OS : Khafa Khafa

'Madhuri was the best dancer in Bollywood,' their daughter remarked, her eyes glued to her phone screen. Geet continued checking the accounts.

'Such graceful moves. All these newbies don't hold a candle in front of her.'

'I so wish I could dance like her Dad,' the daughter said to her father.

'I think you could if you try.'

'Please you're saying this because I'm your daughter.'

'No, I'm serious,' Maan said, 'If your mother could, then why not you?'

'Mom can dance, are you serious?'

'Dead serious. Geet remember Shimla. The dance.'

Geet blushed deeply as she tried to stammer out a response while the past memories crept on her.

'Yes, I could dance a little. I'm sure can too. Better than me, in fact.'

'You just need determination and a strong motive to succeed,' Geet said to her daughter.

'Yes, very strong motive,' Maan teased her as she glared at him.

20 yrs ago

'Anything else?' A young Maan asked.

Dabbing at her mouth with a white, triangular napkin Geet shook her head and pushed the plate away.

The waiter came to collect their plates.

'Bring the bill, please.' They requested together. An old habit. She smiled meeting his eyes. A glare followed his frown.

Mr.Frownie Brownie she muttered before looking away.

But his eyes were still on her making her peer at him from under her long and beautiful lashes.

Wrong move it was for Mr.Khurana was seething in anger. Had been since the first night of their marriage. Fidgeting under his cold stare, her fingers pulled closer the ends of her scarf. The gesture made his eyes burn brighter.

'Stop pulling his attention to your scarf, Geet. You don't want him to remind about your hair fiasco.' Geet instructed herself.

'Chalein?' She tried diffusing the tension.

He stared at her some more before sighing. Back in his chair, he smoothed back his already smooth and shiny hair, a habit that Geet had become used to and loved.

Having grown up with this man, now knowing that she'll grow old with him, learn more of him in a way no one ever would, that he was hers to explore, was an extremely delectable idea. Unconsciously, she leaned towards him, her hands moving to where his lay.

Maan noted the unconscious movement from the corner of his eyes and also the dreamy look her face had taken.

He pushed the familiar desire he always felt back to some deep cave and presumed a nonchalant air. Arduous task for the sight of her dainty wrists reminded him of her tiny waist which reminded him that it was her beautiful breasts that gave way to the waist. That they were forbidden and that he was not going to touch any part of her. That he was the biggest fool on earth. And that he will die a virgin.

He was all hers, Geet thought. Only hers. Such a pleasant and satisfying thought.

'What will be your name?' He had asked once during one of their phone conversations.

'Geet Maan Khurana,' She had answered.

'What will be your name?' She had asked.

'Maan Geet Khurana.' She had fallen all over again for him. If that was possible.

She let her tiny finger tantalizingly brush his finger. Scalded, he pulled his hand back.

Nautanki Khurana!! Even he's affected by our closeness but portraying as if I'm an untouchable.

'Katti kaat di maine,' She said unperturbed.

'So what? Main nahi manta.Friendship nahi hui na vapas. I'm still katti. Aur rahunga hamesha.'

Pushing his chair back, he got up to leave.

'Husband and wife ke beech, there's no katti and mitthi,' She said quickly catching up with him.

'Says who?'

'Geet Khurana, Your bride.' That took him by surprise and tickled his insides but he caught himself immediately. Sab moh Maya, he reminded himself.

'That's when there's love between them. But there's no such thing between us right? I'm a disgraceful man who's only thinking about sex all the time!!! Baby, good girls like you should keep away from me. I'm a bad man so being katti with me is safer. Kahan tum Shudh Shakahari pey jal jaisi saaf Geet aur kahan main Maan Manshahari.'

'It's Ram milaye Jodi,' Geet quipped in refusing to get discouraged.

'Just like Mills and Boons type. Nymphomaniac husband and His Naive wife, what do you think?'

He gave her a dirty look and took a right turn which took them out of the dining place.

'You think it's a joke Geet? You've no idea how you've hurt me. To make so many sacrifices just to be with you. To have been waiting for our wedding night for years only to be so heavily disappointed. Not to forget the humiliating words you threw at me. You'll never understand how I am feeling now.'

Geet twisted between her fingers the end of her gauze saree. Meenakshi Seshadri saree, she had worn to look sexy like the heroine herself.

But Maan was too caught up in words that she'd said in a fit of anger and hormones. She hadn't meant any of it. She had apologized so many times still he won't give up his oath of never touching her.

