Its year 2183. Date 2nd April.
More than 3 months had passed since my marriage and it still seems like yesterday.
My parents were celebrating their 25th wedding anniversary and had requested the wives of all 3 of their married sons to come to their village to be a part of celebration. It was the first time since my marriage that I was meeting my brothers and I was very excited about it.
As usual, G was late in returning from the hospital and it was quite late night when we reached my parents’ home. As our car entered our drive way, my father came out with a large plate full of lighted lamps. He did aarti of G and we entered our home. Both my Bhabhis having already retired to their bedrooms. I sat on the floor beside G, pressing her legs while Nemo served the dinner. I, Nemo and father ate later with myself eating in the plate of G, finishing her leftovers as well.
G was so tired that she had already slept when I entered the bedroom. I changed in to my nightwear ( A front open gown with only a string keeping both the ends in place so that she may have full access of my body if she happens to awake at night) and slipped alongside her silently.
My sleep was broken when G’s hand crept inside my gown at 4’o’clock in morning. She wanted to make love. I didn’t like being woken up so early but I knew that she is my owner and I don’t have the right to say a “no”. As she removed my gown, my dick sprung to attention. She threw away her T shirt and shorts and started riding me in frenzy. I kept my moans to be minimum since everyone else appeared to be sleeping and soon, G had her climax, myself following immediately afterwards. G rolled over and almost immediately went back to sleep.
I awoke the next morning when Nemo banged on the door. I had again got in to my gown after sex last night but G was sleeping naked, I tried to wake up G but she didn’t want to rise from bed. I picked up her T shirt and shorts from the floor and gave them to the half-awake G to wear. As I opened the door, Nemo entered with a tray containing tea. I took the tray from her hand and virtually pushed him out as he was giggling constantly.
G picked up a cup of tea from the tray as her left hand again crept up in to my gown. I tried to avoid it but G was adamant. Both my breasts got squeezed and pinched in succession while she finished her tea.
G and both the Bhabhis had planned to visit the fields belonging to my mother and all of them left for the fields shortly thereafter. I wore a saree after taking bath and came to the backyard where both my elder brothers, Yashdeep and Vikas were sitting with father and Nemo. All of us were in saree while Nemo was wearing a Salwar kameez.
I have always had an inferiority complex in presence of my brothers. They are more fair, beautiful and smart than me and I am not very talkative too. Yash bhaia was telling mother about the latest developments in his sasural when the discussion turned towards who among all the three married brothers is more lucky. Father also wanted to be a part of the discussion but he had a lot of chores to do like preparing the lunch and washing clothes. Bhaia gave an idea that all of us shall bring the clothes of ourselves and our wives and simultaneously wash the clothes and have discussion too. Father also liked the idea and all of us went to our rooms to get the clothes. Yash and Vikas bhaia also brought the clothes of their infant daughters.
Yash bhaia said that he was the most lucky since he had been married for more than 5 years and Bhabhi had never beaten him. “I was very afraid since Mom used to beat Dad daily but luckily she loves me a lot and even when I do some mistake, it’s only a slap or two” Said Yash bhaia.
“Your Mom also loves me a lot” said father, immediately coming to the defense of Mom. “But he had to create an example in front of all of you so that you boys may learn to respect your wives when you get married”.
Vikas bhaia said that he is the luckiest one. “We are a joint family. Whenever she returned from office and I used to bring tea for her, my father in law insisted that I should sit on the floor at her feet and press her legs. It was very humiliating for me to press her legs in presence of the whole family so she started taking the evening tea in our bed room. I still press her legs but the humiliation is not there. She really loves me a lot”.
“As I was telling Monu last time” father said almost angrily, “It’s an honor for a man to press the legs of his wife and you should never feel humiliated by this. I shall see to it that during today’s lunch, you shall press her legs and do it in presence of your Bhabhi and Garima ji”. Nemo started giggling again and Vikas bhaia threw a towel at him.
“Why are you silent Monu?” Yash bhaia asked. “You also tell us something about your luck”. I was washing G’s T shirt and didn’t even look up. “Must be tired bhaia” teased Vikas bhaia. “He was busy even at 4 AM. His bangles were making a lot of noise early morning”. My face turned red with shame.
Father was examining my heap of clothes and suddenly he started rebuking me, “You boys never listen to me. I had told you that you should always wash the night wear of your wife daily even if it is not dirty. Where is her Kurta and Lungi?” “She does not wear Kurta and Lungi Dad. She wears T shirt and shorts at night and I wash them daily” I replied.
Suddenly there was an awkward silence. Father broke it by asking Nemo to go and bring tea for all of us. It was clear that he didn’t want to discuss something in presence of his unmarried son. As Nemo departed, Vikas bhaia asked “How can she make love to you if she is wearing shorts. My wife wears a lungi so that she may take me inside her anytime”. “She takes it off” Said I, my face crimson red with shame. “But a wife always remains fully clothed while making love to her husband, who is fully nude. This is the universal custom. How else is she going to remind her husband that she is his owner and he is a slave to her.” Said Yash bhaia this time. “I have no illusions bhaia”, said I. “I know that my place is at her feet and she is my owner but never during the last three months, she has ever reminded me that. She treats me like a husband, not a slave.”
There was a few minutes of uncomfortable silence after which Dad stood up, kissed my forehead and declared, “He is the luckiest one”.
Suddenly doorbell rang. G and Bhabhis had returned. The luckiest one and the not so lucky ones, all ran to place their foreheads at the feet of their respective wives.