Chapter 1: The Ritual of Neti
The air was thick with the scent of jasmine and sandalwood as Shalini, the bride with curves that could stop a heartbeat, was led into the dimly lit room by her youngest devar, Arjun. Her lehenga, a cascade of crimson and gold, shimmered under the flickering oil lamps, her ample chest heaving with every breath, barely contained by the tight choli. She knew what was coming—Neti, the forbidden ritual whispered about in hushed tones, a tradition that bound family in ways no one dared speak aloud.
Arjun, lean and sharp-featured, closed the door behind them with a deliberate click. His eyes, dark and hungry, roamed over her form, lingering on the swell of her breasts. 'Bhabhi, you look like a goddess tonight,' he murmured, his voice dripping with mischief. 'But even goddesses must shed their mortal layers for Neti.'
Shalini smirked, her full lips curling with confidence. 'Careful, Arjun. I’m no damsel to be undone so easily. You think you can handle what’s beneath this lehenga?' Her tone was a challenge, her eyes glinting with a fire that matched the sindoor on her forehead.
'Oh, I’m counting on it,' he shot back, stepping closer. His fingers deftly untied the strings of her lehenga, letting the heavy fabric pool at her feet. Piece by piece, he removed her jewelry, leaving only the sacred sindoor, her dangling earrings, the mangalsutra resting between her voluptuous breasts, the payal tinkling at her ankles, and the bangles clinking on her wrists. She stood before him, gloriously bare, her skin glowing like polished amber. 'Fuck, Bhabhi,' he breathed, 'you’re a damn vision.'
She raised an eyebrow, unfazed by his gaze. 'Your turn, devar ji. Strip. Let’s see if you’re worth the hype.' Her command was sharp, leaving no room for hesitation. Arjun grinned, shedding his kurta and dhoti in record time, revealing a body taut with anticipation, his cock already half-hard under her piercing stare.
'You’re not shy, are you?' he teased, stepping closer until the heat of their bodies mingled. 'Good. I like a woman who knows what she wants.'
'And I like a man who doesn’t waste time talking,' Shalini retorted, her hand brushing against his chest, trailing down with purpose. Her fingers grazed lower, and his breath hitched. 'We’ve got an hour, Arjun. Don’t bore me.'
His laugh was low, predatory. 'Bore you? Bhabhi, I’m about to make you forget you’re even married.' He pulled her close, his hands gripping her hips, her bare skin electric against his. Their lips crashed together, a battle of wills as much as desire, her nails digging into his shoulders. She felt him grow harder against her thigh, and a wicked smile played on her lips. 'Already so eager?' she taunted, her voice a sultry purr.
'Can you blame me?' he growled, his hand sliding down to cup her ass, pulling her tighter against him. 'You’re dripping with sin, and I’m fucking thirsty.'
Her laugh was sharp, cutting through the tension. 'Then drink, devar ji. But don’t think I’ll just lie back and let you. I play to win.' She pushed him toward the silken sheets in the corner of the room, her body a weapon of seduction, ready to claim her prize as the air grew heavy with their shared heat, their panting breaths a prelude to the storm about to break.
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