The music from downstairs drifted faintly through the walls.

Dhol beats.

Laughter..

Someone yelling at the caterer.

Someone else yelling at the person yelling at the caterer.

A perfectly normal Indian wedding.

Arjun, however, sat in his room, dressed in a peach kurta and pyjamas staring at his phone without actually looking at it.

His sherwani (a traditional Indian mens outfit worn by Indian groomsman on their weddings) hung neatly on a stand nearby. The family photographers had already knocked on his door three times for his solo shots.

His wedding was less than two hours away.

And he felt like he was about to walk into an exam he hadn’t prepared for.

A knock sounded at the door.

Before he could look up, the door opened.

His bhabhi, Payal, stepped inside (Sister in Law, his elder brother’s wife).

“Of course,” she said folding her arms. “Yahan chupe ho.” (“This is where you’re hiding”)

Arjun managed a weak smile.

“Bach raha hoon.” (“Trying to save a moment.”)

“Bach rahe ho?”she laughed. “Aaj shaadi hai tumhari! Ab bhaag bhi nahi sakte.” (Trying to save yourself? You can’t even run.. Its your wedding today!)

She closed the door behind her and walked inside.

Payal looked effortlessly elegant.

She dressed in a luxurious champagne gold saree, draped elegantly over her body. Made of fine silk and zari work, she paired it with sequined pallu making it semi-sheer.

Her figure was stunning — naturally full 34D bust that would droop naturally under their weight, presently uplifted by the tight fitted boat-neck blouse, tasteful cleavage on display; a slim toned waist that she maintained with regular Yoga and Pilates; and gently rounded hips that swayed sensually in that well hugging saree.

She wore a delicate diamond necklace that rested just above her breasts, matching it with earrings that dangled from her ears. Multiple thin diamond bracelets adorned both wrists and a stunning diamond ring sat elegantly on her finger.

Perfect Indian Bahu dressed for her devars wedding.

Payal sat beside him on the sofa.

“Okay,” she said. “Tell me.”

“Kya” (What?) Arjun said simply

“Tension kis baat kit hai?” (What are you tense about?)

“Nothing.”

“Arjun”

“No, seriously. Nothing.”

She stared at him.

He stared back.

Five seconds.

Ten.

Fifteen.

Finally, he sighed back.

“Bas..” (Its just that..)

“Bas kya?” (What is it?) she pressed.

“Pata nahi.” (Dont know)

A softer expression crossed her face.

“Acha” (Oh yeah?)

Downstairs, another burst of music echoed through the house.

She leaned back comfortably.

“You know,” she said, “tumhare bhai bhi exactly aise hi behave kar rahe the.”

Arjun laughed, despite himself.

“Impossible. He’s a pure alpha.”

“Bilkul possible.” ( Totally possible) she replied.

“Bhai? Aur nervous?” (My brother? And nervous?)

“Very.”

“No chance..”

She grinned.

“Wedding se pehle bathroom mein lock ho gaye the.”

Arjun blinked.

“What?…”

“No way.. I would’ve lnown about this.”

“True story.”

“You’re lying”

“I’m not!”

They both laughed.

The tension eased slightly.

For a moment.

Then it returned.

Payal noticed it immediately.

“You love Juhi, right?” (Juhi is his bride to be)

Arjun nodded.

“Obviously.”

“Then?”

“I don’t know.”

he rubbed his forehead.

“What if things change?”

“They will.”

“What?”

“They always do.”

“That isn’t helping.”

She smiled.

“Good marriages aren’t built because people know exactly what they’re doing.”

“Then?”

“They’re buit because people figure it out together.”

For a few moments he simply listened.

Or at least, he tried to.

Then his gaze drifted.

Accidentally.

Not to her face.

Not to the diamond earrings that would sparkle occasionally in the yellow light of his room.

Not even to the diamond necklace.

His attention settled lower.

Towards the neckline of the blouse.

The designer saree was tasteful, sophisticated, exactly what one would expect from an upper class Indian Bahu at a high profile family wedding. But the boat-neck of the blouse revealed noticeable cleavage now and his gaze settled on the valley between the inviting swell of her breasts.

His eyes lingered.

A second.

Then another.

Far longer than a casual glance should have lasted.

He really wasn’t processing what she she was saying anymore.

He was aware f her voice.

Aware of the words.

But not actually listening.

Then realisation hit.

He looked away immediately.

A little too quickly, perhaps.

Payal noticed.

She had spent enough years around younger brother in laws, cousins, family friends, and nervous men in general to recognise that particular look.

