug for you too . And a kiss-ie as well ' as Ria placed a peck on her sister's cheek and they started giggling .

Meanwhile Shashi welcomed them inside while asking how was their journey from Daksh . She asked Akansha and Daksh to get freshened up as she headed for the kitchen .  Ria entered the kitchen to have some water as well and while drinking she saw her mom giving her a look .

' What .... ? '' Ria asked her mom

' You should've touched Daksh's feet Ria . When will you learn such etiquettes ? ' - Shashi

' We are casual with each other mummy ' - Ria

' And what about this dressing ?  You went to greet your jiju wearing shorts and this .... ' Shashi pointed out Ria's top . Ria wasn't wearing any bra inside her top , so the pokies and jiggling was very visual .

' Mummyyy..... yaar... ' Ria's voice had a complaining tone along with her body language .

' Now don't complain , guests will be there anytime now . You need to learn these manners . Go get dressed now , and wear that blue saree of yours today ' - Shashi directed Ria .

' What's cooking , ohh kheer , my favourite ?? ' Akansha said as she entered the kitchen .

' Akansha , go and help Ria draping her Saree ' - Shashi instructed akansha , as she got busy with her cooking .

Both Akansha and Ria started to go upstairs giggling and talking .

They reached Ria's room and akansha asked Ria to bring her blue saree , as mom wants her to wear it today .

Ria pouted and made a face , ' but I wanted to wear something different today ' .

'What do u wanna wear ? ' akansha asked

Ria opened her wardrobe and brought out a black saree . ' this one ' she said smiling.

The saree was a net saree , and a bit translucent . It had shining material in it and was much more like a saree to be worn at functions and events .

' No , no , a strict no ' - akansha

' You can't wear it right now Ria , they are bringing rishta, you need to look simple and elegant actually . ' akansha said to her sister .

Even unwillingly she started to get ready , and accepted that it's just for few hours . Her mind was busy thinking about all this and it's hard for her to process that , it's happening in real . Just a few days ago she passed out from her college and was now thinking of doing masters or taking up some hobby and explore her life .

Lost in her thoughts she locked her room and started to undress herself  . Akansha was busy picking matching blouse and peticoat for Ria's saree .

She turned towards Ria to give her saree and saw Ria topless , opening her shorts .

' Wow Ria, you are growing ' akansha said .

Ria looked towards her , still lost a bit in her thoughts , and couldn't understand what her sister really meant by that .

Akansha places her palms on her tits to give them a little lift them up and down , as a gesture to what she meant .

Ria smiled while being topless and sitting at the edge of the bed . ' I guess my hormones are doing overtime now ' Ria said .

' Is it hormones or some guys , whom I don't know about ?? ' akansha said as she gave Ria her saree with a teasing tone .

' Ohh I wish I was that lucky . Or maybe as lucky as you , to find someone like jiju , obsessed with me . But unfortunately it's just my hands till now '  Ria replied.

Akansha just smiled and gave a little tap on Ria's head .

' Get ready now ' .

' By the way you are looking good too . I can see you have gained some weights at the right places too . And these under eye dark circles ,,...... Uffffff ' Ria laughed saying this .

' You'll get slapped now , haha .... ' akansha can't control her laughter as well , while threatening her sister .

' Jiju can't keep his hands away from you , he can't control himself ..... ' Ria was teasing her sister .

' O bacchuu , you'll experience that too soon . Don't be so happy and teasing . - Akansha

' Here , take a look . ' akansha flashed her phone's screen in Ria's face . Ria got confused and asked as a reflex  ' who's this ?? ' .

There was a good looking guy on the screen , tall , wheatish , defined jawline , subtle beard , black shiny hairs  with athletic build .

' Maybe your future hubby ' said by akansha to Ria's question .

' ?????..... ' was Ria's expression.

' Arey , it's Rahul ' akansha said .

Ria took a look again and gave her phone back , while going to the dressing table and started doing her hairs .

' Give this to me ' akansha said while taking away the comb from Ria's hands . While giving Ria her mobile while Rahul's instagram profile opened up.

' take a look . ' Akansha

Ria held her sister's phone , while taking a look at his profile , scrolling up and down .

