[This is a continuation of the story with the same name. To repeat, it is set up in India and is about an Indian housewife and her growing, intimate relationship with her father-in-law and patriarch of the family while his son is away. It is a taboo relationship, and for those who do not prefer stories of this kind nor stories set up in India and some of the prevalent customs, you may like to rethink before you decide to read. A few words in the local language had to be unavoidably inserted because of their significance but their meaning has been provided in bracket just beside them.
Once again, there is no character in the story who is underage. Also, if there is any resemblance to living characters, the fault is unintentional.
Comments are welcome even if they are critical without being indecent.]
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Sonam
A little while later, even before Sonam could recover from the sadness that filled her mind, she saw her husband turn around to face the other side and fall asleep. She could hear his soft snoring too, as if he didn't have a care in the world. At first, Sonam cried alone - not because her husband would be leaving the day following the next, but because she had expected so much that night after her long absence. And yet, it just fizzled out once again to leave her deprived and dissatisfied. After all, they had abstained from any copulation for a few months prior to child birth and later, during her postnatal convalescence. Also, Nihal her husband, had come away from her father's place the very next day after Varun was born, depriving each of them of any form of sexual relief even when actual copulation was not possible. At this moment, she was truly unfulfilled, and the lust that grew in her could not be quickly doused.
She stared at her husband's back helplessly, her mind still filled with carnal desires and the uneasy thought of facing many months more without her husband and a man, no matter how inept he was in sex. People thought that only men craved for sex, little realizing that even women had strong desires which they kept hidden, she pondered in her present stage of craving. She felt so deprived! So lonely!
Nonetheless, her thoughts were quickly broken when Varun suddenly started to cry. Yes, it was now time for him to suckle milk from his mother's breasts and Sonam got up hurriedly. She came near the crib and, uttering sweet words to her baby, picked him up and took her to bed. She had parted the soft nightie in the front and held the right cup of her bra and lowered it to free her breasts. Holding her breast near the areola, she pushed her oozing nipple inside the baby's greedy mouth. Sounds of the baby's suckling, even if these were soft, could be heard.
Sonam was content, she just brushed Varun's tiny head and the little hair on it and softly sang a lullaby. Sonam looked so very appealing, the perfect picture of a mother suckling her child, a live image of DaVinci's eternal masterpiece 'Litta Madonna'. She had wished that even Nihal would possibly want to suckle a breast and the thought had excited her, but now she knew that was an impossible wish. Her husband was completely indifferent to these things, she felt.
Shortly, with both her baby and husband asleep, Sonam also started feeling sleepy. By now, her physical desires had somewhat subsided but not entirely gone. She shrugged her shoulders, realizing that it would be best to retire for the night and catch up on sleep.
But first, she went to the attached toilet. It was really a very modern bathroom, carved in beautiful marble and a bathtub big enough to accommodate a couple. The flooring, plumbing material and appliances, soaps and fragrances were by Sonam's own standards, exquisite. Inwardly, she was happy and could not help but admire the patriarch - for it was he who would have planned and arranged this extravaganza. Inwardly,
Sonam was very happy, for she guessed that the patriarch must have kept his affectionate 'bahu' in mind when the bathroom was being readied for the young couple. It was always a nice feeling to find oneself loved in her 'sasural' (in-laws house) and worthy of getting attention.
Inside the toilet, Sonam knew that her husband was now asleep and there was full privacy in the room. She didn't bother to shut the door of the toilet. Nimbly, she lifted her nightie that revealed the curly bush covering her crotch. Her public hair was jet black and somewhat thick and, even at a distance, anyone would be able to make out the triangular dark area. She sat on the commode, her shapely legs on both sides, as she started to relieve herself.
For no specific reason, just then Sonam was swept in an unexplained uneasiness. She imagined she was being watched, that her actions inside the bathroom were privy to someone's eyes and she was overcome with a sense of shame and apprehension. But logic and reason came to her aid. How could anyone possibly watch her here. This was as enclosed and secluded that it had privacy written all over it. Her initial fear quickly left, for she knew no one would have the courage to dare do anything mischievous when the patriarch was there.
The only thing that embarrassed her now was the noise that usually accompanied in such situations. She would pee after very long intervals when her bladder was stretched to its limit and relief came about at the expense of embarrassing hissing sounds. She had an uncanny feeling and wished that she had shut the door of the toilet, because she was embarrassed when this happened in the presence of her husband too. But it was too late now, as she had already commenced emptying her bladder.
Once she had finished and had washed that area of her body she went and lay down on the bed beside her husband. Her thoughts went back to her physical needs and involuntarily, a hand went towards her vulva as she ran a finger along the slit. She liked her finger at the place, rubbing her vagina softly at first before she had inserted a finger into the wetness. She consoled herself, her need was far from satisfied. She was starving for the male phallus as she moaned and moaned. She forgot that her moans were no longer soft and that it revealed the needs of a horny housewife. Her wild imaginations took her to a different world, and she thought of the pleasures of sex that a virile and only a strong man could give her.
Without warning, a known face of a man who was just over fifty years with his rugged, rustic, broad shouldered, dark complexioned and dhoti clad manly figure, loomed in her thoughts. She wasn't even aware that she was whispering a name, a name that fired her imagination - 'Babuji, Babuji ...,' her voice certainly loud in the end till she came out of her stupor. Oh my god, what was she thinking. How shameful! She quickly admonished herself for having these wicked thoughts. How could she ever have this thought, she wondered annoyed at herself. She turned to see if her husband was asleep or had awakened by her incessant chants and moaning and was relieved when she found that he was still snoring away. Thank God!
But Sonam felt terribly ashamed to have had this crazy thought cross her mind. How could she? And how would she ever face the man the next day when she knew that this wild, horny, lustful imagination revolved around him and her?
At what point she fell asleep she didn't know, but when she awoke it was almost morning. She quickly came to the cot and picked up Varun lovingly in her bosom. On the bed, she parted the soft nightie once again and fed the nipple to her baby who hungrily suckled her milk. Soon Varun was asleep in bed and she turned and saw her husband sleeping peacefully. She kissed him on his lips.
"Get up, get up ... it's already morning," Sonam said.
"Aw, Sonam, let me sleep sometime more," Nihal appealed lazily.
But soon they were up and getting ready. During her bath Sonam recollected the events of the previous night and blushed when she remembered how she had thought about someone else. But, like previously, she quickly pushed the thought away.