For a moment, amusement tugged at the corner of her mouth.

But she didn’t call him out.

She kept talking as if nothing had happened.

“Liten to me.”

“Hmm” Arjun hmmed.

“Tum overthink kar rahe ho.” (You’re overthinking.)

“Hmm.”

“And you’re doing it again.”

“Hmm.”

Arjuns response had become automatic now.

She paused.

His attention clearly wasn’t entirely on the conversation anymore.

Her eyebrow lifted slightly.

Now, he seemed almost excessively focused on maintaining eye contact, as though he were consciously preventing his gaze from wandering again.

But they wandered nevertheless.

The effort itself was amusing.

Payal suppressed a smile.

Interesting, she thought.

Very interesting.

She continued speaking.

“The world isn’t ending Arjun. Its just marriage.”

“Hmmm.”

“Arjun?”

“Hmmm”

“Are you even listening?”

His eyes snapped upto hers instantly.

“Yes.”

“Really.”

“Yes.”

“What did i just say?”

“……….”

Silence.

A beat paused.

Then another.

The look on his face told her everything.

Payal burst out laughing.

“Oh my god.”

Arjun groaned and covered his face.

“Please don’t start.”

“Oh I’m absolutely starting”

“Bhabhi please…”

“You weren’t listening to a word I said. Instead…”

“I was!!”

“You were staring into space?”

“I was thinking.”

“Sure”

She folded her arms, still fighting a grin.

“Very deep thoughts, apparently.”

The color rising in his face only made her more certain she’d hit the mark.

And that made her laugh even harder.

“Fantastic,” Arjun muttered. “Exactly what I needed today.”

“What? A rality check?”

“No. To be roasted by own family.”

“Oh please. If your cousins saw this, you’d never hear the end of it.”

His eyes widened.

“Dont you dare tell them!!”

Now she was openly laughing.

“Relax. Your secret is safe with me.”

“What secret?”

“The fact that you’re completely losing your mind.”

“I’m not losing my mind.”

He covered his face.

“This is humiliating.”

“It should be.”

She laughed again.

For the first time all morning, he looked genuinely embarrassed instead of anxious.

Which, she realised, was actually an improvement.

The nervous energy had shifted.

The panic had broken.

He wasn’t spiralling any more.

He was simply flustered.

And that, at least, was manageable.

Payal shook her head.

“Honestly”

“What?”

“You’re getting married in two hours.”

“Thanks for reminding me.”

“Yet you’re here behaving like a sixteen year old!”

He groaned again.

“Can we never discuss this?”

“No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

They both laughed.

The atmosphere felt much lighter now.

Warmer.

More normal.

Outside, someone shouted that the groom is needed downstairs in thirty minutes.

Neither moved immediately.

For a brief moment, they simply sat there, sharing the quiet.

Then Payal stood.

She adjusted her saree.

“Come on”

Arjun looked up.

“The family needs their groom.”

He exhaled slowly.

The anxiety was still there, but not as overwhelming.

Payal paused near the door, then turned back towards him.

“Arjun you can’t go downstairs like this. Your sherwani is still on the stand, and you’re still sitting here in your pyjamas looking like you’re going to run away.”

She walked closer again, the soft jingle of her bracelets accompanied each step.

“I’m fine.” he muttered.

“You’re not. Stand up.”

When he didn’t move immediately, she stepped right infront of him and offered her hand.

Her voice softened, a mix of affection and gentle authority.

“Come on. Let me help you get ready before your mother comes here and starts shouting.”

Arjun took her hand and stood.

They were close now- close enough that he could smell the faint scent of her perfume, something warm and floral.

Payal reached for the sherwani on the stand, lifting it carefully.

“Arms up,” she said, holding the heavy embroidered jacket open for him.

He slipped his arms into the sleeves. As she adjusted the front, her fingers brushed lightly against his chest while she straightened the fabric. The champagne gold saree shifted with her movement, the deep neckline of her blouse offering the same glimpses he had tried so hard to ignore just a few moments earlier.

“You’re really nervous, aren’t you?” she asked quietly, her hands smoothing the shoulders of the sherwani.

“A little.”

“More than a little.”

She smiled, her eyes meeting his.

“Your heart is beating so fast I can almost hear it.”

Arjun swallowed.

Payal’s gaze dropped to his waist. The pyajama bottoms he was wearing were still loose, the naada ( drawstring) tied in a simple knot.

She clicked her tongue softly.

“This won’t do. The sherwani is long but if the naada is messy it’ll show in the pictures.”

