There will come two sentences of a Qawali in this chapter. The Translation is here.

"Aaeine Ki Nazar Lag An jaye Kahien...

Jaane Jaan Apna Sadqa Utaara Karo"

(The Mirror Might Put Bad Eyes On You

My Beloved, Be Benevolent)

Chapter 1

AIRAAB

She looks enthralling. As ever.

Her youth time period is at peak and she is glowing every second, especially after being my wife. She is the most aseptic soul I have ever met. She may be stubborn with that sharp tongue of hers but still so sweet at heart. Nevertheless, I am at distance to her.

I sigh. I have not touched her yet. She cannot be called my woman in that sense. A girl. A happy girl with witty tongue.

"Plug in the switch of my curler." She throws order at me like usual. I am blissful to have her. I know she has accepted me her husband by heart. I can feel it in her attempts to be with me, take care of me and be the center of my attraction. I am just having a hard time in preparing myself for her. She is a treasure.

I nod and follow.

Once again, she sets her thin cat eye-liner. I admit she is the best make-over artist. But takes hell of a time. Despite the make up being put from over twenty minutes, her skin is giving the fleecy aura. I grin at my thoughts. Women are women. And so mine. Okay, so I love to call her my woman. Any problems?

We are going to her friend's or her Bestest friend in the whole damn world. After marriage, it's the third time we are going to visit her. She makes my wife happy and that is an enough reason to not deny the gatherings. Infact, I like to go to her friend's home as there I am given tips to keep my wife pleased - in general terms.

"Would you call the maid to bring me stilettoes from shoe closet?" One more order.

I nod, suppressing my grin.

"Elza." I call her to say something. The caveat of think before speak is hitting my mind. But what's harm in teasing your lawful wife? "Inform me fifteen minutes before the leave."

"Uh, why?

And why don't you get ready rather than hawking at me?"

The fun is now coupled with her question. I am glee that this idea stroked my mind.

"Asking for that only. It would take me only fifteen minutes in bath and getting ready." I say with sheer innocence.

The fury touches the tip of her beautiful nose. Aye, how ravishing she is!

She stops putting on one of those hues which make her lips softer. "You are a man and you don't put on makeup. You don't have long hairs to do." She rolls her dark grey eyes with hazel flecks at me.

Bad me chuckles whole-heartily. After which she shows me my after-shave with big eyes, oh my, beautiful eyes. They are as deep as ocean, demanding me to study them with detail. Often her eyes start the lane of my distraction. Anyways where were we? At the after-shave, right? Is she showing to throw at me? I wink with the sexy smirk smeared to my face. Knowing she would never physically hurt me, I lay cozily on my expedient bed, watching her. She may be anything equal to the teenager, but she has always paid chivalry to me.

To tease her further, I couldn't help but sing...

"Aaeine Ki Nazar Lag Na jaye Kahien...

Jaane Jaan Apna Sadqa Utaara Karo"

She turns instantly as soon as her mind registers my words. Yes, dear wife, I am authoritatively flirting with you. I keep smiling at her while connecting ear plugs with my iPod.

***

She still is in the cute web as she walks towards me, giving privilege to the dress to be upon her ideal figure. The cream color shirt with flower embroidery along the peach trousers is making soothing combination in the clammy weather. Confident sounds are being made by her dusky golden stilettoes against the even runway outlined with the greenery. The way she carries every dress is applause-able.

The blush though is daubed on her face since my indirect compliment or you can say so flirting. Her hormones are for sure - activated as even my closer existence is abolishing her smooth breaths and carefree bubbliness.

The enormous home behind her is mine, show-off of our ancestors' wealth. I know I was born with golden spoon in my mouth but still I am working; hardly and honestly.

I open the car's door for her and she comes stopping in front of me. "This car?" She asks, moving her baby-shaped lips, ready to be sucked. Okay, Mr. Haroon shoo away such thoughts.

"New, gift for you." I state and her mouth split into wide smile proving my lacs worth-spending on Rolls Royce Phantom Serenity. "So, ma'am would you let your poor husband be chauffeur to you?" The enchanting smile of hers grow.

"Sure." She says with high attitude sitting gracefully in the passenger seat. I move towards my driving seat and made sure the doors are locked. When I look at her after igniting the engine, she passes the calmest smile to me.

Her smiles.

