Adultery The Facilitator

[clearlover]

I am new to posting stories, hope some of you would like it. Here is message to readers

1)The story contains theme that might be controversial to some. Readers discretion advised
2) The story might not make sense to few. My apologies to them, but I am posting after lot of reviews and consideration. So I would not change the content.
3)Aditya is 4 years old so "the intended" word about place of study gets converted to college.Read accordingly 



PART A


The sun rose over Mumbai, lighting up the city. Esha, 32, looked radiant in the morning light. Her hair, usually up in a bun, was down, making her look less strict. Her eyes showed her drive and love for her family, and her smile could brighten any place.

Esha was in the kitchen making Kunal's favorite masala dosa. The sizzling sound of cooking filled the air. Kunal watched her with his glasses crooked. The kitchen was her domain where she showed her love through cooking. She moved easily in her cream sari, setting out ingredients like rice flour and spices.

She soaked the grains, chopped onions, and mixed her special spices, the kitchen filling with the sound and smell of cooking.

Kunal carefully set the table, placing everything just right. Aditya helped by setting out forks, happy to be part of the routine.

"Can I help, Mumma?" Aditya asked, his eyes bright.

"Of course," Esha said, lifting him up to stir the batter. He beamed with pride, making Kunal laugh.

Esha cooked the dosa on the hot pan, spreading the batter thin. Kunal watched, not just the dosa but how lovingly she cooked.

"It smells so good, Mumma!" Aditya said, excited.

"It's all about the taste," Esha replied, letting him smell the spices. He crinkled his nose in delight as Kunal ruffled his hair.

Esha served the dosa, golden and tasty. Kunal poured coffee, its smell adding to the breakfast aroma.

They ate, feeling warm and close as a family. Kunal and Aditya's praise made Esha happy; breakfast was more than just eating, it was their time for stories and laughs.

Kunal told tales of his day, which thrilled Aditya, who listened with wide eyes.

After eating, Esha cleaned up, her thoughts on work. She saw Kunal helping Aditya with homework.

Getting ready for work, she checked on Aditya, now reading. Kunal's smile was a quiet promise of their love.

Esha hugged Aditya, whispered words of encouragement, then kissed Kunal goodbye, their kiss a promise of their life together.



Driving to work, Esha thought about her team, her clients, and her strategies. But mostly, she thought of Kunal and Aditya, who made her mornings special.

Esha walked into the bank, her light green kurti and black trousers reflecting her professionalism. She was excited yet nervous about her new role as a manager, handling a big client like Aniket. She had the potential, everyone agreed, but there was a quiet tension in her ambition, a nervousness about the unknown.

Her office was modest but warm, with a small window letting in light. On her desk, photos of Aditya playing and one with Kunal at a picnic grounded her, reminding her why she excelled.

The day started with her supervisor's words, "He's big, Esha, but I trust you." His confidence was both comforting and challenging. Esha's heart raced with both thrill and pressure.

She dived into preparations, her actions focused, reviewing Aniket's background, understanding his investment needs. Her team saw her earnestness, her questions not just for show but for real learning.

Between meetings, her mind wandered back to the morning with her family, bringing smile on her face.

When dealing with clients, Esha was clear, professional, yet still learning. Her colleagues admired her dedication, her late hours to prepare for Aniket.

As evening approached, Esha reviewed her notes, anticipating Aniket's questions, her dedication personal as well as professional.

Packing up, she felt both accomplished and anxious. Her colleagues' encouragement was a balm to her nerves.

Leaving the bank, her thoughts shifted to home, to Kunal's warmth, Aditya's tales. This new role was more than work; it was proving she could balance her life's many parts.

While returning back home, Esha felt determined. This was her chance to show she could manage, learn, and thrive, even with less experience.


Next day,Aniket walked into the bank like he owned the place. His suit was sharp, his stance confident. He was here for a new portfolio manager since his last one retired.

Esha, in her office, was a mix of excited and nervous. She'd been picked to handle this big client. Her desk was neat, all set for the meeting. She straightened her pink kurti, glancing at her family photo for courage.

When Aniket entered, they were strangers to each other. Esha stood, her handshake professional.

"Welcome, Mr. Aniket," she said, her voice steady but with a hint of nerves.

"Thank you," Aniket replied, his voice formal. He sat down, looking around her office, sizing her up.

Esha introduced herself, explaining her role and the bank's service promise. She was clear but still had that eager-to-please vibe.

Aniket was used to dealing with experienced people, but he seemed to like Esha's fresh approach. He asked questions to see how she'd manage his investments. Esha answered with confidence, though she checked her notes now and then.

"I need someone with new ideas," Aniket stated, his tone neutral. "Why should I choose you?"

Esha took a deep breath. "I focus on what each client really wants," she said, her eyes sincere. "I might not have the years, but I've got dedication and a drive to learn."

They talked about Aniket's financial goals. Esha suggested strategies, her approach thoughtful despite her newness to the role. Aniket listened, his questions were sharp, his interest clear in how she handled the financial talk.

Everything was strictly business. Esha wanted to prove herself, and Aniket was checking if she could handle his company's money. No personal vibes, just work.

When the meeting ended, Aniket stood, his face unreadable. "Let's see how it goes," he said, shaking her hand. "Good approach, Ms. Esha."

"Thanks for this chance, Mr. Aniket. Looking forward to working with you," Esha said, her handshake firm this time, feeling more confident.

Aniket left, and Esha sat back, feeling the weight of what lay ahead but also excited about proving herself in finance.


Next week,Esha had everything ready for her meeting with Aniket, wanting to show how much she'd learned. Her desk was covered with notes and graphs.

Aniket arrived right on time, his handshake firm, his eyes scanning the papers in front of him as he sat down.

"Please, sit," Esha said, her voice calm, her smile professional. She felt more assured since their last talk.

"Thanks," Aniket said, his voice neutral.

Esha jumped into an update on his investments. "I've been watching your portfolio closely. Here's what I've noticed from recent market changes," she said, showing him graphs, highlighting where his money was growing or at risk.

Aniket paid close attention, his questions sharp. "How do you deal with the ups and downs in tech?" he asked, looking at her intently.

"I see the risk in tech, but there's growth in new markets," Esha replied, pointing to a slide. She explained her plan for managing risks while seeking out opportunities, watching his reactions.

They kept it all business. Aniket nodded at her thoroughness, his next questions digging into her strategy. "What's your plan for these risks?" he asked, genuinely curious.

"Spreading your investments into stable sectors when tech dips," Esha said, giving him a list of her ideas.