Before he could say anything, she reached down. Her fingers found the loose string at the front of his pyjama bottoms. She gave it a gentle tug, loosening the knot with practiced ease. The back of her hand brushed lightly against his lower stomach as she pulled the naada slightly to adjust and re-tie it neatly.

“Relax,” she murmured, voice low.

“I’m just making sure everything sits properly.”

Her touch lingered a second longer than necessary. The pallu of her saree brushed against his leg as she stood close, focused on the task. Arjun’s breath caught.

And Payal noticed immediately. She looked up at him through her lashes, a small, knowing smile playing on her lips.

“Better?” she asked, her fingers still lightly holding the tied naada.

Arjun shifted his weight, suddenly very aware of how close she was standing. The warmth of her body, the faint scent of her floral perfume, and the very visible, very tempting cleavage still within his sight were having more affecting him more than he was letting on. As she gave on final gentle tug on the drawstring to straighten it, the loose fabric of his pyjama bottoms shifted.

The outline of his growing erection became clearly visible — firm, unmistakeable, pressing against the front, and forming a tent.

He froze.

Payal’s fingers were still hovering near his drawstring when her eyes dropped downward for a moment.

She didn’t pull away immediately. Instead, she remained exactly where she was, close enough that the pallu of her saree would still brush against him occasionally.

A quiet beat passed between them.

When she looked back up at his face, there was a new glint in her eyes-something between amusement and surprise.

“Arjun…” she said softly, her voice lower than before.

He felt another heat rush to his face.

“Bhabhi.. I’m so sorry… I didn’t.. I wasn’t…”

She tilted her head slightly,

“Shh. It;s okay.”

Her gaze flicked down once more, taking in the obvious bulge tenting the front of his pyjamas, before returning to his eyes. Instead of stepping back, she stepped closer.

“You’re really worked up today, huh?” she murmured, a teasing edge slipping into her voice.

Her fingers lightly traced the naada again, this time more deliberately, the back of her hand brushing against the hardness on purpose.

“All this nervousness… and this is what it’s doing to you?”

Arjun’s breath hitched. He couldn’t find words. His body was betraying him completely, the erection now even more harder and prominent after her slight touch.

Payal didn’t rush. She kept her hand there longer for a second, lightly adjusting the naada that needed no adjustment, just to feel what she wanted to feel, clearly aware of what she was touching. Her breasts pressed subtly against the front of his sherwani as she leaned closer to speak into his ear.

“Relax,” she whispered. “It’s just us right now. Everybody’s busy downstairs.”

He looked at her again, properly this time. Her champagne gold saree hugged her figure nicely, draping over her rounded hips, accentuating her narrow waist before rising up to her wondrous natural bust encased in that tight blouse.

She toyed with the naada, while her fingers grazed along the length of his erection through the thin material of his pyjamas.

“Though..” she added with a soft knowing smile, “it looks like getting you fully dressed might be a little more complicated than I thought… And looks like your body isn’t as nervous as your mind.”

Her fingers lingered.

Arjun’s chest tightened.

“Payal Bhabhi…”

“Hmm?”

“We should’nt be doing this.”

“Probably not.”

The simple honesty of the answer caught him off gaurd.

For a second neither moved.

Then her hand brushed lightly over the bulge again.

“Payal Bha…”

“You’re shaking”

“Because this is insane.”

A small smile touched her lips.

“And yet.. you still haven’t asked me to stop.”

A beat.

“Do you want me to stop Arjun?”

“No”

The curve of her smile more prominent now.

“Still overthinking everything?”

He laughed once, breathlessly.

“How am I supposed to think at all right now?”

“Good point.”

Her fingers curled gently around his cock through the fabric.

“God.”

Arjun closed his eyes.

“That good?”

“Bhabhi…”

The word came out more like a warning than a title.

Payal stepped even closer, leaving no meaningful gap between them.

“What?”

“You know exactly what you’re doing.”

“I do.”

The admission sent another rush of heat through him.

He had always noticed his bhabhi’s beauty, and elegance. But never had he expected this.

He opened his eyes.

“Bhabhi, if someone comes upstairs-“

“They won’t.”

“You sound very confident.”

“I am.”

Her voice remained infuriatingly calm.

Meanwhile his heart felt like it was trying to break through his ribs as he exhaled sharply, his hands instinctively gripping the edges of his still open sherwani.

Payal’s touch grew more confident now.

She gave the naada a slow tug, completely undoing the perfect knot she had tied just a few minutes ago. The pyjama loosened and slid down his legs, neither of them made any efforts to keep it from pooling around his ankles.