She keeps observing the girlish interior of the car. Off course, its specially for her. I open the locker while smoothing the car on road. When I extended the chocolate bar to her, she again smiles. She loves the chocolates. One bread smeared with chocolate spread is often a vital item of her breakfast.

She thinks I do not care but I do.

She thinks I do not notice but I do.

She thinks I don't feel attracted towards her. Do I? Obviously I do. I am a man with a wife, a beautiful wife who loves challenges and does not have a typical kind of fear from you.

She pays her gratitude to me for the chocolate and car in love-me voice. Gratitude, eh? I chuckle at first. It feels like maybe her mother might scold her for taking gift without courtesy. I am her husband upon whom she has every kind of right. She clears her throat to share the dark sweet with me. I accept and do what I am lately best at - teasing her.

I hold her eyes to mine carrying loads of affection and warmth, and takes a chunk of chocolate messing with her sanity. Her taste is what pleasures my tongue. I myself am a big chocolate lover. She knows this, obviously very well, as we daily have chocolaty mid-night - eating, I mean. I break one more chunk and return it to my wife who is almost beat-red.

"Ahem, do stop near some bakery." She speaks when the silence felt killing.

"Yeah." I barely reply. I obviously was about to. I know this essential tradition of not going bare-hand when you are visiting someone.

She again smiles looking outside the panes. This is the Elza, perfectly ready. I also had seen Elza, just awoke from her beautiful sleep, devilish hair and no hint of makeup. The most natural and real state any girl can be.

In the morning time, when I was fresh, active, calm and enjoying the peace of my life, I had received a message from my mother that I am called by our neighbors. Okay, let's put our status and wealth aside, we are in good terms with our neighborhood. Should not it be like this? I smile from the depth of my heart, remembering the meeting where my heart had felt something for her, the very first time.

"I am so sorry to call you at dusk." Mrs. Ali apologized me formally. Oh, but hasn't the sun started to shine timidly? So, it was okay for me as that day wasn't Sunday where my sleep would have no mood to unfurl me from its paws. "Last night your car arrived very late. We opted not to disturb." She added.

"It's completely fine auntie. You tell how can I be a help to you?" I slipped my hand into my trousers' pockets and waited sincerely for some work. Yeah, that's bad in me. I love to work. I feel bored and worthless otherwise.

"Actually, you know Elza." Who does not know her? She is sweet and pretty. Wait, she is not mine to praise. And I must I add, she is feisty. These were my thoughts at that time.

"Yeah?"

"Actually, we want to gift her an iPad. She has put so much efforts in her first semester. We owe it to her." Mr. Ali came finishing his bath, dressed in traditional sky blue Shalwar Qameez.

"The idiot she dropped her cell phone and now it hangs. She has the laptop but we want to surprise her." Mrs. Ali said making us laugh. Yes, that's Elza. She is not sensitive to her things and thus the poor items say bye-bye after being with her for a short time. I had bought her iMac when they had shifted here a year ago.

Apparently, I have vast knowledge over technological things. Thus, I am frequently asked my suggestion or help just like then.

I nodded my head. "Till when do you need?" I asked for the time and their budget.

"In a day or two." As soon as Mr. Ali said, I felt Zee rushing into the living room. She had her teddy clutched in a tight grip. Ziyah Ali is a small fairy who lights up the Ali House.

"Good Morning. Assalam O Alaikum." She greeted sweetly snuggling into her white teddy with brown dots.

"Walaikum Assalam Zee." I wink at her. As soon as her sleepy mind registered that I am here, she shrieked, lapping at me.

"Oh Airab Bhai." She cooed shaking hands with me. "You know I am on level 567. Come I show you." Excitedly, she tugged my hand, dragging me towards her room. She has an immense love for her elder sister, Elza. Both sisters share everything with each other. Even they had been sleeping together alike sisters until I married Elza.

I halted.

"Zee, is your sister still sleeping? We should not disturb her." I said a bit loud. Mr. and Mrs. Ali might had heard me as Mrs. Ali came behind us and advised Zee to not disturb Elza. It would had been inappropriate if I entered their room and found her sleeping. There are certain limits in our religion. But Zee told that she has woken her Aapi and thus I was led inside the bedroom without even a knock.

I let my eyes waver around on everything except Elza. She was still in bed with her messy hair and sleepy face. She did not even have her dupatta.

"See Zee, your lazy Aapi is still in bed. Should not we give her some privacy? I will see your scores at evening, okay?" I winked at Zee sprinting out of room.

