IPKKND FF: KHUSHI by JALEBI JANE Thread 1: EPISODE 001-052 - Page 84

KHUSHI by Jalebi Jane (EPISODE 032)

IT IS SAID, SISTERS, THAT A WOMAN with a will of her own is not so much in love as she proclaims.* What remains to be seen is the force of our Heroine's will after she digested what she had heard in the conference room. While Mr Chopra gathered up his massive folders, neatly bow-tied them with black ribbon, Khushi managed to remain seated. Complacent and calm. She even presented him with a faint smile when he said goodbyeand offered a similar smile to Aman as both men left the room. But immediately after the door closed, she came to her feet and whirled to face her husband who---

---Who held up a hand and stopped her.

"Wait," he said, and walked to the panel by the door. He pressed a button which caused all the vertical blinds along the windowed wall to shut. The room was now made private. But the action also darkened the room, which Arnav remedied by pressing another button to bring in light.

Throughout this preparation of the ideal battlefield, Khushi waited in painful silence---fuming with fists clenched at her side.

Arnav returned to her and leaned against the edge of the long table. He folded his hands over his chest, and announced, "Begin."

She exhaled, and then sputtered out, "How long have you known? About Shyam being a paying guest at Buaji's? About his being my mangetar?"

"Since the night you and I became lovers."

Khushi counted back to that night, and tried to recall the various conversations they had had---and how many-many-many opportunities Arnav had had for disclosure. "That's why you stopped me from speaking last night! You said we would discuss it later. Because discussing it then would have forced you to reveal that you knew everything," she concluded, her eyes widening at her realization.

"No!" Arnav clarified. "I stopped you because I wanted to take you to bed. And I felt the discussion could wait until morning. And remember, Khushi---later when we returned from the kitchen, you stopped me from speaking."

Khushi remembered. And even blushed, a tiny bit. She quickly added, "fine! We both failed to disclose matters fully last night. But you have known all this for many days."

"Yes, the essentials. But I was still gathering details."

"Details? Why didn't you ask me for details?" She stamped her foot to punctuate the word me.'  "That---that history that man provided," she pointed to the seat Mr Chopra had just vacated, "happened to me! I could have provided you with every detail. Why didn't you ask me?"

"I did ask, Khushi."

"When?" Her voice betraying her fullest disbelief.

"At the Mehras' party. I didn't know everything then, but I knew something. I assured you that you were not alone. I implied that you could tell me anything. That you could trust me."

"Ha! Like you trusted me?!" she threw back. "You trusted Shyam's word so implicitly that my word was not necessary for you. When were you planning on telling me that you knew he had tricked me and my entire family?"

"When were you planning on telling me, Khushi---that he had also tricked me and my entire family? I've known for a few days; you've known for weeks. I have equal right of resentment. You should have come to me as soon as you realized who Shyam was." His tone did not condemn nor accuse her, Sisters---but neither did it absolve her from her responsibility.

She gaped at him. How could he put this on her? How unjust!

But is it really that unjust, Khushi, her heart whispered. And when she had no fitting reply to give her heart, she closed her lips, and presented him with her back.

A weighty silence filled the room.

He reached for her and forced her to face him.

Khushi did. She faced him, eyes brimming with tears. Yes, regret and tears. "I didn't tell you because I didn't want Di to lose her marriage if there was any possible chance to salvage it. And then learning that Di was pregnant made me feel there was all the more reason to give him the benefit of doubt. And also Jiji's marriage. Of course, I didn't want to risk it. I had more and more reasons to not reveal his betrayal," she explained.

But in the act of justifying her actions to Arnav now, Khushi also realized how ill-judged her decision had been. Well-intentioned but wrong. Hiding Shyam's duplicity had created more damage. She sighed, with heavy despair, placing a hand to her forehead. "What now?" she cried.

Arnav took her in his arms. "Now I remove Shyam from Di's world," he replied matter-of-factly.

"Poor Di," Khushi sighed again.

He pulled away, his brows gathering, and corrected her. "No, Khushi! There is nothing unfortunate about this. He doesn't deserve her. She and her child must be separated from that bas***d."

Spoken so much like a man. 

Khushi elaborated, "Yes, last night showed me that he is beyond redemption. But she loves him. However little he is deserving of that love, he is her entire life. She will suffer deeply. That is what I mean."