Aniket looked over her suggestions, his face serious. "Good work," he noted, showing he respected her effort.

They discussed further, Esha quick to respond when Aniket threw in a market shift scenario, suggesting ways to protect his investments, her confidence based on her knowledge.

As the meeting ended, Esha felt proud of how she'd shown her skills. Aniket stood, saying, "Thanks for the insights, Ms. Esha. Excited to see these in action."

Esha shook his hand, professional to the end. "Thank you, Mr. Aniket. I'm all in for your portfolio's success."


Mumbai's evening air was cool as Esha stepped from her car, her saree a perfect mix of tradition and professionalism. The restaurant, chosen for its quiet luxury, was set for a team dinner celebrating a recent win, suggested by Aniket. This wasn't just a party; it was about building better team bonds. Esha saw it as a chance to show her leadership outside the office.

Walking in, she was met with the buzz of chatter and the sound of utensils. Aniket was already there, his presence both authoritative and friendly as he chatted with others. Seeing Esha, he walked over with a warm, professional smile.

"Ms. Esha, glad you could come," Aniket said, his handshake firm.

"Thanks for inviting me, Aniket. Nice place," Esha replied, her smile sincere, her eyes scanning the room.

"I thought it'd be good for us to unwind outside work," Aniket said, gesturing at the crowd. "It's about getting to know each other."

"Absolutely," Esha agreed, appreciating the idea.

They sat down, Esha opposite Aniket, with Priya, a colleague and friend close to her family, on one side, and Vikram from Aniket's team on the other.

"How do you juggle work and family?" Vikram asked, genuinely curious. "I heard you have a little boy."

Esha blushed a bit, not used to personal questions at such events. "It's all about choosing what matters most. Kunal and I make time for Aditya. He loves drawing," she said, her voice warm with pride.

Priya laughed, "She's our role model. Esha works long hours but never misses Aditya's kindergarten stuff. Like that art show, remember?"

Esha smiled at the memory, "Yes, and you were there, cheering like crazy."

This made Esha more approachable to Aniket's team. Aniket watched, impressed. "That's impressive," he said, meeting her eyes. "Not many balance work and home like that."

"Thanks," Esha said, smiling at both. "It's teamwork all around."

The talk shifted to their project's success. "It was our joint effort," Esha said, nodding to Aniket. "Your guidance was key."

Aniket raised his glass, "And your ideas changed the game. Here's to more of this."

As dinner went on, personal stories filled the air. Neha shared her travel tales, prompting Esha to talk about their trip to Lonavala. "Seeing it through Aditya's eyes was magical," she said.

"Try Mahabaleshwar next," Aniket suggested, his voice kind. "It's great for families."

"Thanks, I'll think about it," Esha replied, appreciating the suggestion.

Priya added, "Aditya would adore it there. He's a nature lover, like his mom."

The night was a blend of work and personal life. Esha admired how Aniket made everyone feel important, a leadership trait she wanted to learn. With Priya there, the dinner felt like a friendly gathering.

Priya, always upbeat, asked, "How do you stay so calm under pressure?"

Esha laughed, easing the atmosphere, "It's all practice, and knowing it's for my family."

Aniket added thoughtfully, "Strong personal values make the best leaders."

Esha felt a mix of professional respect and personal recognition. "I believe in that balance," she said, her eyes meeting his in thanks.

Over dessert, Esha shared a funny story about Aditya's cooking attempts, sparking laughter and more stories. Priya chimed in, "He's a chef in the making, right?" making Esha laugh with joy.

That moment, Esha and Aniket laughed together, their professional barriers slightly lowered.

As the dinner ended, Aniket pulled Esha aside. "You did great tonight. It's about more than numbers; it's about people. I respect that."

Esha looked at him, her professionalism intact but with a new warmth. "Thank you, Aniket. People are just as important as profits."

The evening wrapped up with handshakes and farewells.

[clearlover]

Part B

One night, while tucking Aditya into bed, Esha was struck by the idea of escaping Mumbai's hustle. She whispered to Kunal, recalling Aniket's mention of Mahabaleshwar, "How about we surprise Aditya with a trip there this weekend?"

Kunal, always up for family adventures, was all in. "Sounds perfect. Aditya will love it, especially with the rain coming."

The weekend came with the excitement of a family escape. They packed light, making sure Aditya's games and art stuff were in the car. The drive was filled with Aditya's chatter, his eyes bright with anticipation.

Arriving in Mahabaleshwar, they were greeted by cool mist and fresh air. Their cottage, with its big windows overlooking the hills, felt like the perfect spot for family time. Aditya ran around the garden, his laughter bouncing off the hills, while Kunal and Esha exchanged satisfied looks.

The days were simple and joyful. They hiked, with Aditya collecting nature's treasures. The rain turned their adventure into a playful exploration. Inside, board games brought out laughter, with Aditya surprising them with his strategy.

While Aditya painted, Esha talked to Kunal about work. "I've got this new big client. It's tough but exciting," she said, her eyes shining with pride.

"That's great," Kunal replied, genuinely interested. "How's it going?"

"It's good, lots to learn, but I'm making an impact," Esha said, keeping it professional, not mentioning Aniket.

Kunal squeezed her hand, smiling. "You're doing amazing, Esha."

Esha felt grateful, leaning in for a soft kiss, appreciating his support.

Evenings were spent by the fire, Aditya's laughter blending with the wood's crackle. Esha read stories, her voice comforting, while Kunal watched, heart full, cherishing their time together.

One night, with Aditya asleep, they sat outside. "This was a great idea," Kunal said, his arm around her. "A needed break."

Esha agreed, resting against him. "These moments remind me what's important. No matter how busy work is, this," she gestured to the peaceful view, "is my calm."

They talked, the kind of talk only years of being together allow. Esha shared her dreams for Aditya, for their family, while Kunal discussed his work with the same passion she felt for hers.

Packing up to head back to Mumbai, they felt the sadness of leaving Mahabaleshwar, knowing they'd soon return to the daily grind.

The room was buzzing with excitement for the financial seminar, filled with industry folks and the smell of ambition and coffee. Esha moved through the crowd with confidence, spotting Aniket by a window. His suit was sharp, his air professional. Their eyes met, and Esha approached with a smile.

"Aniket, nice to see you here," she said, shaking his hand.

"Esha, glad you could make it," Aniket replied, his handshake quick. "Are you speaking today?"

"No, I'm here to learn and network," she explained, focused on her career. "I'm looking forward to your insights."

"I'll share what I know. The market's been wild," Aniket said.

