I can’t believe it. I look at my husband in shock. He looks extremely nervous. I look at the gift he handed me again. This is why my husband wanted to give me the gift before going to the restaurant!

A beautiful, small, slightly curved pink dildo is lodged in the black foam. I can’t believe my husband got this. Where did he get this from? This is illegal in the country! Did my husband go to some seedy place to buy this? I can’t even imagine my non-alcoholic non-smoking shy single-sex-position-having husband doing this. I didn’t think he would go even if this was completely legal and he knew the place. Apparently, I was wrong. He did buy this. Thank the Gods, he did.

I glance at his brother. He is looking at me with a smile. Thankfully, my husband had enough sense to ask me to open the gift while hiding it from his brother’s view. I quickly close the lid, put it aside, and try to act casual.

What is it?”, he asks.

“It’s private!”, I shout and put it away from him.

“Whatever, can you open my gift now?” his brother asks. As usual, his eyes are on my chest.

I noticed it the first day we went to their house to meet my then-to-be-husband’s family. I liked everybody except him. I liked how shy and nervous my to-be-husband was acting. I knew beforehand how accomplished he is, I knew how responsible he is. I wanted it. I wanted a boring straight husband.

But his brother was not shy or subtle. He kept scanning my whole body from top to bottom and kept staring at my chest.

While we were getting wed, I had looked under my veil. His brother and his friend were looking toward my chest again. His brother was telling something to his friend and his friend was laughing.

After our marriage, he would continue to do the same but more. It seemed he only talked with double entendres and sexual jokes which my straight simple husband never understood. He would always ask me for “pure milk”. He would always ask me why I don’t have a sister. He would comment on the things I am wearing and kept telling me how they are old-fashioned and made for aunties.

To make matters worse, he kept touching me. It was always undeniable but extremely subtle. He would ask her for a glass of water, but while taking the glass, every time his fingers would quickly graze over mine. He would always be interested in the fabric of the saree, salwar kameez or even the t-shirt I am wearing. His fingers would lightly graze on my waist, my hands, and anywhere there is naked skin. He would always sit very close to me, touching me. When we would walk, his hand would sometimes touch my behind. And this is not even the tip of the iceberg.

I had thought about complaining about this to my husband or in-laws but I am afraid I would be called hysterical or out to break the family immediately after the marriage.

I open the gift box. It’s an extremely thin white t-shirt. I look at him angrily.

“Don’t you like this?”, his brother asks me with a grin. I look at my husband angrily and then at him and force myself to give a small smile.

“No, it’s good”, I lie.

“Why don’t you spread it open?” He asks. Fuck him.

I unfold the t-shirt.

“Stress is Dangerous” is written towards the top hem of the t-shirt and below it, on the chest, there is a picture of two squeeze balls positioned on the breast areas. I look at my husband. Frustratingly, he doesn’t seem to understand.

“It gives an important message. For you bhabhi, you seem always stressed”, my husband’s brother says with a smile.

(Bhabhi : sister-in-law)

“Thank you” I force myself to say. I immediately crumble it up and throw it inside the box.

Before anyone could complain I remind them, “We are getting late. Let’s go”.

“I actually need to shit before that”, my brother-in-law says. I roll my eyes. Of course, he needs to use the restroom and he has to use that word.

He leaves for the restroom. I look at my husband ready to complain about being late but see him nervous. He is about to say something. He decides not to. He looks at the gift.

Does he think I am offended by that? Should I tell him I loved it? He will think I am a slut.

“It’s fine ... I mean ... It’s okay if you want me to try it later” I say not too enthusiastically.

“Ok ... thanks. But...” my husband stops.

“Seriously it’s okay...” I say.

“It vibrates”, my husband says. I could not be happier. I force myself to remain calm.

“Okay. That should be good too”, I reply.

“I can ... hm ... I can control it through an app”, my husband says looking at the gift box.

