Child Brides of India

By C. Stanton Leman

Chapter 13: Homecoming (Mg, ped, rom)

Both Priya and I awoke rested at 7am. Priya was all giggles and fits because that evening was her homecoming: the day she returned to her parent’s home for the first time since our marriage four days ago. She was hyper excited about seeing her Momma, Papa, Sarah and the rest of her family again. After today, she’d be able to return home whenever she wanted.

We had a playful shower together, dressed and said morning prayers. We arrived at breakfast as usual, with Mom nursing a cup of coffee and Dad with the paper. Priya sat down next to Dad and laying her hand on his said, “Good morning, Father. Feeling better?”

He flicked the page down and looking at her replied, “No, not really but it’s not because of you - too much brandy, I think.”

“Oh Father, be happy for me! Tonight is my homecoming!”

“I am happy for you, dear, but someone has to worry about the future,” Dad replied.

“Oh, phooey!” Priya giggled out. “The future will take care of itself. Stop it now, or maybe I won’t speak to you until you suck my toes.”

Dad chuckled and said, “Sorry, but your mother-in-law already has me trained. I can’t afford to be groveling to the both of you. Let’s pretend you don’t have your old Father already trained, okay?”

“I’m sorry, maybe Mom has already corrupted me,” Priya joked back.

“That’s all I need,” Dad quipped back, “an eleven year old, corrupted, genius of a daughter-in-law. God help me.”

“I’m harmless Father. I’m just a child,” Priya playfully pleaded.

“Yeah,” Dad said smiling, “said the spider to the fly.”

Mom, smiling over her cup said, “John, you might as well give up. You won’t win with her.”

“It’s a conspiracy,” he chuckled, “It’s a bloomin’ conspiracy, Sean, I’m telling you.”

“Isn’t it good that we’re on your side, Father?” Priya asked.

Nodding, he said, “Thank God for His tender mercies.”

We’d just finished breakfast and the phone rang. Pita, our maid, said the call was for me so I took it in the study. It was Paul Whitford.

“Hello?”

“Sean, it’s Paul Whitford. How are you this morning?”

“Fine and you?”

“Fine, thank you. The reason I’m calling is to find out if you can block out the day on Monday when we meet?”

I said, “Sure, can you tell me why?”

“Well,” he began, “after you left, I spoke to John Slocomb. He said that to make your wife’s age a non-issue and keep INS from halting the processing your application, we should conduct her interview and attach the psychologist’s report to the application. If she fails the interview, then making the application is a moot point.”

“I see,” I responded. “Should I bring Priya?”

“No, the psychologist and my superiors want to question you separately to gain information on what to ask her in the interview. We need to find out how well you both know each other personally, see if your time line of events and recollections of details matches hers. We also want to see if her perceptions and decisions based on those perceptions were analyzed in a mature, adult manner. I told you this might get ugly. It’ll be like a police interrogation.”

“We talked about it last night and we have no reservations about following any requests you may have. Priya said she’s not worried about an interview.”

“Good for her. So, we can do this Monday? If so, I’ll arrange everything.”

“I’ll be there with paperwork in hand,” I answered.

“Good. Monday it is; I’ll see you at ten.”

“Yes, at ten sharp,” I confirmed.

“Goodbye and good luck until then,” he closed.

“Goodbye, Paul,” I answered and heard the phone click. After setting the receiver down, I paused for a moment and took a deep breath before going back to the others.

Mom asked me, “Who was that?”

“Paul Whitford from the embassy.”

Dad’s head spun around and asked, “What did he want?”

I looked around at all of them and said, “They want to do Priya’s interview and attach the psychologist’s report to our application before Paul sends it to Slocomb. If she fails the interview, we won’t be allowed to even apply. Next Monday, they want to interview me to learn how well we know each other, timeline of events, and any other details that will give them a picture of how or why Priya might have made her decisions; basically, fodder for her questioning.”

Dad seemed calm and answered, “I guess that makes sense. Let’s just keep our fingers crossed. I’d better get to work. What time’s the party?”

Priya kissed him on the cheek and said, “Six - and don’t you be late!”

Smiling, he replied, “I won’t, Sweetie,” he grabbed his briefcase, kissed Mom goodbye and left.

I returned to the table to finish my coffee, and Priya got on the phone to her Mom, and occasionally talked to Mom in whispered tones. I heard her jabbering on in Tamil and occasionally giggling when the thought struck me. Is she planning her revenge for Mahmoud’s story? Who knows what lurks in the mind of an ‘innocent’ child. I figured C´est le vie . If it’s gonna happen, there’s no stopping her.

After a couple of minutes, Priya and Mom returned to the table, both with impish grins. Looking at Priya, I inquired, “Nice talk?”

She replied, “Oh yes! Very nice indeed!” and giggled again.

