Love turns ash

Chapter:14 MORNING DELIGHT

 POV: MANAV

Somehow, I survived my wife’s punishment and its nearly morning and I couldn’t even sleep a single second whole night. I have a long day ahead but I may take a leave today seeing the horrendous night I’ve had. To interrupt my thoughts my wife come closer to me in her sleep. Close enough that her small garments keeping us apart. God please kick my ass hard it’s so f*****g difficult. She lowers her hand into my underwear caressing my Bunty wooing him. oh my god is she doing It intentionally. I’m no way going to break my promise but ohm ahh my bunty enjoys it.

“ohm you are so big. Are all c***s so big?”, she asks in her sleep. Oh god I’m dying to tell her what my mistresses used to say that I’m bigger than they have ever had. Oh my god I’m f****d. ooh my bunty loves her. She presses her body towards me and her c**t towards my steel rod.

“make me yours”, she utters in her sleeps and I groan aloud. To my luck the alarm goes on and she opens her eyes in shock. She takes a few seconds to process what is going on and were her hand is. Then she pulls it back muttering “hit”.

Embarrassed as she looks maintains the distance between us gets up, wears her clothes, unlocks the door and flees without uttering another word. I need her after this how will I stop touching her when I know she looks so gorgeous. What was beneath those little white clothes she wears. It was so good that she always wears suits or jeans tops covering all her body. Even at night loose top and pyjama like a kid. Only on special occasions when she wears sarees, she looks so beautiful. I still remember our wedding. The red saree with tight blouse. showing off her cleavage. The abdomen flat enough not to notice and chubby enough to melt.

She sometimes on Aryas insistence wears dresses on her mommy daughter tea party matching clothes with Arya. The dresses are nothing like sluts but her legs appear so appealing. For heaven’s sake god made her like a goddess why did that body land up to her. She is made to be loved and I hate that I’m going to ruin her but I have to do that. I can’t forget my revenge losing myself in her beauty.

She did horrible things to me and my family, my Diya. I want to forget all these moments with her, the care and love she shows me and Arya, those old memories of togetherness.

Later that morning Preeti goes to her firm early due to some urgent work. Now me and Arya are left in the house. I have to get Arya ready for school. After a long time well have a daddy daughter time together. I was so jealous past these days because Arya spent all her time with Preeti but as much as jaundiced by the sharing of my daughter I was happy that my baby got all the love she deserved. I never thought of remarry for I can’t forget Diya but I always wanted to give Arya the motherly endearment. The only thing my father did in forcing me was gave Arya the happiness she always desired. I always feared a step mother will destroy her life but Preeti loves her if not more than Diya than equivalent to her.

I try to wake my sleeping beauty but she is so peacefully sleeping that she doesn’t feel like waking up. I again try to wake her up this time by speaking, “get up Arya. Get up baby”

“mamma please let me sleep the bonus I will forgive the todays incident story please.”, she says angrily in her sleep. Oh, she really wants to sleep. My wife left me a note that said ‘please get Arya ready for school today drop her off and take care of breakfast’. I know she must have something urgent this is the first time she did something like that. She is very determinant when it comes to her family or loved ones this I know because I’m living her with past one and half months and this is the first thing you get to know about her. She can devout every drop of love over you if you mean to her. 

I start to tickle her,” het up get up you sleeping beauty”

“no daddy please don’t”, she says but when she gets tired off from the tickle and laughing, she gets up rubbing her beautiful eyes. I’m always in an awe of what an angel I have produced. She looks so like Diya and me.

“where’s mommy”, she asks me in her sleepy tone yawning.

“she is office for some urgent work.”

“she again dodged the story”, she says with her stubborn face. But what story she is dodging. Now that made me curious. May be, she went office early so that she can dodge this stuff.

“what story”, I ask her curiously

“she everyday narrates me the incidents of her life. The night before you trip, I asked her the story of when you first met her. She dodged it saying she had an early flight. Yesterday when I asked, she seemed off and refused but I didn’t insist a today she left early”, saying this she made her puppy face and I knew what she wanted. Oh my god she looks so cute with that expressions on her face. Hand folded, eyes down, lower lip extended, forehead full of lines and her cheeks and nose red. amusement fills me and I suggest her, “would you like to hear it from me?”

her eyes fill with excitement and she says “you won’t tell mommy about it”

I ask her intrigues “why?”

“I want to know her side of story too”, she admits. Staying with her mother she has started has started adopting her characteristics.

“okay done but first get up let’s get the daddy daughter shower”, I say.

Then we have our shower like old time. Until now I didn’t realise how much I missed these showers then she said, “no tell me a please”

“okay so listen”

Then I narrate her the first encounter to Preeti and Diya.

Flashback

It my first date with Diya. and in our locality if a girl and boy are found meeting alone the boy is beated and the couple is often reported to police. If they are lucky enough the old people leave them with warning. Generally, they are caught by their relatives and before they reach home the news reaches home. So, to avoid situation we lover always have our backbone and crusaders called as friends. Who accompany us?

Diya was in 11th class and Preeti in 10th. They were apparently enamouring and friends. I and Diya were in same school till 10th grade but then she changed hers and went to St. saviours Preeti’s school. We decided to meet. So, your uncle John and I were waiting in a park. Before hoping to school, she was coming to meet me. John was anticipated when she said that she is bringing her friend.

“how was Diya mamma”, she asks.

“your Diya mamma was very beautiful stylish and outspoken. She had way of styling. You know she looked so pretty even her school clothes. Tight shirt, short skirt. Her hairs bound in pony tail but always her flicks out. Always natural make up with light kajal in her eyes, always lip balm on her lips. Earrings to complete her stunning look.”

“she seems like mommy. I always see momma so stylish when she goes to office.”

Preeti was nothing like Diya. Diya loved making boys notice her and Preeti was always natural and simple. Past years she has gone major transformation but still she is more reserved. For example, Diya always wore western wear hardly a few times suits after her marriage she never wore saree but Preeti majority wears indo-western or Indian wear. Her favourite are sarees and trust me she looks like a goddess in her sarees. But I can’t tell that to my daughter and for god sake why am I comparing both of them? I always wanted an outspoken girl like Diya never a nerd reserved conservative like Preeti. Stop it Manav.

“she was not like this back then. Well when I first saw her, she had a heavy bag on her back. Two braids with centre partition with grey hairs. Short, healthy but not fat in a loose shirt and long skirt. No makeup simple raw and natural. She was nervous as wreck and hardly spoke anything. John tried making a conversation but she shrugged him off. Her eyes always down. Then. the whole time she was quiet fidgeting with her rubber band as I remember. But I didn’t pay her attention because I was busy with your Diya mamma”, I say.

“bad papa you should have given her attention too she is so nice.”, she scolds me resented.

“oh, baby if I would have given her attention then how would have, I gotten you?”

“what”, she asks confusingly. Oh god s**t I forgot she is just 5 years old

“prince right now you are small enough to understand now let’s go to school”, then we head to school. Whole ride the little kept on asking how her mother was poorly curious about her real mother as If she wasn’t interested in her. This anguished me but I understand. She never got to spend time with Diya much.