Maan and Geet had met in school, fallen in love with each other and had been in love since then. Belonging to two different communities with different ideologies, their marriage had seemed like a distant dream, their parents against the idea of them being together. It had been difficult but they had persevered against the odds. Things had taken a better turn and they had gotten married with their parents blessings. Dream come true.

But like every journey there had been a lot of speed breakers on their way to the destination.

So much that Geet had cried once the whole wedding affair was done. The pressure had been too much. The continuous attempts to please and satisfy so many relatives along with Maan had drained her energy.

Everybody wanted her to be perfect. No scope of laxity.

When she had lashed out at Maan, she had been simply reacting. Buckling under the pressure. Expressing her pain. He had wanted her to look most beautiful. Like his Madhuri Dixit.

'One thing he asked of you and you couldn't even do that.' She had already been depressed.

Then Maan had entered the room looking all suave and sexy. Like her own hero, Salman Khan.

Then she had curled her toes beneath her lehenga in shame. But I'm no Madhuri Dixit, she thought worriedly. Removing his coat, he had kept it on the single seat in the room and had given her a wolfish grin.

He would hate me. Hate me!! I won't be able to bear it, she thought and had immediately blabbered,'I'm tired and feeling sleepy. Good night,' And turning away from him, she had pulled the duvet to cover herself.

In three steps he was by her side, removing the duvet. 'Sleepy, how come you are sleepy on our wedding night. No, Mrs.Khurana you aren't allowed to sleep.' She ignored him acting that she was already deep in sleep. But her heart was roaring loud in her ears. This had been her dream too.

Giving her all to him.

'Don't throw tantrums now, Geet,' he was peeling off her ghunghat to look at her face.

'Let him see,' She thought allowing him to take a look at her face and her new haircut.

Meera had said he will like it, that the grooms are love blind and testosterone charged on their wedding night. He already loves you so much. He'll hardly notice such things. She fervently hoped it was the case.

'Sit up,' he said seriously. She sat up and not meeting his eyes.

'What did you do with your hair,' He asked. So much for being in love with her and testosterone charged.

'I had told them Madhuri Dixit style but the parlour girl messed it up a little.'

'A little?' Maan asked incredulously, 'lag raha hai chuhon ne kutar diye tumhare baal.Kaun hai woh baldamru parlour wali? Batao mujhe, jaan se maar dunga mai use!'

'Why are you getting so angry?' She asked. The air had left her lungs and depression was filling the empty spaces.

'Why am I getting angry? She has spoiled your look. Not to forget my mood also. One thing I asked even that you couldn't get proper.' Geet bristled at his tone.

'Some luck we have. First it rained in our marriage and now this haircut' Frustrated he thumped his hand on the bed. Geet felt like he had kicked off her heart.

'If you're done, then excuse me I am going to sleep.'

'Sleep? Then what about our Suhaag Raat?' He was looking down her curled form. This was all going wrong.

'Well, we're not having it tonight.'

'After waiting for so many years, weaving so many dreams around it, You're saying that you want to sleep? Geet you know how much I wanted to make you mine...'

'Yes! I know how much you want us together. And that all you've been concerned is about kisses and hugs and us sleeping together. Of course I know. Sometimes you seem to me like those disgraceful people who are only interested the physical part of the marriage. That you don't love me!!! If you loved me you'd know under how much pain and pressure I was in and you'd ask if I was doing fine.'

'Geet! Just stop it. Are you even listening to yourself? You think I am only after sex?! Yeh soch hai tumhari? Tum...' He stopped himsel from saying anything further and pulling out his clothes from the wardrobe, he slammed the bathroom door. On return he crashed on the sofa.

She glared at the sofa. Kabhi sofa kabhi sauten!!!

Geet's only thought that night as she slept alone in her bed was that she was ugly and Maan will no longer love her. Not after all the things she had in rage and under the effect of raging hormones. Yes, hormones because at midnight she discovered she had started with her periods.

Great, no consummating the marriage for next four days.

Now, it had been eight days since her period, she was free and they were on their honeymoon in Shimla and yet he wouldn't touch her.

Out of the dining place, they began walking back to the their room. Honeymoon suite, it was. Large and a gorgeous room it was. The settings and decoration, aphrodisiac. But for a wife whose husband had taken a celibacy oath just a few hours after marriage, the room was the veritable salt on her wounds.

It was dinner time and the corridor was extremely busy and packed. Geet moved closer to Maan, their arms brushing each other. It heightened his awareness of her appealing figure and warm skin. Even her hairdo looked cute now. He had always wanted her and now as she paraded before him 24*7, it was being difficult to not take what he had always believed was his, what was supposed to be his. But her words had hurt him big time and in anger he had told her that he would never ever touch her.

