Kavita Sharma 52 saal ki thi. Famous erotic novelist. Log unhe “Desi Desire Queen” kehte. Interviews mein soft saree, bindi, respect. Ghar ke andar alag aurat.
Naya novel ka title unhone Hinglish mein rakha tha:
“College Ki Baby-Sitter Apne Boss Ko Andar Tak Pehchaan Gayi”
Research ke liye unhone decide kiya — feel karna hai, sirf sochna nahi. Feel unke ghar mein hi mil gaya.
Beta Rohan, 32. Bhanja Arjun, 31. Dono khush the ke unki garam mami “research” kar rahi hai.
Pehla scene kitchen se.
Cream silk saadi. Blouse tight. Kaante jaan-bujh ke dheele. Pallu kandhe pe. Chai ubal rahi thi. Kavita counter pe jhuki.
Rohan peeche aaya. Haath blouse ke kaante pe. Ek khola. Dusra. Teesra. Blouse aage se khul gaya. Haath andar. Nangi chuchi. Masli. Nipple ungliyon mein dabaya jab tak pathar na ho jaaye.
“Maa, yeh wahi novel hai na? College Ki Baby-Sitter Apne Boss Ko Andar Tak Pehchaan Gayi. Toh pehchaan.”
Arjun pallu kheench ke fek diya. Zubaan chuchi pe. Choosa. Daant se kaata. Doosri chuchi haath se.
Petticoat upar. Panty side. Rohan ki do ungliyan choot mein. Geeli pehle se. Chap-chap. Thumb clit pe ghis-ta.
Phone. Pati.
Kavita ne uthaya, awaaz seedhi. “Haanji… kitchen… chai… tum late ho kya?”
Call ke dauran Rohan teen ungli. Arjun lund munh ke aage. Kavita ne honth khole. Lund gale tak. Pati meeting ki baat karta raha. Kavita “hmm… haan… theek…” karti rahi, aankhen bhari, thook latakta.
Call cut. Phone patka.
Rohan ne uthaya counter pe. Taange phaadi. Saadi utaari nahi. Bina condom. Lund choot pe ragda, phir ek hi dhakke mein andhar tak.
“Ahh… beta… poora ghusaa… Mami ki choot… tight…”
Rohan choda. Kitchen hilne lagi. Bartan khanakne lage. Arjun munh mein. Dono badle — kabhi beta andar, bhanja gale mein; kabhi ulta.
Rohan andar hi jhad gaya. Garam dhaar. Kavita ne pet pe feel kiya. Tapka saadi ke beech se.
Arjun: “Mami munh kholo.”
Kavita jhuki. Jo lund abhi bete ki jagah se nikla tha, usko choosa. Arjun bhi munh mein giraaya. Kavita ne nigal liya. Thooka nahi.
Saadi par safed daag. Pallu chipka. Blouse ke kaante tut-te. Choot se cum beh-ta petticoat pe.
Kavita ne saans leke kaha, “Kal likhungi yeh scene. Title ke hisaab se. Andar tak pehchaan.”
Doosri raat terrace.
Hawa. Neeche sheher ke batti. Kavita usi saadi mein. Kaante khule. Chuchiyan nangi hawa mein.
Khade-khade. Rohan peeche se pakad ke ghusaaya. Gehra. Har dhakke pe chuchiyan hilti. Arjun saamne, munh mein, baal pakad ke.
“Mami ki ijjat utar rahi hai kothi pe,” Arjun ne kaha. “College wali baby-sitter nahi. Ghar wali randi mami.”
Rohan kaan mein: “Bina condom. Roz. Pregnant suspicion. Novel mein likhna Maa. Bete ka hoga ya bhanje ka.”
Kavita aa gayi khade-khade. Tange kaampi. Rohan nikaala nahi. Andar hi doosri baar chodta raha, phir bhar diya.
Arjun ghutnon pe. Bete ka cum chaata, mami ki phat-ti choot chaati, phir khada hoke andar daala. Doosra load.
Taange milti nahi. Cum taangon se neeche. Saadi kamar tak bheegi.
Pati ka call. Terrace se uthaya. “Haan… hawa kha rahi hoon…”
Neeche Rohan ki ungli phir andar, cum ko dhakelti. Kavita ki awaaz mein kaamp.
Teejra din sheesha.
Full length mirror. Kavita ne kaha tha — khud dekhna hai. Research.
Saadi, bindi, haar, makeup. Jaise function.
Rohan ne pallu hataya. Arjun ne saare kaante khole. Nangi chuchiyan sheeshe mein. Badi, daant ke nishaan, nipple khade.