“Control what?” I ask, confused.

“Vibrations” he replies.

I look at him stunned. What the hell! What has happened to him? Why is he doing this?

The only thing which sucks in our marriage is sex. He has a below-average penis but that is not the issue. He really doesn’t know how to have sex. He just lies on top of me and gives two-three pumps and is done.

I don’t really mind though. And I take care of myself when he is not in the house. The gift should definitely help with that.

I don’t know how to react to him wanting to control the vibrations of my vibrator.

“Okay...” I say not show my happiness.

He starts to say something again but stops himself.

“It’s really okay,” I reassure him.

“Maybe ... you know ... maybe ... you can wear it in public ... now ... I had seen a video ... no just an idea” he says while looking at the floor.

Wear a vibrator in public that my husband can control! This can not be any better. Can we finally be free with each other? Then tonight I will explain what he is doing wrong, and then we can start having real sex.

The opportunities dance in my head. I nod my head and then grab the gift and walk into the bedroom. Even thinking about this is making my nipples hard.

I close the door. I take out the vibrator. It feels velvety and soft to touch. I guide it into my saree, into my petticoat and then inside my panty.

I rub it on my labia. I feel my body shiver in excitement. The days of just my fingers are gone. I gently push the vibrator inside my pussy.

I feel so excited. I would have masturbated if I was alone. Instead, I walk back to the living room.

My brother-in-law comes out of the restroom before I and my husband have a chance to talk about this.

“Why don’t you wear the t-shirt I gifted you?”, my brother-in-law asks.

Because I am going to burn it.

“We are already late, I can’t change from a saree to t-shirt now”, I reply.

“Changing saree is like two secs. You just have to just yank from the front, untuck it and everything else falls...” My husband’s brother tells me, a habitual saree wearer, how saree works!

“ ... and besides no bar is going to stop a hot chick with a t-shirt, they may stop someone wearing a saree though”, He adds while laughing.

“I thought we were going to a restaurant”, my husband asks apparently ignoring him calling me a “hot chick”.

What! He didn’t pick the restaurant. I suddenly don’t want to go.

“It’s one of those restaurant-cum-bar with a dance floor kind of deal. Don’t worry it’s totally cool”, my husband’s brother assures him.

“Then you better not wear a saree. Otherwise, if they don’t allow it, driving the long distance would be a waste”, my husband says.

I reluctantly nod my head and start walking towards the bedroom.

“Bhabhi!”, my brother-in-law calls. I turn, he walks over, grabs my hands, and places his gift on them. Two of his fingers are needlessly caressing the backside of my hand.

“You forgot your t-shirt”, he says with a smile. I really should punch him.

“Thank you”, I say, grab the box and pull my hand away. I move into the bedroom and close the door.

I have no reason for my husband not to wear the t-shirt. I wear the t-shirt over a white bra. It is horrible.

The cleavage is much lower than I want it to be. The t-shirt ends just above my navel.

Worse, it is super tight and is tightly hugging my body, my breasts.

Worst of all, it is very thin and white. The white bra below the shirt is clearly visible. Even the picture of the squeeze balls doesn’t hide anything.

I should really burn this shirt. I can’t wear it. I have to say something.

“The shirt doesn’t fit” I shout loud enough for them to hear.

“What! I bought thinking about your measurements. Come out, let’s see.” my brother-in-law says.

I truly hate him. I wear a white bra under it and blue jeans and open the door.

They both are standing outside the door. My husband’s eyes widen.

“What are you talking about? This fits!” My brother in law says.

“I think it doesn’t fit and the fabric is too ... thin”, my husband says. Thankfully my husband understands.

“What are you talking about?...” My brother-in-law grabs my shirt from the bottom and pulls it a little towards him “ ... this is not thin, this is good fabric ... see how long it stretches” he says. The top hem has slipped downwards, uncovering more of my cleavage.

