By the time Shalu had completed her M.Ed., I was 25, and she was two years younger than me. Shalu had started teaching in my old college. Meanwhile, I’d realized that my stepmom wasn’t interested in getting me married. All she wanted was to collect half of my monthly salary.
To settle down, I befriended a Bengali girl from my college. I was quite good looking (5’10” with a slim body). She was a year younger than Shalu and did everything I wanted physically.
We even went to Goa as a couple and enjoyed it there. She graduated in the summer of that year and went back to Calcutta. Before going, she’d promised to talk to her father and fix our marriage.
I waited for six months before telling Shalu. We put 2 and 2 together and figured that she was having a good time at my expense. In those days, there were no social media to contact her. I didn’t know her address in Calcutta.
Even if I found her, there was the problem of Caste. We were from different communities, and marriage didn’t happen till there was a strong reason (like one of us had a government job).
Depression came naturally with a habit of drinking. Shalu allowed me to keep beer in her fridge. Every evening we met on the terrace after dinner, and she would bring my bottle of Thunderbolt 750 ml beer. Slowly my admiration for her intelligence turned into love. We planned to elope from U.P.
Shalu got an offer from New Delhi to do a PhD. It set things in motion. There was no hope of getting any property or share from my stepbrother or stepmother.
We took as much gold as possible and decided to go to Delhi on a Sunday. That would give us half a day’s lead before my stepmom realized that we were missing.
One night Shalu gave me a glass of milk instead of a beer bottle. She also looked different. She was wearing a red silk saree instead of white. Before coming home, she had gone to a beauty parlor in our colony.
They had shaped her eyebrows and set her hair. She looked stunning, with a super figure (34-26-34 with a C cup) and a good height of 5’6”. Her hair had grown a few inches past the shoulders, which she kept tied in a simple ponytail.
That was our first night since we didn’t get a chance to get married formally. We had the foresight to do registered marriage on the last working day of Shalu’s college. She wore red lingerie that night instead of her regular skin-colored underwear.
She looked sexy with sharp features and smooth golden skin. Only one common friend knew about us. Luckily he was not a local.
Coming back to the topic of our marriage, Shalu was glowing from top to bottom. Her breasts stood up like ripe mangoes. 50np-sized pink areola covered her bead-like nipples. She had epilated her legs that day (epilation was all the rage those days).
I was thinking about how to hold my cum as It was my first time without a condom. As expected, I ejaculated within two minutes and slept soundly. Early in the morning, I lasted a bit longer when Shalu mounted me and rode for (what seemed to be) an eternity before climaxing.
It was the day before that I got the surprise of my life. Shalu used to give physics tuition to 10th class students. But that day, a couple of roadside Romeos followed her asking her to tutor them. She walked home swiftly, knowing their ulterior motives.
As a single woman, she was used to lewd behavior. But the problem worsened day by day. They had come to the main gate, and the stepmother had seen everything. She asked me to call the old barber.
At first, I thought it was best to run away with Shalu (or tell my stepmother that Susheela and I were married). I could see what was coming. Stepmother would ask the barber to do Shalu’s haircut or, worse still, ask him to do Shalu’s head shave.
But Shalu insisted on sticking to our initial plan of eloping. (After all, we were both majors, and we had married of our own free will.) With a lump in my throat, I called the old guy before he opened his barbershop.
At first, the stepmother scolded the barber, saying he should’ve come earlier to do Shalu’s haircut. He offered to shave her head, but the stepmother told him to do a short haircut.
“She is a teacher now,” stepmother reasoned. I was relieved to hear that they were not going to shave Shalu. Still, with a heavy chest, I informed Shalu.
Shalu: Don’t worry, Babu, it’s only hair.
Prakash: How long does it take to grow back?
Shalu: By next year, it’ll be the same as now.
Prakash: Thank goodness!
The barber started combing Shalu’s curtain-like hair. When it was not up in a ponytail, her hair reached mid-back. I was ok to cut a few inches, but we both were taken off guard by the old guy. First, he sprayed water on Shalu’s head and tied her hair in a ponytail using a rubber band.
Then he placed his steel scissors above the rubber band and made the first pass. “Khach”, we heard but couldn’t find out how much length was removed. Slowly the barber used his scissors to sever the ponytail from Shalu’s nape.
She felt the spot and concluded that a rubber band was no longer needed to tie her hair. The old guy shaped Shalu’s back and combed her front hair to cut it off at the tip of her nose.
Stepmother came to inspect and told the barber to reduce the length around the ears. He promptly followed her instructions and shaved the fuzz on Shalu’s neck and cheeks. When he was done, Shalu was left with a short bob.
She had a perfect figure thanks to sleeping on the floor and eating raw food. The short bob made her look younger than she was. I was instantly turned on by running my fingers through her thick locks after she took a head bath.
Shalu combed her hair backward and used a plastic headband to keep it tidy. Stepmother also comprised because of Shalu’s teaching job.
At last, the time came to put our plan into action. The Rajdoot motorcycle didn’t have enough petrol, so we didn’t bother taking it. Shalu packed our best clothes and certificates in a sports bag and woke me up at 10 pm.
We walked to the nearest traffic signal and took a cycle rickshaw to the railway station. The counter in Barabanki was closed, so we took the first train and reached Kanpur.
From there, we took the night train to New Delhi. We shared a RAC berth and arrived in Delhi at 8 am.
It has been 20 years since that day. We didn’t go back to U.P.
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