Drinking my coffee, I thought to myself, you’re gonna get it tonight! Changing the subject, I asked her, “What’s on the agenda for today?”

Priya asked, “Can we go swimming? I haven’t been swimming in quite a while and school starts next week.”

“Sure,” I replied, “We can go to the club. Want to come along, Mom?”

“No,” she replied, “I have to help Salima with the party. You kids run along.”

Leaving the table, we went upstairs to get our things and leave. We arrived at the club about 11:30. Priya emerged from the dressing room in a neon pink one-piece suit with her little breast buds poking out of the front of her suit. Her hair pulled back with a matching scrunchie in a ponytail: she was cute as a button!

Although not a great swimmer, Priya was agile enough in the water to playfully dunk me and swim off a few times. We played tag for a while and then I started to swim some laps. After about the tenth lap, she’d playfully grab my cock underwater as I made my turn and then swim off. After about fifteen minutes of this, she had me hard as a rock. Noticing this, she said, “Let’s get a snack.”

I smiled and said, “You’re a wolf in sheep’s clothing. You get me all excited then want to display your handiwork for all to see.”

Squirting water in my face from her mouth, she taunted, “A wife has to keep her husband interested, doesn’t she?”

Just then, we noticed that we were being observed when a young girl said to her mother, “Look, Mom, that girl is getting all mushy with that man!”

Priya giggled and waded over to the girl and whispered something in her ear. The girl looked at Priya shocked and turned to her mother and said, “Oh my gosh, Mom, they’re married!”

Priya held up her rings to the woman and wiggled her hand back and forth. The mother scoffed and said, “Hmmf! You should be home with your mother!” She then pulled the child away and out of the pool. Priya turned to me, shrugged her shoulders and giggled.

The exchange gave my erection time to subside, so we got out and went to the snack bar. We sat, ate and talked a little about the visa thing for a while when I noticed it was 3 o’clock. I told her that to save time, we should take our showers and wash our hair here so that all we had to do when we got home was change for the party and she agreed. We walked to the locker rooms: me to the men’s, her to the women’s. I’d finished, dressed, and waited about ten minutes before she emerged smiling. We gathered our things and left for home.

When we got home, there was a note from Mom saying she’d be home by five and to get ready, Dad would be home about then also. We went upstairs and said prayers a little early, asking Allah’s indulgence and got dressed. I put on a pair of khaki cargo pants and a short sleeve shirt. Priya wore a yellow knee length skirt, a white blouse with a yellow headscarf and slip-on sandals.

Priya and I were in the living room playing a video game when Dad came through the door about quarter to five and Mom came in about ten minutes later. Dad went upstairs to freshen up, so we continued playing (she won). Around 5:40, we left for Priya’s homecoming.

We arrived to cheers, streamers and congratulations. Priya hugged her mother tightly for a few minutes, crying tears of joy. She released her mother and leapt into her father’s arms, hugging and kissing his face. Priya then made the round of hugs and kisses to her relatives, and when she came to Mahmoud, she gave him a mock look of displeasure before he grabbed her in a bear hug, lifting her off her feet.

After the melee of the arrival, the evening was a night of food, laughter and joy. Because of the number of people and the lack of space, folks just shifted from chairs to standing affording everyone a chance to sit in turns.

Priya and I were sitting on the couch when I saw that little pipsqueak from the henna party take a running leap onto my lap, straddling me. She put her arms around my neck and gave me a kiss on the cheek and spoke in Tamil. I looked at Priya and she said, “Aleeya says, ‘Hi, Sean, remember me?’”

The little pixie cocked her head and gave me a shy smile.

“Hi, Aleeya,” I answered happily as I gave her a tender hug and a kiss on her nose “You’re the little demon that threatened me with a cobra, aren’t you?”

With Priya’s translation, she blushed, giggled and said, “Silly, I’m afraid of snakes.”

Laughing, I said, “So am I!”

She then started rocking on my lap while looking in my eyes, and then she said, “You have pretty blue eyes!”

My dick was telling me that I was beginning to like what this innocent child was unconsciously doing. I gave her a pretending studied stare, almost rubbing noses and said, “And you have big, beautiful brown eyes!”

Aleeya cocked her head for a moment and said something in a playful quizzical way. Everyone near stopped talking and looked at us, then burst out laughing.

I looked at Priya as if to say, “What’s so funny?”

She replied, “She just asked if you would marry her and she could be your second wife.”

The demon picked the lock on that creaky door and peeked out! With Aleeya straddling me and rocking, hearing her innocent, childish question made my cock jump in my pants and I started to firm! Momentarily caught off guard, I looked intently into her eyes and she didn’t blink. I asked her, “How old are you, Princess?”