Their talk was all business, covering market trends and tech's role in finance. Esha listened, adding her thoughts when appropriate, each respecting the other's expertise.

The seminar kicked off with talks on new financial strategies. Esha scribbled notes, thinking how to use this for her clients. Breaks were for networking, where she chatted with experts, her confidence growing with each interaction.

Aniket watched from afar, impressed by how Esha held her own. When it ended, everyone started leaving, trading farewells.

Esha, wrapping up a conversation with a senior analyst, made her way to the parking lot. However, her car, usually reliable, refused to start. She tried several times, her frustration mounting as she realized she might be stranded. The deep color of her salwar kameez was now in stark contrast to the grey of the parking lot, her professional armor against the inconvenience of the moment.

Just as she was contemplating her next move, Mr. Aniket appeared, having seen her struggle from afar. "Car trouble, Ms. Esha?" he asked, his voice carrying a tone of concern.

"Yes, it won't start. I'll have to call for a tow or something," Esha sighed, her professional demeanor slipping slightly into the annoyance of the situation.

Mr. Aniket offered, "I can drop you home if you like. It's no trouble."

Esha hesitated, her mind quickly weighing the implications. "That's very kind, Mr. Aniket, but I wouldn't want to impose."

"It's not an imposition. It's the gentlemanly thing to do," Mr. Aniket insisted, his offer sincere, his gaze holding hers, showing no ulterior motive.

Esha's initial refusal was more about maintaining her professional boundaries than any distrust. "I appreciate the offer, but perhaps you could just drop me at the bus stop near my home? I'll manage from there."

Mr. Aniket nodded, understanding her hesitancy, "Of course, wherever you feel comfortable."

The drive was quiet, with Esha directing him to the bus stop one before her actual destination. As they drove, Mr. Aniket, in a casual tone, said, "Esha, could you stop calling me Mr. Aniket? We've known each other for quite some time now."

Esha, surprised by the suggestion, responded, "I like to keep things professional, Mr. Aniket. It maintains a certain distance."

Mr. Aniket chuckled, "But we've shared enough professional moments to be on a first-name basis, don't you think?"

Esha thought for a moment, considering the familiarity they had built over their meetings. With a slight nod, she conceded, "Alright, Aniket. But then you should call me Esha as well."

"Fair enough, Esha," Aniket said, his smile warm but still professional. The change in address felt like a small bridge between them, one built on mutual respect rather than personal intimacy.

As they approached the stop, Esha spoke, her voice soft yet firm, "Thank you, Aniket. I truly appreciate your help."

"It's nothing, Esha. I respect your caution," Aniket replied, his words acknowledging her need to protect her reputation and personal space.

Esha stepped out of the car, her hesitation now turned into a small smile of gratitude. "Have a good evening, Aniket."

"You as well, Esha," he said, watching her walk towards the bus stop, ensuring she was safe before driving away.

Waiting for the bus, Esha thought about the day's success and Aniket's help, feeling proud of how she managed to keep her professionalism intact.

The bus ride was quiet, giving her time to reflect. She felt each interaction, including with Aniket, was building her reputation.

At home, Kunal and Aditya were in the kitchen, laughing over dinner prep. Esha joined, the day's worries fading. She shared highlights from the seminar at dinner but kept Aniket's involvement light. Kunal listened, proud of her.

The night ended with Esha reading to Aditya, feeling at peace, knowing she'd balanced her professional and personal life well today.

The day after the seminar was packed for Esha, her thoughts still circling around the discussions. As she was tidying her desk, her phone pinged with a message from Aniket:

Would you be interested in a coffee to debrief on that new market trend we discussed?

Esha hesitated, always cautious about mixing work with outside meetings. But today, she felt upbeat from the seminar's success. Aniket had always been professional, so she saw this as an opportunity to delve deeper into business.

Sure, she replied, her interest in the topic overriding her usual caution.

They met at a café near the financial district, known for its serene atmosphere and great coffee. The place had a modern yet traditional feel, with wooden tables and gentle lighting setting the stage for their talk.

Aniket was there, his usual charm in place. "Esha, glad you could make it. I've been ,.ng over our seminar chat all day," he said with a smile.

Esha smiled back, relaxing a bit. "Me too, Aniket. It's an interesting topic," she said, sitting down.

With coffee in hand, they dove into the discussion. Aniket's excitement made the talk feel more like a meeting of minds than just work. "I think there's a niche we've overlooked," he said, eager.

Esha agreed, feeling confident. "There's big growth potential in these markets if we manage the volatility," she contributed.

They stuck to professional matters, discussing strategies and risks. Aniket's knack for creating an engaging environment was clear, his questions encouraging Esha's input.

"You've got a great handle on this, Esha. It's not just about numbers; it's about vision," Aniket complimented sincerely.

Esha nodded, keeping the focus. "It's about the big picture and adapting our strategies to it."

Aniket proposed, "Why don't we do a joint report? Share our insights with the teams?"

Esha was intrigued, seeing the professional benefit. "That sounds like a good plan. Let's do it," she said, eager for the collaboration.

The time flew by, their conversation purely business. Aniket's enthusiasm was for the work, not personal, which Esha appreciated. It was a chance to engage professionally outside the office, maintaining her standards.

As they left, Aniket walked her to her car, still talking shop. "Thanks for the coffee, Aniket. It was productive," Esha said, her tone professional yet warm.

"Thanks for joining, Esha. Looking forward to our report," Aniket replied, his handshake friendly yet professional.

Driving home, Esha's mind was on the strategies they discussed.


Esha was working at home, the evening quiet except for her keyboard and the faint sounds of Kunal and Aditya. Her desk lamp lit up the reports she was reading when her phone buzzed with a message from Aniket:

Esha, there's an urgent matter with my portfolio. Can we do a quick video call?

It was late, but the urgency was clear. Esha responded:

Sure, give me a minute to set up.

She made sure she looked professional before starting the call. Her screen reflected her office, family photos in view. 

Aniket appeared, his expression serious. "Thanks for taking this call, Esha. I've noticed some unexpected movements in one of my investments."

Esha nodded, ready with the documents. "Let's look at that. Which asset?"

They discussed business, Esha easily navigating the data.

Suddenly, Aditya burst in, excited. "Mumma, look what I made!" He showed a drawing.

Esha smiled, guiding him out. "Later, sweetie. Mumma's in a meeting."

Aniket smiled. "No rush, let's see."

Aditya showed his drawing to the camera, explaining each figure. 

"Aditya, say hello to Uncle Aniket. He's one of Mumma's clients," Esha said.

