Bulbul sighed as she leaned against the window. Her husband had been away on a 'business trip' for the past week. She was beginning to suspect that his "business meetings" were not entirely work related. After all, he had been calling her less and less often, and whenever he did, he always sounded distant and distracted."
She shook her head, trying to shrug off her concerns. She had just been feeling lonely lately, that's all. There was nothing to worry about. She was just being paranoid. Besides, her son Gaurav would be home from school soon, and his cheerful presence would lift her spirits.
Gaurav come and go for sleep after dinner
But as the door swung open, she froze. Standing on the doorstep was her neighbor, Uncle Rajan. He was a middle-aged man with a potbelly and a leering smile. His eyes traveled up and down Bulbal's body, making her feel a little uncomfortable. "Hey there, Bulbal," he said, his voice gruff.
"I came to ask a favor," Rajan said, stepping closer. He was still ogling her, making her feel even more uncomfortable. "Can I come in for a moment?"
Rajan walked further into the house, making himself at home. He plopped down on the couch, crossing his legs and looking up at Bulbal with a smirk. "Nice place you got here."
Rajan didn't seem deterred by her cold demeanor. He lounged back on the couch, still ogling her up and down. "Come on, don't be like that," he said, his voice a little more insistent. "It's just a little conversation. We're friends, aren't we?"
Bulbal was the definition of a femme fatale. She was confident, daring, and unapologetic in her sexuality. She knew how to tease and tantalize, leaving men begging for more. But beneath her sultrish demeanor, there was a strength and intelligence that commanded respect.
She was also a bit of a "b" word - bossy, brazen, and downright bitchy. She was used to getting what she wanted, and she wasn't ashamed of using her feminine wiles to get it.
Bulbul's husband had never really satisfied her in the bedroom, and she knew it. It wasn't his fault, really. He was just a bit... uninspired. He wasn't bad looking, and he certainly wasn't a bad man; he just didn't seem to have the same passion and desire that she did. But she had needs, and sometimes those needs had to be met elsewhere
It had been that way ever since her arranged marriage. She was expected to be a good wife, a good mother. But inside, she was hungry—desperately hungry—for passion, for touch, for raw, unfiltered pleasure that her husband could never give. So she took it where she could find it—in stolen glances with neighbors and lingering touches at family gatherings… even the odd encounter when Gaurav stayed late at school.
Bulbul wasn't ashamed. Why should she be? She owned her body and used it exactly how she wanted—like a secret queen ruling over silent desires.
So when Rajan leaned forward on the couch again, his voice dropping low into something darker than before—"You know you want this," he said slowly—"you've looked at me like you want to eat me alive"—she didn't flinch.
Instead... she smiled.
A slow, dangerous curve of red lips.
"Maybe I have," Bulbul purred. "But unlike some men around here who talk big but can't deliver…" She let her gaze dip pointedly below his beltline and back up with icy amusement. "…I actually know what real satisfaction looks like."
Without another word, Bulbul climbed onto the couch—onto *him*—straddling his lap with a confidence that made his pulse spike. Her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, pulling him close until her lips brushed his ear. "You've been watching me," she whispered, hot and slow. "Now you get to feel what you've been fantasizing about."
Her mouth curved into a pleased smile, and she obliged gladly. She shifted on his lap, grinding harder against him, watching as his eyes darkened with pure lust. Her hands skimmed up his chest, slipping beneath his shirt to feel the warm, bare skin of his stomach. His muscles contracted at her touch, and he let out another guttural moan. "Gods, woman," he breathed. "You're killing me."
"Mmm… you taste like trouble," she teased, her tongue swirling in a slow, sensual dance just below his Adam's apple.
Rajan shuddered, his fingers digging into her flesh. "Bulbul…"
"Shhh," she hushed him with a soft bite to the neck. "Let me take care of you."
And suddenly—without warning—a small gasp echoed from the hallway.
Both froze.
Eyes snapped toward the archway leading to the corridor.
There—half-hidden behind the wall—stood Gaurav.
His wide eyes were locked on them. His face pale. His hands clenched into fists at his sides. He'd seen everything—the way she moved on Rajan's lap, how close their mouths were, how shamelessly *into* it she looked…
A beat of silence passed before Bulbul broke away slowly and stood up with unnerving calmness. She smoothed her skirt and looked at him—not with guilt or panic—but cold amusement curling at her lips.
"Well?" Her voice was cool as steel. "You wanted to see real sex?"
She tilted her head toward Rajan still dazed beneath her—and smiled darkly at Gaurav's trembling form.
"Now you know why I don't need *you* for it."
"Because *you*," she said, her voice slicing like a blade, "*can't give me what I want.*"
Another step.
His breath came in short, panicked bursts. He wanted to run. To disappear. But his feet felt nailed to the floor.
"You're just a boy," she continued coldly. "Weak. Inexperienced." She glanced back at Rajan—still panting on the couch—and smirked again as if sharing a secret with him. "*He*, on the other hand… knows how to make me scream."
Gaurav flinched like he'd been struck.
His fists trembled at his sides, jaw clenched so tight it hurt. He opened his mouth—to say what? An apology? A threat? A plea for her love?
But nothing came out.
Instead… tears pricked behind his eyes—not of sadness, but something far darker.
Something dangerous.
And in that silence—the air thick with shame and betrayal—Bulbul laughed softly... as if this were all perfectly normal...
As if mothers always humiliated their sons…
While they prepared for round two with their neighbor.
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*End of Chapter One.*