After receiving the translation from Priya and still rocking, she looked back at me and held up four fingers. Inside I just shuddered. I had to get control of my cock! I didn’t want her to feel my hardness against her little rocking pelvis, so I lifted her and placed her sideways on my thighs. She leaned sideways against my chest, melting into me and started to swing her legs. Leaning close to her ear I said audibly for Priya to hear, “I think you have to get a little older; and besides, you need permission from Priya first.”

Priya translated for everyone to hear, followed by laughter and little Aleeya looked up, kissed my chin and said, “Okay, I’ll wait.” She then slipped off of my lap and bounded off to the other room.

Priya might have noticed a little bulge in my pants because she rubbed my thigh and said, “You didn’t tell her ‘no,’ you flirt. She has a very big crush on you.”

Trying to be nonchalant, I smiled, chuckled and said, “Its puppy love. I certainly couldn’t hurt a puppy now, could I?” I didn’t think she bought it.

It was a lame remark, but it was all I could come back with quickly. She smiled, kissed me on the cheek and replied, “No, we can’t be hurting any puppies… Can we?”

The rest of the evening bore no more surprises and everyone was having a great time. The evening was winding down and most everybody was in the living room. Priya was sitting in an armchair and the women were nearly all seated with the men sitting on the arms of furniture or on the floor singing songs. I was sitting on the floor next to Priya’s legs.

When the song ended, Priya’s grandmother spoke up saying, “Well, Priya, do you have any wish for this evening?”

Priya looked at her mom, my mom and her grandmother, gave a devilish grin and said, “Yes, I’d like my favorite uncle, my husband’s dear friend, to come sit next to me.” I thought to myself, Oh boy, here it comes: payback time!

Evidently, Mahmoud had been waiting for the hammer to drop also because he looked at the women, then at me, smiled and came over and sat next to Priya’s legs opposite me.

Putting a hand on each of our shoulders, she smiled and motioned us to sit, in front of and facing her. She lovingly looked at me and said, “Dear husband, do you love me?”

“Yes my beloved, I love you more than life.”

She turned and smiled at Mahmoud and said, “My dear and favorite uncle, do you love me?”

Gracefully, he bowed his head and replied, “Yes, Princess, as one of my own.”

She swept her arm, directing her words to everyone in the room and said, “And would both of you do anything in the world for me?”

Mahmoud and I looked at each other smiling and knew what was coming. We smiled and bowed our heads and surprisingly said the same thing in unison, “Yes, Princess, we await your command.”

Priya then, with a ‘Cheshire cat that ate the canary’ grin, slowly pulled her feet from her sandals and placed a foot in each of our laps. All the women were in on it and snickering behind hand covered mouths. We both knew it was time to ‘pay the piper,’ so we would let her have her revenge. She wiggled her toes and said, “My two loves, anything?”

Again we responded in like saying, “Yes, Princess anything.”

“Absolutely anything?”

Mahmoud, wanting to get it over with said, “Yes, Princess, there is no task beneath us for your happiness.”

“Then, my two pillars of happiness, please express your love for me and bathe my feet with your tongues.”

All the women gasped and the men looked on in disbelieving silence waiting for our reactions. We both looked at Priya and smiled and then Mahmoud looked and me smiled, and said, “I told you about those dark skinned beauties!”

We snickered and then each picking up a foot bought it to our mouths and sucked in a big toe with the cheers and laughter of all the women. Anything worth doing is worth doing well. We sucked each of her toes, tickled and licked her soles, and kissed her ankles and the tops of her feet before returning her feet to the floor.

When we looked up, there was a hush in the room. Priya had tears running down her cheeks. She looked at each of us and placed a hand on our cheek and said, “What started out as a joke for innocent revenge, Allah has turned into a lesson for life. You both have taught me that the expression of love, without regard for yourselves, is the greatest gift you could ever bestow upon me.”

She hugged us both and we had a group cry. There wasn’t a dry eye in the room. Little Aleeya broke up the seriousness of the mood by bursting out with, “Eeuuw yuck! You sucked her dirty toes!” After the laughing fits were quelled, everyone started saying their salaams to get ready to leave.

Once home, Mom, Dad, Priya and I were in the living room talking about the evening. When Mom mentioned the toe-sucking scenario, Dad looked at me smirking and shaking his head said, “How do they do it? How do we lose control to the fairest of sexes? They learn at such an early age…”

I looked at Dad and said, “Pheromones, Dad, Pheromones.”

Mom quipped in with, “Pheromones my ass! It’s that hair: that one single hair. Men have killed for it and died for it; lied, cheated and stolen for it. It’s that hair, John, that one single hair.”

Priya rubbed her mons and said, “I’m glad I’ve got a couple.”

After laughing at Priya’s admission, Priya and I said our goodnight and headed upstairs. We made warm, slow and passionate love; and yes, I fucked her warm, glorious pussy slow and long.