"Hello, Uncle," Aditya waved before leaving.

Aniket chuckled. "He's talented. Nice to see this side of you, Esha."

Esha, back to business, "Thanks. Now, about that asset..."

Their talk continued with a new warmth. Aniket's questions became more conversational, influenced by the glimpse into Esha's life.

Esha explained with a bit more ease, "These fluctuations are part of a trend we've been tracking."

"It must be a juggling act," Aniket observed, looking at her family photos.

"It is, all about priorities and boundaries," Esha replied, still focused on work.

They agreed to monitor the situation, Esha promising an update. Aniket thanked her, appreciating her time management.

After the call, Esha returned to her work, the professional and personal momentarily intertwined.


In the weeks following the late-night video call where Aniket had inadvertently introduced a personal touch to Esha's professional life, the concept of a corporate retreat surfaced. Upper management saw it as a chance to enhance team collaboration, with Aniket's company as a key partner. Esha, wary of the mixing of personal and professional, saw the professional benefits and decided to join.

The retreat was in a scenic hill station near Mumbai, known for its peacefulness. The journey there gave Esha time to think about how she'd keep her professional lines clear.

The resort was impressive, blending modern comforts with nature. Esha felt a bit of her stress melt away as she settled into her room.

The day kicked off with strategy sessions, but the afternoon was for team-building, specifically an orienteering challenge. Esha dressed in a light blue kurti and jeans, ready for the task.

She was teamed up with Aniket, given a map and compass to find checkpoints representing business strategies. The forest setting made the atmosphere more casual.

Their talk started with work strategies but naturally drifted into Esha's leadership philosophy and her balance of work and life, though she kept personal details light.

"You have a unique perspective," Aniket said, genuinely interested as she navigated the map.

"It's about seeing the stories behind the numbers," Esha replied, focused yet aware of a growing connection.

They laughed at wrong turns, their teamwork strengthening, each checkpoint a small triumph in their partnership.

At the end, their high-five lingered, eyes locking in a moment of unspoken attraction, but Esha quickly re-established her professional stance.

The evening's barbecue under the stars was even more informal. Esha mixed with everyone, her talks with Aniket touching on books and art, keeping personal details minimal.

Aniket's charm was more evident in this setting, his usual authority softened by warmth. He respected Esha's dedication to both work and her approachable professionalism.

As the night ended, Esha felt the retreat had helped understand her colleagues better, including Aniket. She was aware of the chemistry but held firm to her professional and personal commitments.

Back in her cabin, she reflected on how the retreat had blurred some lines, but she had stayed focused on professional gains. Aniket now saw her not just as a manager but as someone with a compelling personal presence, complicating their dynamic. Yet, Esha was committed to handling this with the same care she gave to all aspects of her life.


The retreat's second day mixed professional workshops with family-friendly activities. The evening was for a bonfire gathering, a chance for colleagues to relax and share ideas.

Esha, dressed in an elegant kurta, arrived with Kunal and Aditya, the latter fascinated by the fire. Aniket was there, in casual attire, nodding a greeting to Esha, extending his smile to her family.

Esha introduced them, "Kunal, this is Aniket, a key client. Aniket, meet my husband, Kunal, and our son, Aditya."

Kunal shook hands with Aniket, "Nice to meet you. Esha says good things about your financial insights."

Aniket smiled, "Pleasure's mine, Kunal. Hi again, Aditya," acknowledging the boy who shyly waved.

Aditya was soon absorbed by the fire and stories. Kunal whispered to Esha, "I'll watch him. You talk shop," before focusing on Aditya.

Esha sat near Aniket, the bonfire creating a cozy, informal vibe. They talked about the day's sessions and future project impacts, keeping it professional.

Aditya, curious, interrupted, "Mumma, what are you talking about?"

"Big plans, like solving big puzzles," Esha explained simply.

Aniket playfully engaged, "Do you like puzzles, Aditya?" After Aditya's nod, he added, "Your mom's great at solving them."

Their shared look of appreciation was brief, but Esha felt a subtle connection.

When Aditya reached for wood to throw in the fire, Esha and Aniket simultaneously moved to stop him, their hands touching briefly. Esha pulled back, aware of her family.

Kunal, noticing, teased, "Team project, eh?" picking up a yawning Aditya, giving Esha a look that recognized her dual worlds, then nodded at Aniket, "Solving the world's problems?"

Aniket included Kunal in the conversation, discussing technology's role in business. "It's reshaping our strategies," he said, making sure both were engaged.

Esha managed the conversation with grace, pondering how to maintain her values in this setting.

As the night ended, Aniket said goodbye, his eyes on Esha for a moment longer. "Great discussion tonight," he said, his tone professional.

Kunal squeezed Esha's hand, "You managed well tonight." 

Esha smiled, feeling the warmth of her family, yet aware of the new layer in her interaction with Aniket. She leaned into Kunal, comforted by their bond.

[clearlover]

Part C

The week following the art gallery encounter had been uneventful, but the weather in Mumbai had shifted, bringing with it the promise of rain. Esha had a meeting scheduled with Aniket to discuss a new investment opportunity, one that arose from recent market fluctuations. They chose a café known for its warm ambiance, a place where the rain could be enjoyed from behind large windows.

Esha dressed in a saree that was both elegant and professional, a soft pastel shade that complemented her skin tone. The saree dbangd gracefully around her, accentuating her natural curves, the pallu flowing over one shoulder, subtly highlighting the delicate curve of her neck and the traditional jewelry she wore. Her long, dark hair was secured in a loose bun, with a few strands framing her face, enhancing the depth of her brown eyes, which seemed to hold both the warmth of her personality and the complexity of her life. Her smile was a blend of allure and caution, the epitome of a desi married beauty who carried the grace of tradition alongside the sharpness of a modern professional.

As she entered the café, the scent of rain mingled with the aroma of fresh coffee. Aniket was there, his presence always commanding, but today there was a hint of vulnerability in his eyes as they met hers. "Esha, you look..." he paused, searching for words, "exceptionally well today."

"Thank you, Aniket," Esha responded, her tone polite but carrying an undercurrent of caution. They sat, the table filled with documents, but the atmosphere was not entirely about business, the rain outside creating an intimate setting.

Their discussion was sharp, focused, Esha's insights cutting through the complexities of the market. However, Aniket's gaze occasionally drifted to her, captivated not just by her intellect but by the way her saree outlined her form, the way her eyes sparked with passion for her work. Her beauty was a blend of her traditional attire and the confidence of a woman who balanced multiple roles. It was this mix that had always intrigued him, and under the soft café lights, with rain setting a romantic mood, it was slowly breaking his resolve.

