Hi guys.
Gosh, I am updating this story after 1 month and I usually update so fast!! Sorry, but I kind of lost interest in writing. It happens, kya karen? Anyway, I hate leaving things unfinished, which is why, even though my muse is completely MIA, and I am totally not happy with what I have written, I have decided to finish off this story. So kisi ko yeh story yaad ho ya nahi, here it is again 😆
Oh, yes, and I realise that in the serial, Shagun and Ashok didn't marry, but that's ok my story is my alternate universe, and here, even though Adi comes back into Ishra's life, it is sans Shagun, who has happily blackmailed Ashok into unhappy matrimony.
Anyways, read if you want to, but don't blame you if you don't. Apologies in advance for this half baked half arsed effort. 🤣
Part 8C
Raman sat on the sofa, his head in his hands, watching as his wife danced away merrily with his daughter and sister.
"Oye Puttar, tu aise kyun baitha hai? Yeh le zara loaded pee le aur ho ja shuru" his mother nudged him in the ribs and handed him a glass of amber liquid as she settled beside him.
"Waise aaj meri bahu bade maze utha rahi hai. Aisa kya kiya tu ne dinner par huh?
"Kya ma, aap bhi" he muttered darkly as he watched his wife morosely. The touch of her tender skin still caressed his arms, the taste of her lips was still on his tongue, her scent was still a fragrance wafting before him. He groaned with frustration, as the object of his desire suddenly turned and pirouetted over to the sofa.
"Ramaaan" she caressed his name in a breathless giggle, as she put out a hand toward him. "Aap yahan kyun baithe hai. Aao dance karo na"
"No" he retorted shortly, gulping down his drink.
"Mummyji" Ishita pouted, turning toward her beaming mother in law. " dekho na, Raman dance nahi kar rahe hai mere sang"
"Hoy Raman, khotiya, jaa na, teri biwi dance shance karna chahti hai" Toshiji aimed an affectionate mock slap at her son.
Raman turned his attention from his drink to his wife. Mummyji's drinks were having their inevitable effect on him, turning him mellow and his erasing his surliness. He smiled up at Ishita, remembering her promise to dance for him.
"Dance toh karna tha madrasan" he growled, standing up and grabbing her proferred hand. He followed her to where their daughter was happily prancing around with Shravu, Simi, Bala, Mihika, Mihir and Romi.
" Bhai aagaye" Romi yelled, dragging him into the crowd.
Raman moved to the beat of the music, grabbing his little daughter into his arms, his eyes fixed on his wife.
"Ruhi beta" he addressed his little girl. "Aap toh so gayi thi na, phir kaise jaag gayi?"
"Papa, Romi chachu ne kaha ki hum party karte hai" Ruhi was starting to droop a little and snuggled into her fathers arms.
"Accha ab enough party, I think it's time for bed. Bahut raat ho chuki. Ishita" he called out to his wife, who had her arms entwined around Simi and Mihika, and was busy doing what appeared to be a cross between the cha cha cha and the bharatnatyam."Ruhi sona chahti hai. I'm taking her"
Ishita tripped over to her husband and daughter and dropped a fond kiss on Ruhi's cheek. "Kya aaj papa aap ko sleep sleep karenge Ru beta?"
"Papa ki stories Ruhi ko kahan pasand" Raman retorted before Ruhi had the chance to say anything. "Ruhi ko toh sirf Ishima se story sunna hai. Mein isse le kar jaata hoon, tum aa jaana ten minutes mein, story sunnane" And with that Raman escaped with his princess in his arms, before she could tell her Ishima that she was perfectly happy with papa's stories.
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It was twenty minutes later.
Ruhi had fallen asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow, and Raman had tucked her up lovingly before retreating to his own bedroom.
He had spent the past few minutes lighting candles and arranging things in his room. Now for the difficult part, getting Ishita to join him.
He went out into the hall, smiling and shaking his head at the scene before him.
Mummyji was snoring on the sofa, next to a drowsy papaji. Amma, appa, Vandu, Bala and Shravan were nowhere to be seen, having presumably given up on the festivities. Only Simmi, Romi, Mihir and the indefatigable Ishita Bhalla were still dancing merrily, now in a conga line. They grabbed at him as he walked up to them, but he evaded the clutching hands and pulled his wife aside.
"Ishita, Ruhi is waiting for you" he took her hand and started to walk up the stairs, calling behind as he went " Goodnight, ab tum sab bhi so jao."
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"Ruhi hamaare kamre mein hain kya Raman?"
Ishita asked innocently as Raman ushered her into their bedroom, closing the door shut firmly behind him and sliding the bolt for good measure.
Soft music was playing in the background and the only light in the room was from the twinkling candles that were scattered throughout.
