CHAPTER 23

ELZA

I grew into a youngster, an eighteen years' girl, then a wife and now I am a to-be-mother; nothing remained persistent at any stage.

Physique?

Nah!

Not only the physique, but the whole life changes, at every step of lifespan.

Though I am under twenty, I have no negative thoughts about the existence getting nourishment in my womb. Who am I to question its existence?

I am quite happy with this baby. Infact, I have never been happier. The news of my pregnancy had spread out like a fire earning me congratulations, wishes and gifts from all over the world. There is no baby bump for now despite my yearn to feel it. It has been only 11 weeks; how can a big bump appear so soon? Idiot!

Currently, my mouth is stuffed with the laddu Mom made. Finally, she has fully accepted my baby. She was so resistant in first full month. After that she started to soften up notch by notch. Nope, she did not play evil, that happens in dramatic soaps only. Being the responsible grandmother to be, she has been indirectly looking out for my meal but this is the first time she is directly feeding me.

The fresh orange color of normal sized rounds is tremendously tempting. Yes, I am eating you, babies.

What to tell... If not at typical points, you have got to bear a thing or two after the marriage. I did the same – gladly, for the man I am linked with. His sincerity always refrains me from disrespecting his parents. Seems, the respect of parents from the wife is in the hand of a husband. Which girl on the earth will respect the parents of the abusive man who does not limit himself to the venoms of words?

Ew, what crap points I am thinking!

I quickly shrug them off and focus on the affection hail. Mom circles three blue notes over my head and gives it to the maid. A remedy to save me from bad and evil eyes.

"Here, I am keeping them in this box. You take this to your room after eating." Mom orders with sheer adoration filling the transparent bowl with the fresh laddus to keep them covered.

"Not all the things are for you." Airab, out of a sudden, comments and I giggle showing him my half eaten laddu. He is on Skype call.

No, he has not gone all Majnu. In decent words, he has started to ping me with video calls on WhatsApp or Skype, and surprisingly he finds me eating every time. Don't ask about my weight and yeah don't... I seriously mean don't go to my face.

How lucky are those women who go more beautiful during pregnancy!

"Well, for now, mom has only made for me. You can ask her to make for you." I joke around and mom takes some distance giving privacy. No need...The volume is on. Everyone around can easily hear him up.

"Don't forget she is my mother." He flaunts off looking upward from some file at his table. Gawd! Why he has to look so irresistibly handsome at work? Surely, women there would want to do anything it takes to get under him.

"You are already strong enough." I speak, trying to keep my voice at merely audible pitch. To cap my meaning, I add a wink.

"Ahem..." He clears his throat, straightening the tie.

"Now, shoo, do your work. I have much things to eat and then a test to read. Wow, rhyme..." I appreciate my own self, giggling high, enjoying his small laugh.

As I end the call, I realize only a small piece of laddu is left in my hand. I quickly gulp it happily to relish its different kind of sweetness.

I despised this sweet my whole life and here, see... Pregnancy, I tell you.

Mom again takes a seat beside me while I lay my Tablet flat at the breakfast bar.

"How do you feel about yourself and the baby, Ezu?" She asks, genuinely. Surely, the elder women know better about such matters. Like, Airab's grandmother has already put a guess that it's a baby boy judging my walking style and facial looks.

"We are quite fine. I never felt dizzy, vomiting is occasional. Even doctor says I am good." I quickly, reply, not wanting to show any sign of lying.

The truth is that at every fortnightly visit to doctor, I am being strictly advised not to exhaust myself, and take healthy diet, two hours walk a day to stay active for a normal delivery otherwise the operation will follow, causing a lot of pain.

Airab is some real upset about this. So, I show no resistance to whatever the diet chart or Airab says me to eat.

My weight consciousness mind can go to sleep for the 9 months when I am to nourish my baby.

Before I pick the second ball, my mother along Zee makes appearance. She must have brought Saag. Wallah! I was craving to eat mama's made Saag.

After greetings, we all sit enjoying the laddu and gossips in the sips of pink tea and bites of spring rolls along dry fruits.

The heat from preparation of Biryani is helping in keeping me warm, my nose goes cold otherwise arising the pain in eyes.

Not that I don't have a thing for winters. The winters are love. Especially the love making.

***

On a rocking chair, at balcony, I coo myself, revising the sub-topics I have just covered.

This professor loves to take grand quizzes. Huh! Its due after two days but I am studying now. Better than cringing at the morning of test. Moreover, I have a husband and now a baby inside me to take care of. They are my responsibility and unless I am prepared for my tests or exams earlier or at least before mid-night, Airab refrains from intimacy.

And I outright hate it.

I yawn, shaking my head with a palm on mouth. Wow, I neck-deep focused on my study for an hour. Next instant, I smile waving at Biyah who is also enjoying the bright midday sun of the January.

"What's up Ezu?" Biyah asks me, loudly.

"Need a break!" I shout back, holding onto the grill. "Come up!" I suggest and she instantly moves her bum from the rocking chair with her plate of sliced oranges drenched in chat masala. Damn, my mouth is watery!

