I was 20 years old when it all started. My name is Priya, a simple girl from a middle-class family in Mumbai. I have long black hair, and people always said I had a pretty face with big brown eyes. We lived in a small society of flats in Andheri. Our neighbor, Rahul, was 26 and muscular from playing cricket.

My parents were strict. In India, girls are not supposed to talk too much with boys, especially alone. But Rahul’s room was just next to mine, sharing the same wall. Our balconies were close too. One rainy evening, I was alone at home. Mom and Dad had gone to visit my aunt. I was in my room when I heard a knock on the balcony door.

It was Rahul. He was wet from the rain. “Priya, my WiFi is not working. Can I use yours for some urgent work?” he asked with a smile. I knew it was wrong, but I let him in. He sat on my bed with his laptop. We started talking. He was funny and made me laugh. That day, nothing happened. But after that, he started coming almost every time my parents were out.

Slowly, things changed. He began touching my body. “No one will know,” he whispered. From that day, our secret started.

The first time he fucked me, he came to my room and he locked the door. We were kissing deeply. His hands were on my breasts over my salwar kameez. I was breathing fast.

“Rahul, we should not…” I said weakly.

But he gently removed my dupatta and opened the buttons of my kameez. My black bra was visible. He kissed my neck and sucked my breasts. He made me lie on the bed and removed my salwar. I was only in a bra and panties. He took off his clothes. His cock jumps out.

He spread my legs and rubbed his cock on my pussy. “You are so wet, Priya,” he said. It hurt at first. I cried a little, but he kissed me and stayed still. Then he started moving. The pain turned into pleasure. He fucked me hard, holding my waist. I was screaming his name. After some time, he came.

After that, it became regular. Whenever my parents were not at home, Rahul would come to my room. Sometimes at night, he would climb from the balcony. We fucked almost every other day. He taught me many things—how to suck his cock, how to ride on top, doggy style, everything. I loved when he fucked me from behind, slapping my ass lightly.

People in the society started noticing. Some aunties saw him leaving my room early in the morning. Some saw us talking too much on the balcony. Rumors spread. My mom heard something and asked me. I denied everything. But deep inside, I knew many people knew. In India, such things can destroy a girl’s reputation. But I was addicted to Rahul and the pleasure he gave me.

One day, my father almost caught us. Rahul was fucking me hard in the missionary position when we heard the main door open. He quickly hid in the bathroom. I acted like I was sleeping. It was close.

Two years passed like this. My body had changed. My breasts became fuller from all the sucking. Rahul loved fucking me every way possible. Sometimes he would make me wear short skirts in the room and fuck me standing against the wall. We even did it in the bathroom once while my parents were busy in their room.

Now, things are different. Last year, Rahul’s parents came to my house with a marriage proposal. My parents were surprised but happy because Rahul has a good job and our families already knew each other. They said yes. Now we are married for six months.

I am sitting in our new bedroom today, remembering everything. Rahul is in the shower. I smile thinking about those days. People knew about us, but now no one talks badly. We are husband and wife. Sometimes at night, he whispers in my ear, “Remember when I used to sneak into your parents’ house to fuck you?”

I blush and pull him on top of me. Now we can fuck freely, without fear. But those secret days in my room had their own thrill—the fear of getting caught, the quick hard sex, and the moans I had to control.

Last night, he fucked me like old times. He made me bend over the bed, just like he did in my parents’ house. He entered me from behind and pulled my hair lightly. “My beautiful wife,” he said while hitting my pussy. I came twice before he filled me.

In India, society has its rules. Girls are expected to be pure before marriage. But sometimes love and desire are stronger. Rahul and I broke those rules many times, but now we are together forever. I don’t regret anything. Those memories make our married life even hotter.

Sometimes when we visit my parents, I look at my old room and get wet. Rahul notices and smiles. Last month when we stayed there, he fucked me quietly in the same bed while my parents were sleeping in the next room. The thrill was still there.

I am glad he is my husband now. My neighbor who used to come secretly is now the man who holds me every night. Life is strange but beautiful.

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