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This is the third chapter of the story with the same title. It is about an Indian housewife and her intimate physical relationship with her father-in-law. As the readers might have seen in the previous chapters, there has been a growing attraction between both the principal characters. However, till now, they haven't overtly expressed their deeper and more amorous feelings for one another. But the opportunities now open out, desires and hunger surface in different degrees between them, expressions become more brazen and erotic, and as this chapter unfolds, their suppressed feelings are explicitly explored.
As mentioned earlier too, it is a taboo relationship, and for those who do not prefer stories of this kind nor stories set up in India, you may like to rethink before you decide to proceed further. However, if Kamasutra (Ancient Indian Book of Texts on human sexual behaviour) interests you, then there is a promise of unrestrained sensuality in these pages.
Some words in the local language, very few really, had to be unavoidably inserted because of their relevance to the plot or to add flavour to the story. But, for the unknowing reader's benefit, their translations have been provided alongside, within brackets.
Once again, there is no resemblance to any living characters and it would be pointless reading too much between the lines. A story is a story, and an erotic story more so - to be read simply for fun and pleasure.
Comments are welcome, for they enrich an author's creativity. However, it is expected that such criticisms do not lead to insults or taunts.
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To recapitulate the events described in the last few paragraphs of the previous chapter, Balwant had woken up with a start on hearing the soft cries from Varun. Although he was not sure about the time, he guessed it was possibly around 4.00 A.M. That would be a few hours since they had begun sharing his bed, very soon after the cacophony of the rampaging thunder had subsided. Now, however, it was calm outside. He was certain that the baby was crying in hunger and had earnestly made attempts to awaken his daughter-in-law.
Sonam, startled at being shaken out of her sleep, had got up quickly and, holding Varun in her arms, shyly expressing her embarrassment to feed her son in front of her father-in-law. She tried to find excuses, wanting to go to her own bedroom and feed the infant in privacy.
"Babuji... sho ..should I ...I g ggo to the other room?" she stammered, wondering if Babuji would excuse himself and leave the room on his own to save her from embarrassment.
"No Bahu, you feed Varun here, on the bed. Don't feel shy. You are a mother who is going to feed her baby and that's natural. Come, sit on the bed and take the baby on your lap," he said, trying to make her easy and to settle comfortably on his bed. Sonam stayed where she was, uncomfortably shifting on the bed and wondering how she could explain what was in her mind.
The patriarch was quick to understand Sonam's uneasiness in feeding her baby. Even if they had proceeded to stay together in one room and sleep side by side on the master bed, it was another thing for Sonam to part her flimsy nightie and give her nipple to her baby right in front of her father-in-law. He should have realised this, Balwant thought, instead of inconsiderately insisting on her staying in that very room itself to suckle her baby. He rebuked himself inwardly but, at the same time, he made an instant arrangement so that she could at least partially overcome her uneasiness.
Like a considerate father-in-law, he got up, reached into his cupboard, and brought out a thin towel, often called "angocha" in rural India. Made of handloom cotton, it had stripes over its body and the fabric was light in weight. It was big enough to cover the upper portion of Sonam's body, including her breasts where she would be holding her child while he suckled.
"Here ...," he offered it to Sonam to provide her a semblance of privacy.
Relief from impending embarrassment was written on Sonam's face as she gratefully accepted the towel, realising quickly that it would help her to cover her taut, dripping nipples and breasts overflowing with milk. She quickly wrapped the towel in the front of her body, running it over her shoulders, breasts and covering her lap too. Balwant saw her working under the towel, as if to open the front buttons of her nightie to release her breasts. Her face still registered the uneasiness and awkwardness in the task in hand, considering their relationship as a bahu (daughter-in-law) and father-in-law.
Having covered her bosom and, with Varun lying cosily on her lap, Sonam held her nipple to the baby's thirsty mouth. Varun started feeding instantly and suckling sounds could be heard by the patriarch who sat beside her bahu.
It was a wonderful picture of a lactating mother holding her baby and feeding her milk from her overflowing breasts. Honestly, Sonam's pair was literally about to burst. The patriarch had been pampering his Bahu with the most nutritious food ever since she had returned from Patna. There too, she was fed properly by her own mother. As they always say, the baby gets her nutrition from the mother ... feed the mother and you feed the child. No wonder that Sonam's breasts were too full of healthy milk. And there was enormous relief for Sonam when her baby started to draw out the milk from her swollen breasts, heavy and painful as they were. Caringly, she arranged Varun's hair, even kissing the baby's head that was partly visible. The rest of the child lay hidden underneath the 'angocha'.
Sonam looked up from the child to her father-in-law who kept looking at her intently. Sonam felt grateful to the man for taking so much care of her. She felt happy and seemed to be overcoming the loneliness that she initially felt when Rajesh left. Any bahu would have felt very uneasy in such a situation before her father-in-law, but Sonam had a look of contentment in front of this rugged man. She felt cared, protected and loved, and an overwhelming sense of gratitude expressed itself in her eyes. But for this man and the warmth and care that he offered in a much-needed privacy, she would have felt helpless with her infant son. Both kept quiet, each looking at each other now and then. Sometimes, they smiled when their eyes met, without uttering any word for a while.
"You are okay now, Bahu?" the patriarch suddenly asked, trying to break the stony silence.
Sonam, with a shy smile on her face and lips, nodded her head and said politely, "Ji (yes)."
"Varun seems to be happy now," he said, and she went red with embarrassment without any apparent reason. To Sonam, however, the child's present 'happiness' was due to her overflowing breasts and she inferred that her Babuji might have alluded to this pair.
But she still nodded her head.
"You have given me a lovely grandson, Bahu," the patriarch said after a moment, "and brought good fortune to this family."
She looked up at him. Her face didn't hide her happiness at the compliment, and she nodded.
"I know you are taking good care of my grandson. Your child will always feel secured beside you wherever he is," he went on talking to keep the conversation going, "but I felt concerned at his shrieks. A grandfather's feelings and concerns, you know. I hope you didn't mind my intrusion in the middle of the night."
She nodded smilingly. "No, Babuji. I am happy that you came. I was terrified at the thought of being alone. I am terrified of lightning and the deafening thunder sounds that accompany. It is something that has grown since my childhood and I could never overcome this fear. I am feeling better being here in this room with someone around."
Sonam was being honest. Indeed, she was being drawn more and more to the charisma of this man. There was no more inhibition in sharing this man's room, sleeping on his bed, suckling her baby in front of him ... everything that usually a wife would be prepared to do if the man was her husband. Only thing was that there had to be absolute privacy for, no matter what, they would have to be discreet, and no one should know that they shared one room.