As much as he had enjoyed the look on her face, he was the one suffering the most now.Nobody had told him that Bhishma's oath was to be admired by all and to be followed by none.

In the room, Geet was changing the clothes in her bathroom when she peeped outside.

'Maan,' The voice was low and seductive.

A wary Maan, turned slowly and there she was in all her glory. Her drape lying on the floor, she in a skimpy blouse and a slim petticoat.

'Blouse ki hook nai khul ri, what do I do?' She had donned the naivest look on her face.

He took a lungful of air in and exhaled loudly.

'Geet Khurana, I'm going to kill you.'

She stomped her foot. 'Why so angry?'

All Maan could think was how sinfully delicious she was looking now. Moh Maya, he reminded himself.

'But the hook,' She whispered.

'Mangal bhawan amangal haari.It's my bhajan time. I'm sorry.'

When he saw her face fall he felt avenged. What had she said that he was the one always having sex on his mind. Now, who was being desperate.
Little inconveniences like thumping hearts, sweaty palms and cold showers really didn't matter in the sight of greater things like revenge, right? Mostly right.

So what are we going to do now?' She asked her husband once she was back from the bathroom .

'What are we going to do? We're certainly not going to make love.'

'You do Saraswati Path while I'll go and see if I can summon Lord Hanuman on earth by my sheer penance.'

'I don't think Hanumanji would be interested in the likes of you.

'Exactly, what do you mean by that?'

'I mean that after marriage you've become a householder now by marrying me. and as far my knowledge goes, he's partial to Brahmacharis.'

'Wow that's some information. Where did you come across this eligibility criteria? HE's put it on his official website? If yes, any chance he's mentioned about his caste too? Lots of speculation keep going around during elections.' He fixed his pillow and lay on his side, her scent assaulting his olfactory senses. She immediately mimicked him and lay on her side. Too close for his comfort. He wantedto crush her in his arms. He wanted to push her off the bed.

While Geet was thinking of how to bring him back to topic, he added, 'And as for me being married, I'm still chaste and pure and a contender to the Brahmachari title. You my dear had lot of role to play. History stands witness as to how many times I tried to get rid of my virtue but you just wouldn't agree. So definitely it was not due to lack of trying. My chastity is as intact as it was before.'

'Not as intact as you think. We've hugged and kissed too. So what if it wasn't lip to lip. Lip to cheeks tha na. There's no use of this penance. If not today, tomorrow you've to be mine.' Saying which she slid her leg along his making him jump out of the bed.

'What happened?' she asked.

'Cigarette.'

'Cigarette? I thought you were on a penance.'

'Purifying my mouth before the Hanuman path, any problem.'

'None.' She said.

He excused himself to the balcony and remained there until the singing of his blood had stopped.


'Pinky your hook idea didn't work. Woh bahut gussa hai and he has steel will and control.' She said into the phone. Maan was out and she was alone in her hotel room.

'Chup kar , You're not trying enough.'

'What else is left? He doesn't even spare me a look.'

'Chitrahaar was airing on the T.V. and Pinky's eyes were fixed on the television screen. A new melodious song started which inspired an idea in her mind.

'Geet sahi wala idea aaya hai. Sun,' she screamed into the phone.

'What?! No, I can't. I won't be able to. And what about the props. Hmm. Okay, I will see but I'm not sure this will work.'

'All the best! Kar do chadhai Maan par. Geet ne Shimla ja geet na gungay apne kadam na tharkaye to kiya kya. Vijayi Bhavah.'

Once she kept the receiver back, Geet felt much lighter than before.

Maan wondered what was causing his little bride so long in the bathroom. An upset stomach? But she'd looked fine in the morning. He didn't care he told himself and quietly sat on his side of bed watching television.

He was watching the news, his ears on the bathroom, eyes on the TV when the bathroom door opened. He turned to see her walking out...and he stared. Yes, all he could was stare with his mouth hanging open.

Yes, because that wasn't his Geet.

Sari chucked, she was in a see through shirt over a sleeveless tank top. The blue satin scarf that had been hiding her hair now was around her neck.

Deep breaths he took as eyes traveled down to find a slime skirt draped around her thighs, short enough to leave all that skin and those legs, legs that had featured in so many of his fantasies. Legs encased in stilettos.

She watched him with an intense gaze and he felt his heart beat with an intensity that he'd never felt before.

No, this epitome of sensuality couldn't be the heavily oiled double pony tailed girl he had studied with in school. This Aphrodite was not the woman with whom he had taken pheras.