She then slipped of the sherwani of his shoulders, letting it fall backwards safely on the bed. Arjun willingly pulled his kurta upward, tucking it under his chin while tilting his head slightly to meet her eyes.

Payal stared openly now. Satisfied smile curved her lips as she took in the sight of his hardened cock straining urgently against the fabric of his briefs.

Without hesitation, she hooked her manicured fingers into the waistband of his briefs and slowly pulled them down his thighs. His thick, uncircumcised cock sprang free, heavy and throbbing. The smooth foreskin was partially retracted, revealing the swollen head peeking out, slick with precum.

Her soft, warm fingers finally wrapped around his bare erection and she let out a quiet hum as she felt his full length — pulsating under her fingers, unmistakably eager.

“So hard already..” she teased, “And just from helping you get dressed?”

“Bhabhi..”

His voice cracked.

She paused briefly.

“You can tell me to stop.”

The words hung between them.

Arjun simply stared at her.

He should have told her to stop.

Every rational thought in his head screamed that he should.

Instead, he whispered:

“I can’t.”

Something softened in her expression.

For a moment she looked at him, observing his micro expressions.

Then, her fingers make the first move.

She didn’t rush. Instead, she held him gently, letting him feel the weight of her palm as she gave the first long, experimental stroke from base to tip.

Arjun groaned.

“Bhenchod…”

“Language.”

He actually laughed.

A strained, disbelieving laugh.

“Seriously?”

“I’m still your bhabhi.”

“You’re really choosing now to act like one.”

That earned a genuine laugh from her.

As she moved her hand again, slow and deliberate, Arjun dropped his head back.

Her thumb circled lazily over the slick head, spreading the precum along his shaft. The soft jingle of the bracelets accompanied every motion, a quiet, rhythmic reminder of who was touching him — his elegant, composed bhabhi, dressed for his wedding.

The contrast was dizzying — her delicate hands, moving with such intimate confidence.

His breathing immediately became uneven.

Payal watched his every reaction.

Every twitch.

Every shudder.

Every failed attempt to maintain control.

“You’re incredibly easy to read, you know that?”

“I’m trying very hard not to say something stupid.”

“That bad?”

“Much Worse.”

She smiled.

“Poor thing.”

“Please don’t call me that.”

“Why?”

“Because it somehow makes this more embarrassing.”

Payal laughed softly.

“I think we’re past embarrassing.”

He couldn’t argue with that.

Her pace remained unhurried.

Almost cruelly patient.

Long gliding movements that explored every inch of his throbbing length. Sometimes she would pause at the top, squeezing gently, her thumb teasing the sensitive underside. Other times she would slide all the way down, cupping him lightly before drawing back up again.

“Payal..”

“Hmm?”

“You’re enjoying this more than I am?”

“A little more”

Arjun groaned.

“Atleast you’re honest.”

“I am always honest.”

She leaned closer.

“You’re doing better, though.”

“What?”

“Breathing”

He laughed again, despite himself.

“You were tracking my breathing?”

“I was.”

“That’s terrifying.”

“It’s caring.”

“That’s not caring.”

“It absolutely is.”

As her hand continued its steady rhythm, Arjuns ability to form coherent thoughs rapidly disappeared.

Every time he tried speaking he lost his train of thoughts.

Payal noticed.

And seemed thoroughly entertained by it.

“Look at you.”

“Don’t”

“Completely gone.”

“Bhabhi..”

“Not a single intelligent thought left..”

“Please stop talking.”

“Why?”

“Because everytime you talk you somehow make this worse?”

Her smile widened.

“Good.”

Arjun glanced down, unable to look away from the sight : her manicured fingers, sparkling with rings and diamonds, wrapped so elegantly around his cock, moving with patient skill. Her breasts pressing into his chest whenever she shifted closer.

“Does that feel good?” she whispered.

Her free hand rested on his chest, feeling his rapid heartbeat through the kurta.

“You don’t have to answer that.. I can feel how much you like it.”

Arjun laughed,

“That obvious?”

“Painfully obvious.”

She gradually increased the rhythm, but only slightly — still slow enough to make him ache for more. Her stroked became firmer, twisting gently at the head on each upward glide. The slick sound of her hand moving over his now wet cock was barely audible, intimate and forbidden in the quiet room.

“My god, you’re leaking so much,” she teased, her voice warm with amusement. “Poor thing.. all worked up because Bhabhi came to help you get dressed.”

“Please bhabhi.. not again. Please stop saying it like that.”