As they concluded their business talk, the rain grew heavier, trapping them in a bubble of time and space. Aniket suggested they wait out the downpour with a cup of chai. The conversation lightened, touching on personal victories and future dreams.

Their hands brushed while reaching for the chai, a touch that was like a spark in the damp air. Aniket's eyes met Esha's, holding a question, an invitation. There was a moment of silence, the rain's patter the only sound.

Esha, feeling the chemistry, was about to reclaim her space when Aniket, his voice barely above a whisper, said, "Esha, there's something about you, something that's hard to ignore."

Before she could respond, he leaned in, the kiss catching her off guard. It was a kiss that felt like the first drops of rain on parched earth, gentle yet overwhelming, his lips warm against hers, a taste of longing mixed with the forbidden. The sensation was electric, a rush of heat that contradicted the coolness of the rain outside, a moment where everything else faded into the background.

But then, the reality of what was happening hit Esha like a cold wave. She pulled back sharply, her voice cutting through the quiet, "Aniket, how could you? You've betrayed my trust!" Her tone was sharp, her eyes flashing with the betrayal she felt, the trust she had placed in him as a colleague now shattered.

Aniket, realizing the gravity of his actions, was quick to apologize, his voice laced with regret, "Esha, I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have..." He knew he had crossed a line that couldn't be uncrossed, his attraction to her overwhelming his judgment.

Esha stood abruptly, her body language now defensive, the warmth of the kiss replaced by the chill of her resolve. "I need to leave," she said, her voice firm, her mind already grappling with the implications of this moment, not yet ready to delve into the emotional turmoil it had stirred.

She walked out into the easing rain, leaving Aniket to sit with his thoughts, the kiss still lingering on his lips, a reminder of a boundary crossed and a trust betrayed. He regretted his impulsiveness, knowing he had jeopardized not just their professional relationship but something far more delicate.

Esha, as she hurried away from the café, felt the rain on her skin, but inside, she was already wrestling with the storm of emotions that would soon engulf her, the kiss a catalyst for a turmoil she was not yet prepared to face.


The rain had ceased by the time Esha got home, but inside her, a storm continued. The kiss with Aniket replayed in her mind, each memory a jolt of guilt. Her home, usually a haven, now felt like a place to conceal her inner conflict. She entered, the warmth of her family welcoming her, yet she avoided their eyes, weighed down by what she felt was her betrayal.

Kunal was in the living room, smiling at her return, reading to Aditya. "You're back early," he said, his voice warm with love.

Esha gave a weak smile, her response hushed, "Yes, the rain stopped," as she avoided looking at him, guilt eating at her.

Aditya, unaware of her turmoil, showed her a drawing. "Mumma, look, us at the beach!" His joy was a stark contrast to her inner turmoil.

"It's beautiful, Aditya," Esha said, her voice faltering, meeting his eyes for a second before looking away, feeling like she'd betrayed him too.

Kunal sensed something was wrong but thought it was work stress. "Everything okay at the office?" he asked, genuinely concerned.

"Just a long day," Esha answered mechanically, the lie adding to her sense of betrayal. She excused herself to the bathroom, desperate to wash away the kiss's memory.

Alone, she faced her reflection, seeing not herself but someone who'd crossed a forbidden line. Her hands trembled as she splashed water on her face, trying to wash away the guilt.

Dinner was quiet, Esha barely eating, her mind stuck on the kiss, the warmth of Aniket's breath. Part of her had wanted it, which made her feel she'd wronged Kunal and their family.

Kunal, noticing her disinterest in food, reached for her hand. "You seem different tonight. What's wrong?"

Esha withdrew, the touch feeling accusatory. "I'm just tired. I'll go to bed early," she said, her voice laden with emotion, holding back tears.

In bed, she lay awake, torn between love for her family and the confusion from Aniket's kiss. She questioned her loyalty, her happiness.

The next morning, she avoided Kunal's gaze, her interactions with Aditya mechanical. She left early for work, seeking escape.

At work, she threw herself into tasks, but her thoughts kept returning to the kiss. Her usual warmth was replaced by a cold efficiency, her colleagues noticing the change.

Her phone vibrated with a message from Aniket:

I'm sorry, Esha. Can we talk?

She stared, feeling both anger and complicity. Ignoring it, she hardened her resolve to avoid him.

By day's end, she was exhausted, the internal battle draining. Kunal greeted her with a kiss, which she flinched at, reigniting her guilt. "Esha, what's wrong?" he asked, deeply concerned.

"Nothing, I'm just not feeling well," she said, close to tears.

Kunal suggested rest, but lying beside him felt too intimate. She chose the couch, needing space, another small lie.

Alone, she cried, feeling she'd dishonored her family and herself. Her love was unchanged, but her guilt was overwhelming.

What if Kunal found out? She pondered this, feeling on the edge of losing everything.

The following day, she felt physically and emotionally drained. At work, she was a shadow, making mistakes she never would have before. 

Aniket's message remained unanswered, his presence a constant reminder. She considered a job change but feared the questions it would raise with Kunal.

She skipped lunch, her appetite gone, spending her break lost in thought. Confessing to Kunal seemed impossible, each scenario ending in loss.

Returning home, she felt more isolated, the distance from her family growing. She avoided dinner, claiming work, and alone in her office, her guilt turned physical, feeling ill.

Kunal checked on her, his concern clear. "Esha, you're not well. Talk to me."

Esha couldn't meet his eyes, her voice breaking. "I just need time. I'll be fine."

He left her, his worry palpable. Esha knew she needed to heal, to move past this, but the path was unclear. She sat in the dark, her turmoil mirroring the night outside.

The days following the kiss had been a tangled web of emotions for Aniket. He moved through his routines like an automaton, his mind constantly replaying that moment in the café with Esha. The rain, the warmth of her lips, the shock in her eyes—it was all etched into his memory, a beautiful yet tormenting slideshow.

In his office, he sat staring out at Mumbai's skyline, but his thoughts were far from the city's pulse. Instead, they lingered on Esha—her professional poise, the way her saree dbangd around her, the depth in her eyes when she spoke of her family. Despite knowing she was married, with a son, the attraction he felt was undeniable, a force that seemed to grow each time he thought of her.

He knew he had to apologize, not just for the breach of trust but for the confusion he might have caused her. Yet, he also wanted her to understand the depth of his feelings, even if those feelings were complicated by their professional relationship and her personal life. He decided to write a letter, an act that felt both archaic and intimate:

Esha,

I write this to express my deepest apologies for the other day. I crossed a line that should not have been crossed, and for that, I am truly sorry. My actions were inappropriate, especially given your commitment to your family and our professional relationship.

