Read Becoming Her - A New Life :: Chapter 12 Part 2

Now, in the quiet of the cab, the adrenaline had finally worn off. Kiran leaned his head against the cushioned seat, eyes half-closed, letting the soft hum of the engine and the gentle motion of the vehicle lull him. His jhumkas—traditional earrings—swayed with every bump in the road, the tiny beads brushing his cheeks. His glass bangles clicked softly, like a lullaby of the day’s fading memories.

“Long day,” Raj said beside him, his voice low, almost tender.

Kiran hummed in agreement, not opening his eyes.

He didn’t notice the flicker of shadow that passed over Raj’s face. A frown that didn’t quite become one. But it lingered, tightening his jaw.

The function had gone smoothly—joyous, colourful, bursting with laughter and dancing. But something had shifted for Raj the moment Roshni had brought him over to meet Sameer.

“We were inseparable during college,” Roshni had said, smiling brightly. “Me, him, and Kiran—the best of friends. And last week…” She turned with flair. “He gave us the surprise of our life by joining our college as a lecturer.”

Last week.

Raj’s mind had tripped over the words. **Last week**—wasn’t that exactly when Kiran had started behaving strangely? Distant at times. Preoccupied. Emotional. Was there a connection?

Sameer was a striking man, no doubt about it. That much was obvious from the way he strutted into the hall, wearing a deep green **jari** kurta left deliberately open at the neck to expose just enough of his sculpted chest. His body language, the way he flexed subtly with every move—it was designed to draw attention. And he got it, too. People noticed. Women looked. Men noticed women looking.

And Raj had stood there, jaw tight.

Then Kiran had arrived, a radiant smile lighting up her face. She had said breezily, “You two have met already? Great. Raj, this is Sameer—he’s now my colleague at college. We were friends in college too.”

We were friends

So casual. So understated. But hadn’t Roshni described it differently? “Inseparable.” “Best of friends.” Raj’s eyes had flicked from Kiran to Sameer, to Roshni. Why was Kiran downplaying it?

Later, as the function progressed, Raj had seen them—Kiran, Roshni, and Sameer—laughing together like no time had passed. The rhythm, the ease between them, the inside jokes in their glances. And when Sameer had suddenly dashed on stage, joining them with effortless confidence, Raj had felt something rise in his chest. Something hot. Something uncomfortable.

Was it irritation? Jealousy? Anger?

And then, he’d looked over at Sameer’s wife—the one in the bold, cream saree with the sleeveless blouse that had drawn more than a few stares. She stood alone at their table, her arms crossed, lips pursed, watching the stage with a dark expression. It was unmistakable—she wasn’t pleased either.

Then Kiran had looked at Raj, her face flushed from dancing, eyes sparkling, and waved him over.

Raj had hesitated. He didn’t want to. He wasn’t a good dancer, not like them. Not like Sameer. Not like his wife, who danced with such grace and abandon.

But Kiran had kept gesturing, her eyes soft, insistent.

And Raj had gone—drawn by her. By love.

He’d tried to follow her steps, tried to keep up with her rhythm. But next to Kiran—so fluid, so radiant—and the infectious energy of Sameer and Roshni, he’d felt like a clumsy outsider.

When the music finally ended, the applause was loud and raucous. Compliments flew—everyone congratulated Kiran, Roshni, and Sameer on their performance. Laughter bubbled everywhere. Even Priya’s in-laws seemed visibly impressed.

And Raj had stood there, forcing a smile, pushing down the burn inside him. He didn't want to ruin the moment.

Because, despite everything, one thing had mattered more to him than anything else, Kiran had laughed —really laughed.

Kiran had been so anxious, so disturbed all week. And tonight, she had sparkled. Glowed.

So he swallowed his unease. Let it rest, at least for now.

He turned to look at Kiran again, in the cab, head still resting on the seat, earrings swaying, lips parted in the soft edge of sleep.

Raj reached out slowly, brushing a strand of hair away from Kiran's cheek. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t wish to.

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Kiran woke with a jolt as Raj gently tapped his cheek.

“Hmm?” he murmured groggily.

“We’re home,” Raj said softly. “You dozed off.”

“Too tired,” Kiran mumbled, stretching as he gathered his saree folds and stepped out of the cab. His legs felt unsteady, the long day finally catching up to him. He instinctively reached for Raj’s shoulder for support as they walked toward the door.

Inside, the house was silent, the faint ticking of a wall clock the only sound. Kiran made a beeline for the bedroom and sank into the chair in front of the dressing table. The heavy jhumkas—those ornate earrings that had sparkled all evening—were now digging painfully into his earlobes. He winced as he pulled them off, rubbing the sore spots.

He removed the pin that had held his saree’s pallu in place, letting it slip from his shoulder. Then he reached up to unclasp his necklace, fingers fumbling with the tight clasp at the nape of his neck—but he couldn’t quite get it.

Raj entered just then, his sherwani half undone, and paused when he saw Kiran struggling.

“Here,” he said quietly, stepping behind him.