' Is he a doctor ' Ria asked

' yeah ' - akansha .

She scrolled through Rahul's profile . He looked a well dressed guy , which being a doctor he obviously was . He was handsome and Ria noticed it too . There were few gym pics in his stories as well . She opened them up and not to lie , but she was impressed by his physique . Being a doctor , he was giving some gentlemanly vibe to her , like what she reads on her Wattpad stories .

Unlike earlier when she thought it would be an uncle type prospect but it wasn't . Things happened so fast that she didn't get a chance to see even his picture .

She paused one of his gym stories and was lost on it , until Akansha cleared her throat 'ummmm hmmm ' , which brought Ria back to her senses .

' You like what you are seeing ?? ' akansha asked .

' yeah , he looks ok . '  Ria tried to act like she wasn't that lost and not that interested .

' ohh I thought , you were counting his abs by pausing it for so long , lol ' she smiled and teased .

Ria's hair was done and she started putting up her makeup now .

' he does look good ' Ria admitted .

' he's a good guy Ria. Believe me you'll be thanking me forever after meeting him . But we are not going to force you . It's all up to you , if you wanna go forward with him or now . You guys can date after this and decide , we aren't in that hurry to be honest . And mummy - papa have agreed for dating as well ' - akansha Said

Akansha's marriage itself was a love marriage and their parents are open and understanding enough to allow their daughters to choose their own partners.

Ria was staring at herself in the mirror , blankly.

' You are looking so beautiful ' akansha said while applying kajal on Ria's forehead .

But Ria was still silent .

To break some ice and lighten the mood she said ' Btw you do know , what good abs mean ?? ''

Both burst out in laughter hearing that .

' No I don't , you tell me . You have much more experience than me  . ' Ria said acting innocent .

' Well it means , your future dark circles are uploading too ' while she pointed at her dark circles .

' mhhmm hmmm , I didn't know , jiju got those abs.  From outside his dress , its tough to tell ' Ria said

' Ohh yeah , he's good build but not as shredded as Rahul ' akansha replied.

' Do daksh jiju have abs ?? ' Ria asked eagerly

' No he doesn't , but my gym trainer does '  Akansha blurted out .

Ria's mouth opened up after  listening to it and she gasped for some air , ' Reallyyyyy ..... ' she said it out loud.

' shh shh ' akansha gestured to her , ' I didn't mean that ' she explained herself ....

Ria looked at akansha's face for a few seconds and said , you liar ... Tell me about it . ' Are u cheating ????.... '

'. No Ria it's not like that . ' Akansha tried to calm her down . She was frustrated with herself that why did she say it .

Ria was less angry and more curious to know it now and she was looking towards Akansha for a answer with a sly smile .

' Hey , are you guys ready . What's taking you two so long ? ' as they heard a knock on their door . Outside it was Daksh , knocking at the door .

' yeah , we are coming ' akansha replied .

' We are almost done jiju , just 2 more minutes ' Ria added up .

' You have to tell me ' Ria was too curious now . And asked her didi about it.

' I tell you about it later , not now ' akansha tried to postpone it .

' You promise ???  ' Ria asked

' okk , promise ' akansha ..

' hey what are you guys murmuring inside ?? ... They are here already . Hurry up ... ' daksh said from outside their door .

Yeah , yeah we are done jiju - Ria said as she walked towards the door to open it up .

She opened the door and daksh saw her .

' Wowww , sali sahiba . You look so pretty '  daksh said

' Awww thank you jiju , you are the best ' Ria said while hugging him , placing her head on his chest and looking at akansha .

Daksh wrapped his arms around Ria as response too

' Don't you think you choosed the wrong sister among us jiju ?? ' Ria flirted with daksh while maintained eye contact with akansha .

Daksh laughed and looked towards Akansha , ' I think I shouldn't be in that hurry . ' as he flirted back .

' You bitchh.... ' akansha made a lip sync  , without any voice while looking at her sister .

' we should go downstairs now , mom is calling me . ' akansha said as they started going downstairs .

' you guys go ahead I'm just gonna use restroom a bit ' daksh said as Ria and akansha proceeded to go down ...

End of part 1