However, I must also be honest with myself and with you. That kiss was an impulsive act borne from a moment where your beauty and the connection we've built through our work overwhelmed my judgment. I see you not only as a brilliant colleague but as someone whose presence has inexplicably brightened my days.

I respect your marriage, your life with your son. My intentions are not to disrupt that, but I needed to convey how much you've impacted me, how every interaction with you adds a layer of richness to my life that I hadn't anticipated.

I will keep my distance, respecting your space and your choices, but I hope this letter can start the process of mending what I've damaged. Your professionalism, your integrity, they are qualities I admire and wish to continue to respect.

Sincerely,

Aniket

He sealed the letter, his heart racing as he left it in the office mail, knowing it would reach her desk without him having to face her directly. The act felt like both a release and a new kind of bind, connecting him to her through words that spoke of his regret and his undeniable attraction.

At home, lying in bed, Aniket was haunted by her image. Not the Esha he knew from meetings and discussions but the woman he glimpsed in that fleeting touch, the softness of her lips, the warmth of her breath. He knew he was treading into dangerous waters, but his mind couldn't help but wander into fantasies where that moment was not a mistake but a beginning.

His thoughts were filled with her; the way her saree might feel under his touch, the sound of her laughter, the way her eyes might look if she ever returned his feelings. He was aware that these were dangerous thoughts, especially considering their limited interactions so far, but the kiss had opened a Pandora's box of desires.

He turned, the bed feeling too empty, his body yearning for a closeness that was both forbidden and alluring. His mind painted pictures of exploring the intimacy they could share if boundaries were different, if their lives were not as they were. These thoughts were erotic, not just in the physical sense but in the emotional depth he imagined, the connection that went beyond the professional respect they had cultivated.

As sleep finally took him, his dreams were of Esha, not as the woman he barely knew but as the one he wanted to know in every way, a dream where their kiss was just the beginning of a passionate exploration, a narrative of desire that was as real as it was unattainable in their current reality.


Aniket's routine now included a mix of hope and strategy following the letter he sent to Esha, which had stirred their professional waters. No response came, leaving him in a state of both relief and unrest.

He continued his efforts to apologize and show admiration from afar, aiming to repair their relationship while hinting at his deeper feelings. He started with gifts that were thoughtful yet professional.

First, he sent a rare financial magazine, focusing on a topic they'd discussed. The note read:

*Esha,

I thought this might interest you. It reminded me of our conversation about emerging markets.

With respect,

A*

He kept his identity anonymous to give her space.

Next, a custom bookmark reminiscent of their gallery visit arrived at her desk with a note:

For your next great read.

These gestures were chosen with care, reflecting their common interests but remaining professional.

During team meetings, Aniket publicly acknowledged Esha's contributions, hoping to rebuild trust and respect. His emails were strictly business but carried subtle hints of admiration:

Esha, your analysis on the portfolio adjustments was spot-on. You have a keen eye for detail that I truly appreciate.

Each action was a step towards mending their professional bond while keeping his personal feelings alive, balanced between expression and respect.

At home, his thoughts roamed freely. He imagined being close to Esha again, seeing her smile in more than just business settings, sharing laughter and passion. The memory of their kiss fueled fantasies that mixed regret with desire, envisioning moments of mutual longing.

He dreamt of touching her, not in haste but with consent, exploring the texture of her saree, the softness of her skin, the scent of her hair. These thoughts were erotic, not just physically but for the emotional connection he craved.

These were dreams, however, based on fleeting moments of connection, where professional respect had turned personal. Aniket was patient, believing his subtle charm might slowly sway Esha, even if she showed no signs of it yet.

Aniket was caught between longing and strategy, trying to reach Esha without crossing her boundaries. Knowing direct contact was off-limits, he opted for subtle gestures to repair their relationship and perhaps fan the embers of something more.

He discovered Esha's love for poetry from a colleague, sparking an idea. He began leaving unsigned poems around her workspace, hidden in financial documents or under her door:

In the quiet of the office,a melody of numbers and charts,there blooms a flower unseen,beauty in the form of art.

Your grace, a silent symphony,in every meeting, every task,a reminder of life's poetry,in the simplest of moments, masked.

He hoped these would intrigue her, maybe even bring a smile, without revealing who sent them.

He also sent jasmine flowers on the day of her big presentation, the card simply stating:

For inspiration.-A

Esha was moved by these anonymous acts of kindness, yet cautious, her heart still healing from the kiss. She suspected Aniket but avoided confirming it, fearing it would challenge her resolve.

At home, reading the poems, she was momentarily captivated by the sentiment, feeling seen. But her love for Kunal and Aditya quickly grounded her.

Aniket's thoughts were a mix of desire and respect. The kiss lingered in his mind, fueling fantasies where his words could lead to more. He imagined her response to his poetry, the possibility of their bond deepening into something physical, intimate.

Yet, he knew these were fantasies built on fleeting moments, complicated by their one impulsive kiss. His gestures were meant to charm, but he respected Esha's guarded heart, her commitments.

As days went by, Aniket kept up his quiet pursuit, balancing hope with respect. Esha felt the tug of these gestures, an internal struggle against acknowledging the growing connection she felt she should resist.


Lunch was a blur for Esha, her thoughts consumed by the anonymous gifts and poems. They stirred feelings she'd kept locked away, the poems speaking of her beauty and strength in a way that both warmed and conflicted her.

The idea that Aniket might be behind this was comforting yet unsettling. The café kiss had been a breach, leading to guilt, but these gifts suggested a deeper connection.

"I'm not a teenager," Esha whispered to herself. "I have a family, responsibilities." The thought of Kunal and Aditya brought guilt; how could she feel for someone else?

Priya, her friend and family confidante, sat down across from her. "What's happening with you and Aniket?" she asked gently, sensing Esha's turmoil.

Esha was surprised. "How do you know about Aniket?"

"He's been asking about your interests," Priya said softly. "Are those poems from him?"

The revelation made Esha's emotions surge—betrayal, confusion, and a strange validation. Tears fell as she shared everything with Priya: the kiss, the guilt, the gifts, her conflicting feelings.

Priya listened, empathizing deeply. "Esha, having feelings doesn't make you guilty. You're more than just a wife or mother; you're a person with your own emotions. What happened with Aniket doesn't change your love for your family."

"But I feel I've betrayed them," Esha said, her voice shaky.