Arnav took in her words, but Khushi suspected he could not really understand. A woman's heart and her will are not always so far apart as it would be hoped. What is right and must be done can still hurt like hell; that is what I mean, Sisters.

This reminded Khushi of a question which had entered her mind while Mr Chopra was making his presentation. "What happened at Holi?" she asked him. At Arnav's questioning frown, she added, "you changed towards me after Holi."

His hands reached to smooth her hair before they moved to cup her face. Tilting her head back, he met her eyes with a small smile of bemusement. "Yes," he said, "something shifted the evening of Mrs Kapoor's party, but I cannot say what it was precisely. I only know that the next morning I woke up knowing that I had made a grave error in judgment." His next few words were almost a whisper. "I know I've hurt you, Khushi. I was blind. But I'll fix it. I'll fix everything. Lekin thora waqt lagey ga. Just don't stop."

"Kya-stop?"---

"Don't stop with your love."  The word love was almost choked out, and he clutched her to his chest.

Khushi could feel the muscles of his throat working to swallow emotion. Don't stop with your love. As if she could? This highly intelligent-brilliant-beautiful man had absolutely no clue, did he? She had as much to teach him as she had to learn from him.

Her arms slipped about his neck and she raised her mouth to ask for a kiss.

He gave it.

It was not as long and indulgent as she required, as a knock on the door interrupted them. She pulled away, leaving Arnav to open the door.

It was Aman.

Before Aman could make his request, Arnav said, "can you prepare those requisitions? I'll sign them now."

Aman handed Arnav the folder which was in his hand.

Khushi couldn't help but smile at how intuitive Aman was about her husband's next need. She had witnessed this when she had been an employee at ARGroup. How often Aman would have the exact piece of paper or information at the very moment Arnav requested it. Arnav seemed to take this almost paranormal skill for granted.

Arnav brought the folder to the desk and reached behind him blindly for a pen, which Aman was already extending to him.

Khushi stalled Arnav with a hand on his forearm. Thinking he may prefer to stay behind and work, she suggested, "one of the drivers can take me home."

He shook his head, without looking up. "No, I can work from home. Aman will clear my day."

"Already done, Sir."

*Adapted from Choderlos de Laclos' -Les Liaisons Dangereuses-

By Jalebi Jane

KHUSHI by Jalebi Jane (EPISODE 033)

IT WAS CALLED Pearl. And the route which Arnav took to drive home carried them past the same shopping complex Khushi and Tatyana had stopped at yesterday. And Pearl was a lingerie boutique in that complex. Here Tatyana had purchased some undergarments. Khushi had admired several items in the shop, but as the day was focused on her guest, Khushi had left empty-handed. In particular, Khushi needed a strapless bra for one of her saree blouses---and she had seen one at Pearl which would be perfect.

"What is the name of this shopping complex?" she asked her husband, as they waited for the light to turn green.

He shrugged, and asked, "kyun?"

"I'd like to return to it some day and want to be able to guide the driver," she replied.

He offered, "we can stop now. What do you need?"

Khushi panicked at his question. She also blushed at the same time, but managed to say, "Oh, nothing urgent."

However, when the light turned, Arnav pulled into the complex and parked. In fact, he parked exactly opposite Pearl. 

"Really, it can wait for another day," Khushi said in an insistent tone. "We should get home. I ought to help Jiji in the kitchen. I've been out all morning. Since before breakfast."

She felt Arnav's eyes on her. "We're here now. Let's get what you need," he said. At that he left the driver side and came to the passenger side to help her out. Khushi climbed out reluctantly, her mind working furiously as to how to salvage this debacle of her own making.

"What do you need?" he repeated, as he took her arm to guide her over to the shops. When she did not reply, he stopped and looked at her. "Khushi?" he asked for the third time, "what do you need?"

Her gaze must have flitted to the boutique in question, and his next question showed that he noticed. "Lingerie?" he asked.

Khushi pivoted away from the shop.

"Are you embarrassed?" he asked, and gave one of his annoying smirks.

This riled her and her bashfulness fell away briefly. "Bilkul nahin. I'm not embarrassed. I need...uh...something to wear under a particular saree blouse."

"Come," he said and approached the door.