As she marched to him with a definite agenda, the coward that he was he moved to the drawer to look for cigarettes. Sexual tension, how do you release it?

Which perfume was this? He thought without turning her way.

She, like a confident diva, switched off the news. Walked to the stereo player and inserted a cassette. The music started. Asha Bhosle. Zindagi Ka Jua. Madhuri Dixit seducing Anil Kapoor.

Damn! Did he hold a chance now?

Too scared to breathe lest it may turn a dream, he stood rooted to his spot.

The clicking of the heels and her fragrance said she was near him.

'Yeh cigarette kyun nahi jalate?' She asked just like Madhuri had asked Anil. Sultry and sweet, that's how her voice sounded now. The blood made their way to the nether regions. She hasn't even started.

Mind had already stopped working now nervousness seized him.

'Uh...cigarette jala li toh bachega kya...thoda sa dhua, thodi si raakh.'

'Acha...toh philosophy bhi karte ho.'

'Kabhi- Kabhi.'

'Aur pyaar, pyaar karte ho?' She asked standing right against the drawer, her posture pushing her breast right under his nose. He didn't know where to keep his eyes. On her amply endowed assets or her full red lips or her eyes that were calling out to him.

'Karta hun, apne doston se, apni Dadima se. Ek girlfriend se bhi kiya tha.'

Geet removed her scarf and flung it around him pulling him closer to herself. 'Aur wife?' She prompted, 'Wife se pyar karte ho ki nahi?'

It was then he saw the glimpse of vulnerability in her eyes. The nervousness too.

'Karta hun bahut par woh nahi karti mujhse. Karta hun usse pyar isliye toh dur reh raha hoon because that's what she wants. Distance.'

'Par usse bhi toh puchiye, ki use kya chahiye?' She said closing in the distance between them and now opening the buttons of his shirt, one by one.

'Kya chahiye, lo puch liya' Maan asked too hypnotized.

Geet didn't have to answer as the singer answered for her, Dard e dil ki sanam bas dawa chahiye... Ibtida ho chuki...intehaan chahiye

She didn't even have to tip her toes for the heels lent her the height she needed to kiss him.

'Geet, what are you doing?' He reproached her half heartedly.

'Ssh. I'm making love to you.. Let me.'And he let her because , when your wife was kissing you, you really couldn't stop her now could you.

So she gave him kisses. Lots of them.

First, on his forehead. Second one on his nose. Then on his right cheek. Man unconsciously offered her the left cheek. And gasped at the open mouth kiss.

He was anticipating now some lip to lip action and his slipped several beats when she merely touched his lips with the tip of her tongue and moved away.

Teasing woman.

Bereft and cold, his eyes now followed her around the room as she imitated the sexy moves of Madhuri Dixit.

Geet diligently performed her steps, continued with the pull and push between the game as Pinky had told her to but as time passed she began feeling a nervous energy engulf her.

This time when she went to him, the dance move required her to rub herself against him and slide down him, as Madhuriji does and she had thoroughly rubbed herself against him and slid down to his feet and now when she looked up to meet his eyes, she almost fell on the floor.

It was the color of his eyes. Was he angry?

Liquid desire, that's what she was seeing when she looked at him but the naive girl she was, she didn't understand.

She decided to quit the act, and at once serious now, she was removing herself away from his body when he grabbed her waist and pulled her tightly to himself. Confused she looked up and he said to her, 'Geet I can't anymore.' And he pulled her lips for a kiss. Passion does it taste like this? When they moved away panting for air, they both had that amazed look on their face.

'Once again?' His eyes asked.

'Yes, please.' Her gaze replied.

If Geet thought that it was the end of the night, then she couldn't have been farther from the truth for Maan took his own time to give her what she wanted and to take what he had needed for so long.

After hours of passion, when they lay curled in each others arms, Geet found it essential to apologize.

'I didn't mean it. I was just angry,'

' I also overreacted. Your hair is actually looking cute.'She grinned at him.

'Love you Mr.Khurana.'

'Love you too Mrs.Khurana'

She was falling asleep when she heard him say, 'Tomorrow should we enact the dhak dhak karne laga scene?'

Not a bad idea,' she replied and throwing her hands around his naked abdomen and went off to a peaceful sleep after so many days. Alas, it lasted only for a few hours because Mr.Khurana wanted a taste of his wife again.

Originally posted by: sporthy_smile28

Passion... Umm not sure

But i found it so damn adorable and cute

Loved both maans ruthna and geet ka manana 😆

Nice one

Do keep writing!