Priya comforted her, "Feeling for someone else isn't betrayal. Your heart has room for love and other emotions. You're human, Esha."

Esha found relief in Priya's understanding. "But what about these feelings? I can't act on them."

"You don't have to act," Priya advised, "just acknowledge them. You're good at balancing life; this is just another challenge."

As they talked, Esha shared her fear of losing her identity. "I'm not the woman Kunal married, not the mother Aditya needs."

"You're still that woman, just more layered," Priya reassured her. "Love is about growth, not loss. Kunal and Aditya love all of you."

Esha felt a bit of her burden lift, sharing her secret. Priya's words didn't solve everything but gave Esha space to be honest about her feelings.

Leaving the conversation, Esha felt the comfort of having Priya's understanding. She returned to her desk with lighter steps, her mind clearer, contemplating how to reconcile her new emotions with her cherished family life.

[clearlover]

Part D

Priya's words had eased Esha's mind, giving her a break from the guilt she felt after kissing Aniket. Realizing her feelings didn't mean betrayal helped, but it didn't make her forgive or accept what Aniket did.

After talking with Priya, Esha focused more on her work, particularly when dealing with Aniket. She was more confident, knowing her personal issues didn't affect her professionalism. However, she kept her guard up around Aniket, protecting her heart.

In meetings with Aniket, Esha was strictly professional, her answers to his questions were direct, without warmth. She avoided looking at him, focusing on anything else.

Aniket noticed the change; Esha was now cold, her responses brief, her eyes never meeting his. He realized his gifts and poems hadn't had the effect he intended.

Esha saw those gifts and poems as going against her values now. She believed a married woman shouldn't accept such gestures from anyone but her husband. Feeling even a hint of delight from them seemed like betraying Kunal's trust, which made her more determined to keep distance from Aniket.

In one meeting, when Aniket asked about market trends, Esha replied without even glancing his way, her voice steady but lacking her usual passion. "We should take a cautious approach for now," she said, her eyes elsewhere.

Aniket felt the pain of her avoidance, understanding how much their relationship had changed due to his actions. He respected her work ethic but also saw the wall she'd built between them, one he'd contributed to.

After the meeting, he stayed back, hoping for a chance to fix things, but Esha was quick to leave, her focus on work, signaling no room for personal talk.

Watching her leave, Aniket felt regret and a longing he knew he must control. His gestures, meant as an apology and a professional reconnection, had only pushed her away more.

Back at her desk, Esha felt both relief for maintaining her work integrity and sadness for the lost camaraderie with Aniket. She knew she had to shield her heart and family from further turmoil. The gifts and poems reminded her to keep boundaries firm.

Her mind was set: she wouldn't lower her guard, committed to her family, ensuring Aniket's advances found no response. She needed to stay cold and distant to avoid crossing any more lines.


The evening was set for a team dinner to celebrate a project's success, the restaurant has an elegant ambiance. Esha chose a deep blue saree, its fabric hugging her curves in a way that was both professional and seductively subtle. Even as she radiated calm, she felt a pulse of tension at the thought of Aniket's presence.

Aniket arrived with a mix of hope and desperation, his gaze immediately finding Esha, her eyes alight with a mystery he longed to unravel.

Seated apart yet close, the air between them was charged with unspoken words. The conversation around them was lively, but the tension between Esha and Aniket was palpable, drawing curious glances.

Priya, next to Esha, was the evening's spark, her laughter a counterpoint to Esha's reserved demeanor. She sensed the dynamics, Esha's cold professionalism, and Aniket's longing looks.

Aniket, feeling the divide, used Priya as his conduit, whispering, "Tell Esha I respect how she managed the project. Her insights were invaluable."

Priya played along, turning to Esha with a teasing smile. "Aniket admires your project management. Says you made the difference."

Esha's cheeks warmed, her response guarded. "Thank you, but it was a team effort," she said, her eyes briefly catching Aniket's before darting away.

Priya relayed this back, "She says thanks, but teamwork did it." 

Aniket's smile was soft, his eyes saying more. He nodded, his look lingering on Esha, feeling the weight of their separation.

Throughout the meal, Priya became the bridge for their communication, Aniket's questions about Esha's strategies answered through her, each exchange a dance of words, a step towards or away from each other.

Priya, with her bold humor, whispered to Esha, "He's practically hanging on your words, Esha. Or should I say, my words about you."

Esha felt irritation mixed with an exciting thrill, her heart drawn to Aniket's attention, yet her mind pulling her back to her family. "Priya, please," she murmured, her voice a mix of warning and hidden amusement.

Priya continued, her tone suggestive, "Imagine you two together. The energy, the connection... like puzzle pieces meant to fit but afraid to."

Esha's breath caught at the thought, her eyes drifting to Aniket, who seemed drawn to their conversation. The chemistry was electric, forbidden yet palpable.

A toast broke the spell of laughter , but Esha felt Aniket's gaze, a silent plea for connection. She knew she should look away, but there was something in his eyes tonight, making her feel seen, desired in a way that stirred forbidden desires.

Priya whispered again, her voice understanding, "You can't ignore this, Esha. Like two stars in the sky, drawn yet afraid to touch."

Esha shook her head, focusing on her plate, her thoughts on her family, yet the pull was there, the desire to explore this connection.

As dinner ended, Aniket made his move through Priya, his voice sincere, "Tell her I respect her life but can't help how I feel. I'd like to be friends."

Priya softly conveyed this, "He respects your choices but can't change his feelings. Wants to be friends."

Esha's eyes met Aniket's across the table, an acknowledgment of their undeniable chemistry. Yet, her response was firm, "Tell him thank you, but we should keep it professional."

Priya nodded, relaying the message, the atmosphere cooling with the reality of their situation. Aniket's expression was resigned, the longing still clear in his eyes.

The dinner concluded with handshakes, Esha still feeling the night's tension linger, her heart anchored to her commitments. Aniket left, the image of Esha in her saree etched in his memory.

Esha walked away, aware of the dance they had performed, every look, every word through Priya, a step closer or further from each other. She knew she must guard her heart more fiercely now.


The office was back to its routine, but Aniket's days were filled with a longing he could no longer ignore. Spotting Priya in the break room, he saw his chance to speak his truth.

He approached with an unusual gravity, and Priya, sensing something serious, invited him to sit.

"Aniket, what's up?" Priya asked, her voice soft with concern.

Taking a deep breath, Aniket spoke rapidly, "I need to talk about Esha. I've made mistakes, but these feelings aren't disappearing. I need your help."