The doorman greeted them and they were swept into the sweetly-perfumed air-conditioned jewel-box environment; an environment designed to make one feel instantly naughty. Arnav was leading her to the front counter, but as she was familiar with the shop layout, she suggested, "why don't you wait there?" She indicated a central seating area with plush seats and magazines---and then she moved away quickly towards the waiting attendant.

A quick glance behind told her that he had complied. Thank you, Devi Maiyya. Keep him there.

She began the conversation with the attendant, and indicated her interest in the pale coral strapless bra seen yesterday. Khushi was promptly sent behind a velvet-draped area where size and fit was established. She was happy with her selection, but the attendant would have been grossly negligent to not suggest she pair the bra with the minuscule matching panties.

What woman can resist a perfect set?

Truth be known, Sisters, Khushi was increasingly self-conscious of her schoolgirl knicker and bra sets every time her husband undressed her. The sarees she wore were so beautiful and womanly; her undergarments, such a let-down. If she felt this, she wondered what Arnav---who insisted everything be just so---thought of her boring cotton whites. The woman in her; the lover in her; the sensualist in her demanded this be rectified.

She dared a glance to see what Arnav was doing. He was leafing through a magazine. But his eyes lifted to meet hers at that precise moment. He raised an eyebrow at her unspoken question. Khushi excused herself from the attendant and went to speak to him.

"I'd like to purchase more than the one set..." She let her words trail.

"Go wild, Khushi," he urged. "But," adding in an intimate tone, "include something in red."

With this carte blanche, Khushi did get carried away. Both in number and design. Having finalized her selections, she returned to Arnav once again and said sheepishly, "you are now required for payment." He came to his feet, and she added in his ear, "brace yourself. I've nearly bought one of everything in the shop."

Arnav replied, "I'll think of it as an investment in our future."

ARNAV HAD NOT BEEN PERMITTED to look at her purchases---only permitted to pay for them!---but he had extracted a promise from his wife that she would model something for him after lunch. This promise made him look forward to lunch ending, so he could take his wife upstairs for a nap. A man who has spent an hour in a lingerie shop cannot be blamed for demanding some sweet reward for his patience.

However, his plan was thwarted. Anjali asked Khushi and Payal to join her in attending a bridal mendhi party that afternoon. Arnav saw his wife again very briefly when she returned from the party. She came into their bedroom to show him her hennaed hands. But she soon dashed off again to help with dinner preparations. It must be said that by the end of the evening, he was sexually frustrated and not a little irritated that Khushi seemed entirely unaware of his plight.

And even after messaging her with his eyes, she still spent an hour after dinner discussing the party with Nani---for no apparent reason other than to torment him. She then lingered in the study with Akaash and Payal for what seemed an unnecessarily long time, discussing something so inconsequential that Arnav left her behind and proceeded upstairs. When she eventually entered their bedroom, he was in that unpleasant place of being highly aroused and highly vexed at the same time. He was seated on the recliner, with a book he wasn't reading, as she floated by him. She was deeply immersed in her own thoughts. She seemed independently happy; this didn't help his mood.

"Khushi?"

"Hmm?" she replied in a distracted tone, as she unclipped an earring.

"Take your clothes off and come here."

Khushi turned and looked at him, shocked.

Her shock was justifiable. Arnav was not what one would call sweet-tongued, but he usually managed more grace than this. An explanation was necessary. "I've been wanting you alone since this afternoon---and you don't seem remotely aware of it."

Khushi eyes warmed, and she gave a teasing smile. "Was there something important you wanted to discuss, Mr Raizada?" As she spoke she unravelled her saree and dropped it on the stool.

She was turning into quite a seductress, he noted with admiration. And satisfaction. Feasting his eyes on her, he leaned back on the recliner, extending his legs. She began to move towards him, but he stopped her.

"No. As you have wasted enough time today, I want you to strip first and then come to me," he insisted, with a provocative leer. He saw she hesitated, and though she maintained eye contact, her teeth bit into her lower lip. A sign of her inhibition. But she began to disrobe. Removing her blouse first. Then unlacing her petticoat. Letting them both drop to the floor.

His breath caught at her beauty. It was as though each time she revealed herself to him, something about her had altered. She grew more lush each day.  And seeing her in something other than sensible functional undergarments impacted him. 