Within a minute or two, Me and Biyah are sitting opposite to each other killing the boredom with our womanish talks.

"How did he like the golden one?" She asks, allowing the blush to creep onto my skin. Now, I easily shop my undergarments and nighties with her. We are more of becoming besties. Not that my sincerity with Maham is any bit notched.

We can have two best friends at a time, right?

"Loved it" I reply, honestly.

"Wow." She mimicked some horrible expressions earning smacks from me.

"Bhai! See your wild wife." I immediately turn my face to the French window side to look at my husband. Ha, he is not there.

I again smack her to which she yelps.

"You need to be put in cuffs, animal!" She huffs back but her loud laugh ruined her composed posture.

"We have not tried yet." I regret as soon the words slip from my mouth. "Assume I never said that." Close or not, she is his sister. I do not go to details with her or anyone else.

But as they say you get worst people as your best friends... Rabiha starts to laugh out 'really' loud at my tongue-slip holding her tummy driving me to laugh like crazy, too.

"That should be news, should not it?" She teases me to the death.

Airab has many times held above my arms or tied then with his tie. But nah, we have not tried hand cuffs or any sort of that thing. We, at the current, do not require props to spice up our bed life. Maybe, we still get in flow with the simple traditional style, killing the tensions, enjoying it to the intoxicant point.

"Hey, your husband is home." Biyah says while laughing.

I don't believe this woman. "Lying, again. Seriously?" I threaten her showing my balled fist, adorned with a thin gold bracelet and two rings.

"Nah, look back." She nudges making me think once again that she may not be lying this time. If he is back, then I am so grateful on his return from Baba's silk factory on estimated time. Because when there is off on Saturdays, we spend time with each other.

When I turn my head, he, again, is not there.

"Biyaaah!" I call out her name sternly. She should not play this game. Because when I listen his name, I crave to be in his arms.

Feeling a tap on my shoulder, I smile from the depth of my heart. It's really my Airab.

He smirks that deadly expression of him which quickens my beats and dampening me at right places. Instantly, he winks making me go redden. Does not he feel shame that his sister is sitting right beside him?

"Okay, love birds pardon me." Biyah says to take her leave but Airab holds her hand.

"Where to? Sit here." Airab asks for her company and then the titters follow as we trio chat together until my dear husband explodes a bomb.

"Biyah..." He clears his throat. "I hope you will respect my guests. Tomorrow, a family is coming to see you. Nah, no pressure on you. You can..."

"I know Bhai. Don't worry. I will be a good lady." She winks at him cheekily.

"Yes, Airab sweetheart, you don't worry anymore. Biyah wants marriage." I tease Biyah, mouthing 'need' to her and now it is my turn for a smack.

"See, your pregnant wife is being tortured." I spice up the fact and we all laugh.

"I should go." Biyah blushes more than the red dress she is wearing and rushes from the spot.

Airab smiles from the core of his heart and I instantly lean towards his cheek to kiss. "My, cuchi cuchi pie." I purr at which he scrunches his nose.

"Ew! That's illegal to call a grown man cute." He refuses my recent compliment and I show him my tongue. It is fun to call him cute and enjoy his reaction. "Cute men don't show their women heaven!" He boosts, making me laugh.

May Allah keeps everything alright. I am laughing so much these days.

The Assar prayer call starts, so I hush up taking dupatta on my head. Airab does not like to talk during the Azaan and I respect his choice.

***

Pulling up the cups of new red brazier with white beads, I try to look sexy for him. But damn, my face! Why is it going worse with each passing day?

To go with the red, I choose the dark maroon color to paint my lips. I mash the lipstick and pose a confident look into the mirror, stirring my hesitant nerves.

Yes, he loves me and I still can be an item for him.

How motivational it is to call yourself an item!

Knotting the over gown, as per my usual habit, I walk outside the changing room with my almost bare legs.

"Now, what a way to give dessert to your husband!" He compliments laying comfortably on bed with his head rested on palm under his head. The two pillows under his elbow are being poorly tortured. Mm...

The English mimicking bitch on BBC keeps on with her words but my husband is now only leering attentive towards me giving me the sheer jubilancy.

As I lay facing him, he tucks the naughty curl behind my ear. Then, he sits up making me to follow him in position.

Before I could get his act, he tugs the warm duvet to cover us both. What is he up to?

"Talk to me. I want to listen you." His tone is commanding. My mouth has gone dry with his persistent stare.

"What??? I don't know what to talk." I am spellbound at his behavior. I cannot think of any topic to start with.

"People can't get enough but envy my luck on getting a girl like you... Young, Gorgeous and now the baby. I think I should not even look at you. God Forbidden, if you may catch the bad eye of world... or mine? He explains his insecurity and I shake my head.

"If so... I am lucky too. And don't think such things. Mom daily gives my Sadaqah and you too. Why to worry?" My fingers cannot help but caress his jaw.

It's still a mystery for me to solve out the feelings I have for him. They have been intensifying since the day one.

Leaning, I take a wet smooch of his lips. "You yourself say to not think about others at night time. Why the intrusion now?" To cap my statement, I again smooch his lips – seductively this time while my hand trails down to his crotch.