Kiran’s breath caught as Raj’s fingers brushed his skin. The clasp was tight, and it took a few moments to release. Raj’s fingertips lingered a moment longer, gently rubbing the tension from his neck. The warmth of his touch sent a quiet ripple through Kiran’s weary body.

“You’re tense,” Raj murmured, his thumbs now kneading softly into the muscles of Kiran’s neck.

Kiran closed his eyes. He didn’t want to admit how good it felt—how soothing. The stress of the day, the aching feet, the heaviness of the jewellery and makeup—it all seemed to dissolve under Raj’s hands. And then he felt it—Raj’s lips, warm and deliberate, pressing gently against his neck.

He stiffened. His eyes opened. He wanted to say, stop. Words hovered on his lips, but didn’t come out.

Raj moved closer, gently turning his face toward him, coaxing eye contact. There was no aggression, no rush—only something deeper. A kind of yearning. Kiran’s heart thudded in his chest. He could sense what was coming. He wanted to resist. But he didn’t.

Raj’s lips touched his.

Tentative at first, then deeper. Kiran's own lips responded before his mind could intervene. A soft, involuntary moan slipped from him as his hands instinctively found Raj’s chest.

This is wrong.

But his body didn’t seem to agree. It leaned forward, closer.

Raj drew him into an embrace, kissing his neck and behind his ears with a tenderness that made Kiran’s breath hitch. A fire was being lit—one he didn’t know how to extinguish. He wanted to pull away. But his limbs stayed still.

Raj kissed the exposed gap in Kiran’s blouse, and Kiran felt his resolve melting. You should stop this, he told himself. But the thoughts came with less strength now, drowned beneath the surge of sensation.

Raj unbuttoned more of Kiran's blouse buttons. His breasts were exposed, touched, kissed, played with. Kiran moaned—loudly. Something curled at the edges of his thoughts, but pleasure overtook everything else. There was a voice in his mind that whispered, No, but it was faint—drowned under the flood of new, overwhelming sensations.

Raj moved him to the bed, undressing them both. Their bare skin touched, and something in Kiran broke. The touch of Raj’s body—firm, masculine, warm—against his sensitive breasts was disarming. He felt helpless, his body trembling with need and confusion.

When Raj pulled his bra down and took a nipple into his mouth, Kiran cried out. A loud, unfiltered moan escaped him. I’m a man. I was a man, a faint thought came and was gone - like a half-remembered dream.

Raj kissed down his stomach, lifted his petticoat, and began trailing kisses down his thighs. Alarm bells went off in Kiran’s head again. The voice returned—clearer this time. Stop this.

But when Raj kissed his inner thighs, Kiran’s body betrayed him. His legs opened involuntarily. Wetness gathered between them in his vagina. His body was welcoming this. Begging for it.

He moaned again.

Raj pulled down his panties. His lips met Kiran’s aroused, sensitive folds.

The voice in his mind screamed. Stop this.

But his mouth only formed a weak “No…”

Raj didn’t stop.

His tongue worked its way around Kiran’s vaginal entrance, then slipped inside. Kiran gasped. Shuddered. Moaned louder than before. Sensations exploded through him. His thoughts fractured. Everything was fire and wetness and surrender.

Then Raj pulled off his pants, exposing his hard erect cock. Kiran’s eyes widened.

The sight of it brought panic to Kiran's mind. And remembrance of his former self. No. He couldn't allow this to happen. He was a man.

“No,” a louder, firmer voice emerged from his lips.

But it was too late.

Raj was in a sexual frenzy of his own now. He had resisted his sexual urges for the entire week, and now, his wife had responded—to his advances, to his touch.

His eyes searched Kiran’s face. For a moment, everything stopped. But then he looked at Kiran’s flushed skin, the glistening need between his thighs, the way his body had responded.

She wants me, Raj decided.

He pushed Kiran's legs apart and placed his cock at the tip of Kiran's vaginal opening, slowly pushing it in.

Kiran moaned loudly as he did so. That put Raj's mind to rest.

He began thrusting, and found Kiran's body responding ecstatically.

As Raj pushed his legs wide, Kiran had been filled with revulsion. How was this happening? What had he allowed here? he thought, the shame eating at his heart.

But as Raj's cock slid into his receptive, lubricated vagina, his body responded, he experienced sensations he had never known before.

Revulsion and rapture warred within him. One part of him wanted to push away. Another clung to Raj’s waist, pulling him deeper. With each thrust, guilt gave way to mindless pleasure. His body moved in rhythm, echoing a feminine surrender he hadn’t known he was capable of.

As Raj's thrusts became faster, Kiran's sensual pleasure reached euphoric levels. As Raj reached his climax, spilling his semen deep inside his vagina, Kiran reached the zenith of his own pleasure.

He screamed in ecstasy, his nails boring into Raj's skin, as he experienced his first female climax.

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That's the end of Chapter 12 Part 2. Do let me know your thoughts on the chapter. Comment freely.

Thankyou

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and events are either the product of the author's imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to real people, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

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