"No" Raman responded firmly, sprawling down on the sofa and pulling Ishita on to his lap. "Ruhi apne kamre mein so rahi hai. Now it's time got you to look after Ruhi's papa"
"Lekin Raman, hum kitna fun kar rahen theh, sab ke saath"
"Accha, un sab ke saath fun karna hai, aur apne pati ke saath nahi?"
"Aap bhi toh join kar sakte theh na?" She pouted prettily at him.
Raman ran his hands softly down his wife's bare arms. " mujhe toh sirf tumhaare saath fun karna hai" he whispered
"Jalte ho sab se?"
"Hmmm" he agreed. "Jalta hoon."
"Is liye jhooth bol kar mujhe yahan bulaya?" She twisted off his lap and knelt by his feet, looking up at him, her hands on his knees
"Mein ne jhooth bola toh bola, lekin tum toh apna waada bhul gayi" he ran one hand through her curls, twirling her hair in his fingers.
"Kaun sa waada?" She slid her hands slowly up his thighs.
He caught her hands with his free hand, the hand in her hair tightening around her curls and jerking her head up to his.
"You promised to dance for me" he whispered, his mouth close to hers. "Bas itna?" she asked, her eyes alive with mischief, her tongue darting out to wet her lips, her hands squirming under his, as she held his gaze defiantly.
"Ishita" his voice deepened with passion as he saw the spark of desire in his wife's eyes. "You've made me wait so long tonight."
She pulled herself out of his grip and stood up in one fluid movement. "But I'm worth waiting for, na Raman?"
"That you are baby" he whispered, as she walked away from him to the wardrobe, and then to the bathroom. He closed his eyes in frustration as desire for her rippled in waves over him. "Damn this paagal madrasan" he thought. " how long can a man wait?"
His thoughts were interrupted by the voice of Marvin Gaye. The sensuous beat of "Sexual Healing" wafted through the air, replacing the instrumental that had been playing, as he slowly opened his eyes. To his surprise, the room was dark, all candles having been extinguished except for two strategically placed by the bed. As his eyes adjusted to the dimness, he made out the silhouette of his wife.
She stood before him, dressed in one of his white shirts, a tie, a hat and high heels. "Stand up" she commanded, laughter echoing in her voice.
"Why?" He asked huskily. " mujhe toh sirf tumhe dekhna hai na"
"You wanted a pole dance didn't you" she replied softly. "Lekin yahan toh pole nahi hai, toh mujhe koi toh cheez chahiye na, jisse mein dance kar sakoon"
"So I'm a pole am I?" He asked suggestively even as he stood up with alacrity.
She threw one arm around his neck and began to sway to the music. "Yes" she whispered. "Stand still. Mein dekhna chahti hoon ki aap kitne resist..." Her words were cut off as he gathered her in his arms. "Nahi kar sakta" he growled, desperately searching for her mouth. She moved out of his arms, warding him off as she continued to the beat of the music
"When I get this feeling I need sexual healing..." She mouthed the lyrics as she took off her hat and threw it at him. He caught it and then gasped as she moved behind him, pressing herself against him, moving in tune with the rhythm of the song as her body tantalisingly touched his.
"Ishita" he muttered in sheer frustration. "Kya kar rahi ho yaar"
She moved in front of him again, unknotting the tie around her neck before throwing it around Raman's waist, pulling him closer.
"Kya kar rahi hoon?" She asked teasingly, inching her face closer to his.
"Enough" her husband had reached the end of his tether. He jerked her to him, covering her teasing lips with his hungry ones. He kissed her hungrily, his hands pulling her body hard against his, caressing her through the soft fabric of her shirt. She was gasping when he finally let her go, her lips swollen and bruised from his onslaught. "What about the dance Raman" she whispered. "Damn the dance" he replied, picking her up in his arms and falling onto their bed with her. He pulled off her shirt, staring with unabashed hunger at her body clad in flimsy lingerie. "Damn the dance" he repeated, huskily this time. " I just want to make love to you jaan."
She chuckled softly as he moved his hands down her curves. "What's so funny?" he asked brusquely, jerking her up so that her softness collided with the hard planes of his body. "Aap kitne der se waada, dance kar rahe theh, aur jab mein waada nibhana chahti hoon, toh karne hi nahi dete ho" she complained, pouting up at him.
"Oh, you can dance. You can dance beneath me, you can dance on top of me, dance any way you like" he growled as he pulled the barely existent lingerie off her, freeing her to his insatiable gaze. "But you'll dance to my tune tonight jaan"
He covered her mouth with his again, his fingers and hands probing and caressing along the length of her pliant form, pulling her to him, moulding her to his body. She writhed beneath him, a sweet agony shooting through her at his weight crushing her, his tongue duelling with hers as his teeth nipped her soft lips, his hands squeezing her softness. "Raman" she whispered. "Raman, I love you" as she surrendered totally to his love.
Part 9A - pg 63
Kabhi Neem Neem Kabhi Shahad Shahad
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