This taste has become my life.

"Elza, please. My life is stuck in you and this baby. You have to be careful. And one more thing..." He waits for my nod to make another advice. "Lessen these wild smacks with Rabiha. In fun, we sometimes miss a step or two. Or if not, then you need to extremely careful."

A lonely tear, after ages, drop from my eyes.

"Airab, look sweetheart, you please be tension free about this." He is extremely cautious since start but from a week, he is being over protective. "Don't tell you saw some bad dream?" I narrower my eyes at him to which he just gives me What-Can-I-do-if-I-saw-a-bad-dream look. I hump and take his hand in mine, giving him the warmth of assurance.

"I care about the baby at every breath I take. And what I am supposed to do when my mature husband behaves childlike at the first time pregnancy of his wife." As envisaged, his tension splits into a wide smile.

"A wife lecture is soothing." He raises his thick brows and my traitorous body goes nearer his. When I changed into this piece, I was warm but now it seems I need to be warmer.

"Mister, my body needs your warmth. Cold nose tip!" His chuckle in throaty voice causes my vagina veins to pump faster.

He holds up for a deep calming breath and then releases it. Yes, some relaxing treatment.

Next, he takes my lips into a deep kiss. The constant smooches last for almost an hour and then the idiot he wants some ice cream.

Is he pregnant, too?

I straddle him and we enjoy the midnight dessert in the arms of each other in our undergarments. He though also has t-shirt on.

Who says life cannot be made as peaceful as heaven? You have to control your inner self and its desires to enjoy the tranquility of a blessed life.

Grabbing my hand, he stops me from taking my fourth spoon and brings our mouth closer and transfers the ice-cream into my mouth. His face does not back away. Once I have gulped the melted ice cream, he licks the layer from my lips.

"How's the taste?" He asks, with wiggled brows.

"Melted ice cream, ew. I only gulped it down because of your taste." He bursts into a pit of laughter.

"Seriously Ezu?" He is still laughing, with our joined foreheads. His expressions are explaining me his shock upon my participation in ruining the romantic atmosphere.

Getting stirred up, I grip his collar.

Why is his jaw line so perfect?

I pull my mind back to the actual point and look down at the ice-cream tub still nicely frozen. Hoping it would not trip over, I pinch his jaw and he hisses.

I grimly curve my lips once he is sober. "So, mister, what?" He needs to know he cannot run away after laughing at me. "It was not romantic." I state with annoyed huff.

To x-out my infuriation, he palms my left breast with the musky look enough to make me reach a climax.

He seems thinking about something and then takes a big spoon of mango ice cream onto his tongue. Grabbing my chin, he effortlessly slides it past into my mouth in no time.

Um... "This one is something." I wink and then we play this tongue feeding and drug kisses, making me needier until the tub almost finishes – with my now naked upper self.

Then he sterns his leaned back and drip some ice cream onto my neck, breasts and nipples.

Fuck!

My mind goes all wobbly as his warm, sticky tongue circles around my nipple, licking of the ice cream he is purposively dripping from the spoon with his other hand.

Oh, my... My mind zones and I realize he is playing dirty. Only a few hours earlier, I was saying we do not need any props and here. The destiny slaps you back when you brag so much!

I moan really loud as his left hand slips inside my silk panties and eventually to my welcoming, wet folds. While his grazes grow wilder, he strolls his middle finger in and out of my famished heat. Damn! I am always ready for him.

"Now, laugh." He commands, aggressively, as I literally ride his three fingers tripling over the empty tub down onto the floor.

My mouth curves into a proud smirk at the revenge his inner man is seeking over my earlier displeasure on his romantic idea – the melted ice cream.

I laugh hysterically and throaty while losing my control to reach an orgasm right now, and thankfully, he does not make me wait much.

The orgasm turns me into a sexy mess, I think; beet cheeks, tangled hairs and my inner juices coating his fingers to the edge of stickiness.

Pushing the duvet away, he properly settles himself over me and my legs around his waist. And I know the whole floor will enjoy my wild, swarming sex-moans.

Now, ice cream has a memory for me – I will drip the desired juices at the mere mention of it.

Man, he really knows his way with romance!

***

I moan, cuddling more into Airab who is struggling to break the embrace of my arms around him.

"Elza, get up..." He shakes me, and well his voice... its tensed.

I waste no time in sitting up from the pretty sleep. "Get ready. Baba has fallen on his paralyzed side. Hell, I do not even know how worst injured he is." He leaves the bed in an incomprehensible speed, cursing himself as a son.

Taking care of my condition, I make a dash into changing room where I see him already changed into his track pants and T-shirt. He grabs his coat, asking me to be fast.

Baba...

My eyes are straining with pain. He was at the verge of getting onto his two feet. How come he fell?

***

Like, Comment and Share the story with your friends so that more people read my efforts. I shall be very thankful to you for your support.

And I remember, poor honeymoon is again on pending due to her pregnancy... let's see what to do with it. I have a spicy plan for it though.

^^^^^ Ice – Cream ^^^^ Do you also want to eat? (^.^)