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The Best of Things
(Ragya, SwaSan) Fan Fiction Series
By Bubble
Chapter 44
"Why are we sitting here?" whispered Swara, "why can't we go up to our room?"
"Because it's so nice here, Swara!" he said, a sweeping hand to indicate the lovely arbour they were in, "I don't want to move... look, here's the pink and white bougainvillea I planted seven years ago - it's so gorgeous, and the champa is blooming and the garden smells so heavenly!"
She pushed against him, pouting at his obstinacy. After dinner, they had watched a movie on his laptop... the entertainment room downstairs had a mini-theatre screen and a state-of-the-art sound system, but it didn't compare with being on their own, sitting close to each other on the bed, watching the laptop placed between them. Then around midnight, Sanskaar had been super hungry, so they crept down like kids, he in his slacks and T shirt, and Swara in a baggy pajama and cropped T shirt, hoping they wouldn't encounter any of the elders.
But the house was quiet. She'd brought out apple juice and made him a sandwich. As it was, the job took double the time, because Sanskaar held Swara from behind throughout, nuzzling and nibbling her neck and distracting her by running his hands down her arms. And then he'd insisted on sitting in the diwan in the side verandah to eat it, and to top that, he gathered her close for a snuggle.
"Somebody might see us, Sanskaar!" she complained.
"Everyone is asleep, Swara, it's after one! The chowkidaar outhouse is on the other side, and no one can enter this section. Plus, it's not like necking is a crime - you're my wife!"
She gave him a reproachful look but subsided into his arms... soon lost to everything but the languorous movement of his hands on her back. He leaned back onto the padded seat, taking her with him. Swara was so distracted by the feel of his lips on hers, she only vaguely noted that his hand had sneaked up under her T shirt, expertly unsnapping her bra and moving the flimsy cloth away. Her generous breasts spilled out of their confines... soon, her T shirt was rucked up, his hands roved across her bare back and she registered with a small shock that his fingers were tantalizingly brushing the sides of her breasts...
He took her lips again to absorb the moan that escaped her...
+++
It was almost five in the morning. It was slightly chilly in the bedroom. Under the covers Sanskaar drew Swara closer, his hand instinctively moving her under T shirt to hold her more snugly. Still asleep, she moved her hand over his, burrowing deeper into his embrace... suddenly her eyes flew open. A sub-conscious reminder had blasted through her mind. "Oh my God!" she pushed his arm aside and sat up.
"What happened?!" he mumbled.
She got out of bed in a scramble, muttering, "shit, shit shit!", squinting at the clock.
She looked about hastily, grabbed the dupatta she had worn yesterday and wrapped it around her.
She poked her head out of the door. It was getting light, but no one seemed to be up yet. She ran downstairs and unbolted the door to the side verandah. Where was it? Ah, thank god, there it was. She leaned over and extracted her bra from the side of the diwan where it had slipped in the crack. God, she muttered, as she straightened the sheet and tried to remove signs of their midnight debauchery. Everything seemed better now - as it should be! She tucked the bra into her T shirt and locked up again.
Sounds from the kitchen... Ghanshaam seemed to have collected the milk... she ran up the stairs trying to make as little noise as possible and tiptoed down the corridor. A light under Bade Papa's door... clearly Badi Maa was up... Swara wrenched open the door to her own room and scooted inside and shut it, leaning against it, panting in relief.
Sanskaar was sitting up, drowsy and wondering if he was really going to have to get up to find out what the matter was.
"Kya hua?" he asked her.
She moved to stand in front on him and put her arms to her hips. "Kya hua!? Didn't I beg you yesterday... let's go back to our own room and not make out in the verandah?!"
"Yeah.. so?"
"Do you know what we left behind?" She demanded.
He jerked his head in question.
She extracted the garment from under her T shirt and swung it like a pendulum in front of his face.
"Oh!" he was carelessly dismissive. He took it from her and flung it on the now useless side bed.
"That's all you have to say?" she asked him, indignant.
"Bade bade gharon mein aisi choti choti baatein hoti rehtin hain, Swara!" his eyes were gleaming.
"Achcha?! Wah, wah!" she pulled an impressed face.
"But if you're so worried..." he started to say... she so knew there was something wicked coming... "...next time, you don't wear a bra to begin with!"
She threw the cushion hard, and it caught him sharply in the midriff. He reached out faster than she expected and dragged her onto the bed... he couldn't let such behaviour go unpunished now, could he?
Mannat Har Khushi Paane Ki
Cricket
