The Date at the Market Street

As we stroll through the bustling night market, the sounds of hawkers and the chatter of shoppers fill the air. This late in the evening, the market is alive with couples and families, out to enjoy the evening and shop for bargains. Raghav Ji walks side-by-side with me, his presence a comforting shield amidst the sea of strangers.

Being an Indian woman, I'm accustomed to the stares and glances that come with being in public. However, tonight, the attention feels different. The stares are more intense, more predatory, and I can't help but feel like a target in a crowded arena. The revealing nature of my outfit, a result of Raghav Ji's earlier actions, draws even more attention to my body. I stick close to him, seeking safety in his proximity.

Raghav Ji leans in, his lips brushing against my ear as he whispers, "See, Bhabhi Ji, how charming you look when you let yourself go."

I glance at him, my eyes reflecting my discomfort at the situation. "But Bhai Saab, I don't know," I say, my voice barely audible over the noise of the market. "The stares make me feel like a piece of meat."

He pulls me closer, his arm encircling my waist possessively. "Don't worry, Bhabhi Ji," he murmurs, his breath warm against my skin. "With me here they won't dare to come close."

Gaining confidence from Raghav Ji's reassuring words, I decide to ignore the stares and focus on the moment. We meander through the market, taking in the sights and sounds, when we find ourselves in front of a small trinket store. A delicate locket catches my eye, and I can't help but be drawn to it.

Raghav Ji approaches the teenage boy running the stall and asks him to show us the locket. The young vendor, recognizing an opportunity to make a sale, becomes subservient and eager to please. He presents the locket with great enthusiasm and begins promoting other items within the store.

Raghav Ji helps me try on the locket, his fingers brushing against my skin as he fastens it around my neck. The simple pendant, adorned with intricate carvings, rests just above my cleavage. The teenage vendor tries to maintain a professional demeanor, but it's clear he's struggling to keep his eyes averted from the tantalizing view.

Seeing the innocent, hesitant stare of the teenage vendor, I can't help but smile. His shyness and inexperience make his gaze feel more pure and honest compared to the leering looks I've been receiving throughout the night.

Raghav Ji notices my smile and suspects I'm amused by the boy's reaction. He decides to tease me further by turning to the vendor and asking, "How does the locket look?" He points at it and also gestures towards my cleavage, emphasizing the way the pendant accentuates my assets.

The teen gulps audibly, his eyes locked onto the enticing view. "Of course, sir, it looks great on Mem Saab," he manages to stammer, his voice strained with barely concealed desire.

Feeling pity for the boy's plight, I step on Raghav Ji's foot, signaling him to stop. Turning to the vendor, I say firmly, "We'll take it. Please pack it up." As I remove the locket, I can feel Raghav Ji's smirk growing wider.

The transaction complete, we leave the stall, the locket now securely tucked away in its packaging.

As we walk away from the stall, I turn to Raghav Ji, my curiosity piqued. "Why did you need to tease the poor boy like that?" I ask, my voice tinged with concern.

Raghav Ji grins, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "That wasn't a boy, Bhabhi Ji, but a man in the making," he says, pointing to the way the vendor's eyes had lingered on me. "And I could see the desire in your eyes, too. I never knew you had a preference for younger men."

His words catch me off guard, and I elbow him playfully, a blush spreading across my cheeks. "What do you mean, younger? I was just hoping he'd be quick," I say, my shyness evident in my voice.

Raghav Ji's smile widens, his voice dropping to an even lower, more seductive tone. "I don't have a problem with you inviting the boy, Bhabhi Ji. In fact, I'd love to see you bouncing on him as you take his virginity."

As Raghav Ji's seductive words wash over me, I can't help but feel a current running through my body, ending in a sudden, intense wetness between my legs. It's as if his deep, suggestive tone and the taboo nature of his proposal have awakened a primal desire within me.

I manage to shake off the overwhelming emotions and look back at him, my voice steady but with a hint of defensiveness. "Bhai Saab, don't joke like that. I'm not a slut," I say firmly, maintaining my composure. "Sleeping with you was my limit. Can we continue?"

Raghav Ji smirks, saying nothing more about the topic. We continue our journey through the market, shopping and enjoying the cool sweetness of ice cream. This time, as he snaps photos of me, they're more normal and less provocative.

As we make our way back through the market, I notice Raghav Ji pulling me aside to talk to the teenage vendor once again. Despite my protests, he engages in hushed conversation with the boy, leaving me puzzled and slightly suspicious.

After a few minutes, Raghav Ji returns with a satisfied smile on his face. "The boy's name is Amir, and he's a local," he reveals, but doesn't offer any more details about their exchange.

We move towards the car, and as we settle in, Raghav Ji turns to me with a mischievous glint in his eye. "Bhabhi Ji, what do you want to eat tonight? Indian, Chinese, Italian or .......?" He pauses, pointing teasingly towards his groin.

I can't help but laugh at his brazen suggestion. Smirking, I quip, "Maybe for dessert."

His smile widens, filled with hunger and desire. "Perhaps we can start with dessert," he purrs seductively, before speeding off in the car.