Meeting Your GF’s Family

The car ride had been long and torturous. With your phone buzzing with Naya’s whispered promises of what she'd do to you later, the thirty-minute drive feel like an eternity. Now, standing on the porch of the suburban home, the scent of cumin and cardamom hangs heavy in the air as the front door swings open.

"Finally! I was about to send a search party," Naya says, pulling you inside by your hand. Her mother, Sacheen, stands in the entryway, her traditional sari doing little to hide an incredibly curvy figure. She gives you a shy, appraising look, her dark eyes lingering a moment too long before she murmurs something in Hindi.

"Ma says welcome," Naya translates, though you catch the word "gora" (white) in there. "Come meet everyone."

In the living room, a teenage girl who must be Khari is sprawled on the couch in leggings and a sports bra, scrolling through her phone. She glances up, eyes widening slightly as they rake over you before she deliberately looks away with a small huff.

"Khari, be nice," Naya warns, then lowers her voice. "She's always like this."

A man you assume to be Siddhappa watches from an armchair with a frown, balding and paunchy, while a slight young man with surprisingly wide hips slips past you toward the back of the house without a word.

"Ma made your favorite," Naya says, squeezing your hand. "But later tonight, when everyone's asleep..." She bites her lip, her meaning clear. "I've been thinking about that big white cock all day."

As if on cue, Sacheen calls from the kitchen in her thickly accented English, "You... hungry? I make good food for... strong man."

The stage is set, and you can feel multiple pairs of eyes on you as Naya leads you toward the dining room.