Rohan peeche se ghusa. Sheeshe mein dikhta: 52 saal ki writer, munh khula, bete ka lund andar-bahar, bhanja chuchi dabaata, kabhi gale mein thook ke lund deta.
“Bol Maa. Sheeshe mein dekh ke bol. Novel ka dialogue.”
“Beta meri choot mein… bhanja munh mein… dono chod rahe… College Ki Baby-Sitter nahi… ghar ki mami… ijjat nahi bachi…”
Rohan baal pakad ke tez. Mirror hilta. Arjun chehre pe ragad-ta, phir munh mein giraata. Kavita nigalti, sheeshe mein apna cum-bhara munh dekhti.
Rohan andar jhadta. Nikaalta. “Chaato Maa. Apni choot se nikalta hua. Research.”
Kavita jhukti. Sheeshe mein dikhta — woh apni hi chut se tapakte cum ko choos rahi, bete ka lund saaf kar rahi.
Arjun doggy. Sheeshe ke saamne. Kavita apni hilti chuchiyan, apni gaand pe bhanje ke haath, apna khula munh dekhti.
Do load aur. Ek andar. Ek peeth aur saadi pe safed.
Phir yeh roz ka ho gaya.
Subah kitchen. Chai ke bahane. Kabhi sirf ungli aur munh. Kabhi poora chod. Aksar pati ke call par. Kavita “haanji meeting theek hai” kehti aur gale mein lund hota, choot mein ungli ya lund.
Shaam terrace, sofa, sheesha.
Kabhi dono ek saath try — ek choot mein, doosra dabav, stretch, Kavita rone lagti maza se.
Kabhi sirf saadi pehne, panty kabhi nahi.
Kabhi blouse sirf latakta, kaante toot chuke.
Period ek hafte late. Test nahi. Kavita notes mein likhti: pregnant suspicion — bete ka ya bhanje ka, dono andar girate hain, main rokti nahi. Har load ke baad haath pet pe. Rohan kehta “mera hoga.” Arjun kehta “mera.” Kavita kehti “jo bhi ho, nikaalna mat. Andar.”
Ek raat usne draft sunaaya, Hinglish mein, jaise novel mein jaayega:
Boss ne baby-sitter ko kitchen counter pe uthaya, saadi utaare bina, bina condom, pati ke phone par ungli ki, pallu hata ke chuchi choosi, munh mein giraya, nigalwaya, kothi pe khade khade choda, sheeshe ke saamne ijjat utari, saadi par safed daag, tight choot ko apni bana liya.
Sunaate hi Rohan ne usi raat wahi sab phir se kiya — tez, gehra, gale tak, andar tak. Arjun ne baal pakad ke itna daala ke aankhon se paani aa gaya. “Nigal Mami. Poora. Book mein yeh line rahegi.”
Usne nigala.
Ek Sunday subah teeno kitchen. Kavita saadi, panty nahi, do kaante pehle se khule. Counter pe leti. Rohan munh mein. Arjun choot mein.
Pati ka message: do ghante late.
Rohan: “Do ghante. Maa ko do ghante pehchaan.”
Badalte rahe. Kavita ab khali ghar mein control nahi karti. “Chod do… dono… bhar do… pregnant kar do… meri choot ko apni rakh lo… novel ka last chapter yeh hai…”
Rohan andar jhada, nikaala nahi, soft hote hue phir hard, usi choot mein doosra. Arjun munh se nikal ke usi mein teesra.
Kavita counter se nahi uthi. Taange khuli. Tin load tapakte. Saadi chipki. Chuchi nangi. Munh khula.
Usne phone uthaya. Pati ko voice note: “Ghar aa jaana. Khana banaungi.”
Neeche Rohan ki ungli cum ko andar dhakelti rahi.
Rohan kaan mein: “Aaj raat sheeshe ke saamne dono ek saath jo ho sake.”
Arjun chuchi dabaata: “Kal terrace. Khade. Poori raat. Title ke hisaab se — andar tak pehchaan.”
Kavita ne aankh band ki.
“Pehle chodo. Phir likhungi. Book ka naam wahi rahega — College Ki Baby-Sitter Apne Boss Ko Andar Tak Pehchaan Gayi. Andar wala sach alag hai. Ghar wali mami, beta, bhanja.”
Pallu floor pe. Kaante tut-te. Choot se mil-a hua cum taangon pe beh-ta.
Research khatam nahi hui thi. Novel chhap-ega. Saadi pehen ke interview degi. Raat ko yahi kothi, yahi do lund, bina rubber, andar tak.
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