Visually, of course. But also in that rather-masculine possessive sense; that this luscious creature in a cherry red bra and matching short-shorts was his alone. This Khushi was his private Khushi. The mirror---which was conveniently behind her---ought to have been enough for Arnav's voyeurism, but he was greedy. By making a small circle with his finger, he indicated that he wanted her to turn around for him. Another flash of hesitation. But she did not disappoint. She turned around slowly, and then over her shoulder, she caught his eyes and said, "I learnt a new word today."

"Enlighten me, please," he begged. Soon he would be begging for even more.

With her hands on her hips, she stuck out her derriere and said with mischief in her eyes, "these are called booty shorts."

He chuckled and said, "bring that booty over here and I'll teach you more new words."

By Jalebi Jane

KHUSHI by Jalebi Jane (EPISODE 034)

ARNAV SINGH RAIZADA knew one thing about his wife: there were no half-measures in Khushi's life. She was at her boldest, her fullest, her most committed, her most invested in everything that she faced.  So far they were equal. However, where Khushi went even further than himself was in their physical relationship. One would think that Arnav had the distinct advantage of experience; but Khushi trumped experience with authenticity and enthusiasm. Even when self-conscious, when he asked something of her, she gave it. And she gave it not out of duty or desire to please alone, she gave it because she herself wanted to taste the fruit.

When he asked her to strip, he had felt her waver. Nevertheless, she had done it. She had stripped for him---and had allowed him to fill his eyes---allowed his eyes to ravish her body in the red lingerie she had selected at his request. Each day---no, each moment!---he saw that Khushi kept extending herself in their intimate life; very often outside her comfort, but doing it with rapture and taking pleasure in it herself. He couldn't help smiling when he thought how smugly he had once believed that he would have something to teach her. He now knew that all he could teach her was mechanics and geography; how to be a lover?---that she knew innately.

"Why are you smiling?" she asked, suddenly shy.  As shy as a woman in red booty shorts straddling her husband could be!

Arnav cupped her bottom and asked, "Is this the same woman who would blush when her dupatta would drop?"

Khushi coloured and buried her face into his neck. His hands caressed her hips and thighs, his eyes following the journey of his hands. He said, "you are stunning." And before those words had time to sink in, he surprised her with a spank.

"Ouch!" she yelped, and pouted.

"But don't ever make me wait again!" he warned.

"It didn't excite you?"

Arnav tilted his head to take in the naughty sparkle in her eyes. "Control and power excite me. Delay only aggravates," he said.

"That's a shame, because I can't be controlled," she countered, "nor can I be overpowered."

"Oh really," he stated, as he lunged to his feet.

Believing herself to be in danger of toppling, her legs gripped his waist and her arms caught his neck.

"You can't be controlled?" he asked rhetorically, with a smirk on his lips.

Before she could express outrage, he took her mouth in a fierce kiss. Their tongues met, their sighs mingled and he felt her becoming more and more his. Still in his arms, he crushed her against the solid wall adjacent to the bed. With his one hand supporting her hips---he pulled aside that bit of lace with his free hand and met with her wetness.

"Umm," she moaned softly in response to his touch. Arnav saw her eyes shut, her head roll back.

"One touch and you are under my control, Khushi."

"No," she protested. Rather weakly.

"Shall I stop?" he asked, testing her readiness with his finger.

"No," she replied. "Don't stop. Ever."

Aroused now to point of extreme tenderness, he undid the fly of his jeans, and entered her swiftly. His grunt was half-muffled, as he buried his face into her hair. She gasped and tightened around him, and he was aware that he who had just now boasted of control was in danger of embarrassing himself. Or rather worse, disappointing her.  Arnav gathered his scattered senses, and refocused himself on her pleasure. It was always her enjoyment that gave him his final satiation.

His thumb stroked her nipple through the red lace.

She moaned again, her voice soaked in pleasure.

He replaced his thumb with his tongue and mouth, tugging, bathing---

"Take me to the bed," she begged.

"Right here," he said.

"Here?" she asked. Her incredulity made him smile.

"Here," he repeated, assuring her. And he showed her how well he could support her against a wall, as he ground his hips into her warmth.

Again and again.

By Jalebi Jane