Hell, she is beautiful. These were my thoughts when I had seen my now-wife in the most embarrassing situation. The poor Zee would have surely gotten an earful back then.

***

The whole evening was spent at her friend's home and then I led them out for dinner. After marriage, you have to go with your wife. If you go for the guy-time with your dudes, you have to bear the glary eyes.

I look at my left hearing her moan in a sinful way. Pleading to my patience, I focus on the road ahead but her dupatta-free cleavage again tickles my body. She always does this; no dupatta around me. I think that is not done without a solid motive.

The way seeming to go to nowhere finally reaches the edge point when the main gate hits my retina. Have I mentioned I love driving? Well, I do.

Turning off the ignition, I touch her head, softly, having bipolar feelings. A. I want her to get up. B. I wish to carry her in my arms; cliché?

Creasing brows, she welcomes herself into the territory of the reality. Despite my aspiration of kissing her senseless, I act like a gentle man.

And my patience is rewarded in the next instant when she grabs my arm to lean over. She surely is tired and in mood - mood of staying positive.

I smile, mentally showing thumbs up to Allah.

After requiring my assistance in walking into the bedroom, she did not have enough and thus I also proved to be of assistance while she changes into the suit. A suit which is stain on the name of night suit - a white shirt with pink scattered flowers' print leaves almost 3/4th of her cleavage for lucky air to kiss and cuddle. How I wish I could do the same? The passion swoons me in a tight embrace and I have to remind myself that I am yet to win her heart.

I watch her cleavage again and gasp. She forgot to put on the most vital item. "Where is your bra?" Before I could form the question in mind, it was out of my mouth like carbon dioxide. Take a grip, man!

How can I when the stupid ardor is creeping over every inch of my body? All other kinds of thought are locked deep down in Pacific Ocean. Only she and sinful thoughts are doing intense Salsa in my mind.

She gasps, too and bites her bottom lip making my heart yearn some more. Please, no.

Quickly, she tugs more of the blanket over her and shies. Please, allow me to bite that fleecy cheek of yours and there is no need to secrete yourself from me, honey.

"Hiding 'em from me?" Again? Kindly keep this tongue of yours on rest! I did not want to say that aloud but it happened. I am embarrassed.

She gulps, gazing at my jaws and shakes her head. "I think my straps were tight today." She says with dry lips. "Rashes are the gift then." She turns a bit, opens the side drawer and extracts foot cream.

Coughing fake, she gets up to apply the cream on her foot. Just the simple massage is bringing erotic prophecies to my mind. All I want now to fuse my body with hers. If she keeps on her mission of seducing me, bringing me on my knees, then those days are near when she will be thrashing under me into the storms of passion and then there will be no more of Elza as a girl.

She is looking at me from the corner of her eyes but I have no mood of bringing a break in my scrutinizing today. She has soft skin without an ounce extra fats or crease lines. Soon, she put the cream back in drawer and starts gazing at me. Yeah, baby two can play at a time. Later she raises her brows asking what do I want. I shake my head and lay straight scrolling through a file on my tablet. It really is not easy to sleep beside a woman you are married to especially when her heavy breasts are covered with only a thin material shirt.

Aside sexual cravings, I really do not have a heart to crush this young, 18 years' girl under me like a piece of meat. She is girl who deserves to be my woman with high altitude of dignity. Her heart is almost with me; I can sense it. The thing is she is not very expressive. She cares about my everything; tiny to large needs but she would never want to go in hand in hand with me. I also would not like that. The public display is never my choice. Though, we can do anything in the confinement to our room or where we both are alone.

She is on her womanly week; I am thinking to make advancements after that otherwise she will again start with her 18-years age and me being the worst husband in whole damn universe.

The third night onward, she will be under me, moaning my name softly, holding onto me like her life depends on me. I cannot wait anymore. At least the foreplay can be started. All else aside, she is my wife. Why am I so confused?

Hey time, you have tortured me a lot. Now, do me a favor and pass on soon. I know I had kind of forced her into marrying me but sometimes things happen, in a moment of snap and you are just a source of HIS wisdom-fill plan.

I admire her existence beside me even in complete darkness. We sleep in same coverlet and thus the touches are quite often. I hold her hand in mine and sleep without saying anything.

I admire her

I admire her.

I admire her.

I really do.