“Arey! Stop. It will rip ... Let her decide. If she feels it doesn’t fit. Let her change.” My husband says in a hurry.

I feel so happy. My husband looks at me. I look at my brother-in-law to enjoy his defeated look. Instead, I see a flash of anger before becoming neutral. He lets my shirt go.

“Let me change”, I say.

“Wait!” My brother-in-law says. Before I can react he takes a picture of my chest.

“I will show this and bring a bigger t-shirt”, he says with a smile.

Somebody should really break his phone.

“Oh my God! It’s fucking 7 pm already! We have to leave at once otherwise we won’t get a table” he suddenly shouts.

“I have to change!”, I say. He shakes his head, grabs my and my husband’s hand and starts pulling us toward the door.

“Okay okay. Let’s go!” My husband says and looks at me and apologies with his eyes.

I am extremely uncomfortable with this shirt. But it’s a bar, probably it will be dark and after I come back, I can make a deal with my husband to never make any plans with me and his brother again.

The restaurant does seem crowded. Too crowded for my taste. The waiter makes us sit with other people at a round table. The table is for 3-4 people and currently, six people are sitting. I am sitting in between my husband and his brother. Somehow his brother is sitting closer to me than my husband!

I shift towards my husband. His brother shifts towards me.

“So you were also working in Abibol?” My husband is asking the guy sitting beside him. My husband used to work for Abibol but resigned to join his current company. The guy nods. My husband starts talking about Abibol and what it was like for him. The other guy also says his experience.

I feel something rubbing against my breast. I turn my head to see my husband’s brother reaching for the glass and water and rubbing his elbow on my breasts. He picks up the glass and grazes my breast again while being the glass to his mouth.

I hate him!

He spills some water on my lap.

“Sorry sorry”, he says as he brings a tissue and starts patting me dry between my thighs.

I immediately push his hands away, “I will do it” I say, grabbing some tissue instead.

He is the worst.

Two girls sitting beside his brother are looking at us and giggling. My husband’s brother winks at them. They laugh. I am burning in anger.

He adjusts again, grazing his arm on my breast. The girls giggle again.

“Hey”, my husband says. I turn my face towards him. He leans in and whispers. “Can I try now?”

He looks nervous and glances at my crotch. I understand what he means to start.

I really don’t want to right now. There are six people with us and his brother is sitting beside me. But I really don’t want to discourage him. What if he thinks I am offended and doesn’t try again?

I nod my head.

He takes out his phone and keeps tapping on the screen. After some time, he leans in and asks, “Did it start?”

The vibrator didn’t start. I shake my head. He taps some more. He asks the same question again. I shake my head.

Suddenly it starts. I widen my eyes and look at my husband. He looks confused.

“It started?”, He asks.

I nod.

I can feel it hum inside my pussy. It’s not overwhelming but it is stimulating the right nerves. And to top everything off, it’s happening in front of everyone and nobody knows! I immediately feel myself getting damp with thrill and excitement.

“Hmmm ... I don’t understand it shows...”, my husband starts to say when his brother interrupts him.

“Let’s dance!”, he says and grabs my arm and forcefully pulls me up to stand.

“Stop”, I say to him. I would have shouted and probably would have slapped him if the vibrator was not sending constant waves of pleasure inside me.

“Wait ... we are ... hmmm ... talking about something...”, my husband says to his brother.

“You can talk in your house. You have all the time in the world. Now, we dance!”, he says.

He starts pulling me towards the dance floor. Thankfully my husband stands up and grabs his hand.

“Fine, we are going”, my husband tells his brother.

His brother lets go of my hand and we start walking towards the dance floor.

“Sorry...”, my husband whispers.

“Thank you!”, I say to my husband.

I don’t know for what, for saving me from his brother or getting me the vibrator. Every minute I am getting more and more aroused.

When we reach the dance floor, I grab my husband, wrap my hands around him and pull myself closer.

Two things happen simultaneously.

He pushes me off and the vibrations stop.

“Everyone can see us”, my husband whispers, looking extremely concerned.

I can’t believe he cares about that! And how did he stop the vibrator? I can see his hands.

“Ohhhh...”, I start to moan and cover my mouth as the vibrator resumes suddenly with much more intensity. Within a few seconds, it goes back to humming gently.

I look at my husband in shock. He also looks surprised.

“How are you doing it?”, I ask with a smile.

“Doing what?”, he asks, looking confused.

“Changing...”, I try to say but his brother comes out of nowhere, wraps his hands around both of our shoulders and asks his brother, “Do you think the jumping laser lights, the loud music and the smoke are made for people to talk among themselves?”.

“We were just...”, my husband starts to say when his brother interrupts him.

“You know what, you dance with her...”, he says pointing to one of the girls from the table. She looks displeased after hearing she has to dance with my husband.

“ ... I am going to dance with bhabhi for now ... until you both come into the mood...”, he says and then grabs my arm and pulls me away.

I would have shouted, screamed, pulled my hands out of his grip, slapped him or done something in anger if the vibrator inside my pussy was not dampening all my emotions except lust.

But instead, I keep weakly muttering, “Wait”.

He pulls me to the opposite corner of the dance floor and away from my husband and to a dark area. We were standing and my husband is currently standing in the well-lit area.

I glance towards my husband’s direction and see him looking for us. He is not able to see us in the dark area.

His brother gently grabs my hands and places them on his shoulder and then grabs my waist. He then starts smoothly swaying me to the rhythm of the music. He can actually dance, unlike my husband.

While our bodies are not touching, I realize we are much too close. I would have never allowed this if half of my mind was not focused on the vibrator that sending shocks of excitement throughout my body.

I look at his face. He is looking at me intensely with a face filled with hunger. I look away.

I know I would have been really offended but right now I somehow I don’t mind. The dance and the vibrator are intoxicating to me. It has forced me to ignore one of his hands slowly sliding down and resting on my butt and the other hand slowly up and brushing against my breast.

I know this is because of the vibrator. I know this is because of my wet pussy fogging my brain.

I feel guilty and look at my husband. He is still awkwardly looking for us. The girl he is supposed to dance with is nowhere near him. At this moment he decides to walk back to his seat. Did the girl not dance with him?

I feel sad and guilty. I get enough motivation to let go of his shoulders and pull myself out of his hold. I start walking towards my husband. But even before the second step, he grabs my hand from behind.

“Your brother is alone, I have to return to him.”, I say with determination without looking at him. He lets go of my hand.

I start walking towards my husband again.

“Ohhhhh...”, I moan, my knees collapse, I am forced to get down and grab the floor with my hands to keep myself from falling as I suddenly feel the most intense vibrations inside my extremely wet pussy.

“Are you alright?”, I hear his brother ask as he wraps his hand from behind, shoves it below my arm and places it on my breast and grabs the other hand.

I know it seems like he is pulling me up but I can feel him cup and squeeze my breast.

Again I let him do this due to the vibrations the size of deadly earthquakes rocking my body.

And to make matters worse, the feel of my throbbing swollen nipples getting crushed under his palm is sending ripples of pleasure.

I am focusing all my will to remain quiet and not moan.

I have to get up.

I use him for support as I force myself up.

Once I am up, I keep grabbing him by his shoulders so I don’t fall again.

He grabs my waist and pulls me closer, so close that our bodies are squeezing against each other. I can feel the hardness of his well-toned chest, I can feel his bulky arm muscles squeezing and most importantly I can feel the hardness between his legs. It feels bigger, much much much bigger than my husband’s.

One of his hands is wrapped around my back just below my armpit squeezing me and holding me in place. He slides the other one to my ass and starts groping it, squeezing my buttcheeks. He buries his face in my neck and starts dancing, swaying me slowly while our bodies rub against each other.