Priya's eyes showed sympathy as she listened. "What kind of help?"

"I just want to express how I feel, no expectations. I don't want to mess up her life, but I can't keep this bottled up," he said, his voice a mix of hope and pain.

Priya sighed, understanding the complexity. "Esha's family to me. She's married, has a kid. It's complicated."

"I know, I respect her marriage. But I need her to know how I feel, even if it changes nothing," Aniket said, his fists tight.

Priya looked at him intently. "I'll tell her, but remember, Esha isn't like me. I might choose differently, but she values her family, her marriage, more than anything."

Aniket gave a resigned smile. "I know. It's just about respect, admiration."

"I'll talk to her," Priya said, her heart heavy. "But for your own good, try to move on. Esha's heart is already given."

Aniket's gaze dropped, his spirit sagging. "I've tried, every day. But seeing her, it's like ignoring the sun."

Priya chuckled, lightening the mood. "You're such a romantic. If only life was poetry." She then added, "I'll tell her, but don't expect wonders."

After Aniket left, Priya pondered the tangled emotions, knowing she must share his feelings with Esha carefully.


Priya had picked a charming cafe, known for its privacy and the comfort, perfect for intimate talks away from prying ears. She had invited Esha to catch up, but her real aim was to delve into the unspoken connection between Esha and Aniket.

Esha, in an elegant kurta, sat across from Priya at a secluded table, the sun casting a warm light over them. She was tense, sensing this was more than just a casual chat.

Priya began, her voice low and sincere, "Esha, I talked to Aniket. He's more than just taken with you. He respects your marriage but can't help his feelings for you."

Esha's eyes narrowed, a blend of suspicion and curiosity. "Why are you telling me this, Priya? You know where I stand."

Priya leaned forward, her words adding depth to Aniket's admission. "He dreams of you, Esha. Not just professionally. He imagines a closeness, something beyond work."

Esha's cheeks colored with embarrassment and frustration. "Priya, you're crossing a line. Think about Kunal, my family. What are you trying to do?"

Unfazed, Priya leaned back, her feminist beliefs clear. "I'm not leading you astray. I'm pushing for honesty, for recognizing our feelings don't always fit into boxes."

"And Kunal? How do you think he'd feel?" Esha countered sharply.

Priya's voice softened. "Kunal loves all of you, not just the roles you play. Exploring your feelings doesn't mean acting on them."

The conversation veered into playfulness when Priya, with a mischievous look, teased, "Imagine the two of you, completely free, no clothes, no barriers, just raw, mutual understanding."

Esha was shocked, "Priya! That's out of line. I'm not living in your fantasies."

Priya laughed, enjoying the reaction. "A bit of imagination never hurt. I'm not suggesting you do anything; just consider what might be if there were no consequences."

Esha was firm, "This isn't some alternate reality, Priya. This is my real life, with real responsibilities."

Priya nodded, her tone turning serious. "I get it. But sometimes, just thinking about what could be helps us value what we have. It's about understanding your desires, not changing your life."

Leaving the cafe, Esha was a mix of emotions, irritated yet introspective. Priya's provocative words had unearthed feelings Esha had tried to bury, making her reflect on her own desires, her human side.

As they parted, Esha's mind was a storm of thoughts. She knew she wouldn't act, but the conversation had sparked an awareness of her own complex heart, challenging her to look beyond her commitments.

The chat with Priya had Esha deep in thought. Aniket's gifts and poems, once viewed as improper, now resonated differently. They were not just gestures of affection but signs of admiration, making her feel seen beyond her roles. This attention sparked a secret thrill she wouldn't admit aloud.

Choosing to soften her stance towards Aniket, Esha sought to rebuild their professional rapport, keeping it strictly business. She realized that his actions, though misguided, came from a place of sincere regard.

Their first notable interaction after Priya's insights was during a pivotal meeting. When Aniket's strategy was questioned, Esha supported him, "I agree with Aniket here. The data calls for caution."

Aniket's eyes showed surprise and gratitude, marking a change in their interaction.

In the break room, over coffee, there was a moment of levity. "I owe you one for today," Aniket grinned.

"No debts," Esha smiled back, genuinely. "It's all for the clients."

This shared moment was like ice melting, thawing the chill between them. Esha felt a warmth she'd denied herself since the café incident, seeing Aniket as the colleague she once respected.

Seizing the moment, Aniket suggested, "There's an ethics seminar coming up. Might be good for us. Interested?"

Esha's first reaction was to decline, to maintain distance, but she thought of Priya's presence as a buffer. "I'll go, with Priya. It could be informative," she said, her voice professional but cautious.

Aniket nodded, understanding her need for a safeguard. "That sounds perfect."

Agreeing, Esha felt a blend of anticipation and confidence. She was set on keeping things professional, yet there was a part of her that relished the feeling of being admired. She knew the risks but trusted Priya's presence to keep her on track.

Back at her desk, Esha pondered the evolving dynamic with Aniket. She wasn't naive; she saw the potential pitfalls in allowing too much warmth. Yet, she also understood the mistake in completely blocking him out. Maybe they could find a middle ground where professional respect was key, and any personal warmth was just that - warmth, not passion.

Her thoughts oscillated between determination and curiosity. She navigated this fine line, feeling more secure with Priya's support. Aniket had indeed touched something in her, not with intent but through his actions, showing genuine appreciation. In this acknowledgment, Esha saw a way to coexist professionally, one step at a time, keeping her heart guarded while extending a hand in professional friendship.

[clearlover]

Part E

The financial ethics seminar was held in an upscale conference center. Esha arrived with Priya, her presence as a reminder of her professional boundaries. Aniket was there, his anticipation mixed with professionalism, his eyes briefly locking with Esha's before focusing on the day's agenda.

The schedule was filled with talks and workshops, but it was in a breakout session on ethics where Esha and Aniket were paired. The case study they tackled mirrored their own situation, where personal ethics met professional duties.

Esha felt the weight of Priya's watchful eye but kept her composure. Their dialogue started formally but soon delved into personal ethics.

"It's all about balance, right? Between beliefs and job demands," Esha said thoughtfully.

Aniket nodded, his eyes showing deep understanding. "Our personal beliefs often seep into our work, whether we like it or not."

They explored the nuances of integrity and personal sacrifice, with Esha sharing more than she meant to, stories from her past, the values she was raised with, and the daily juggle between work and home.

Aniket listened intently, his gaze reflecting empathy. He spoke of his journey from pure ambition to seeking personal fulfillment.

Priya noticed the chemistry, how Esha's passion animated her, how Aniket's gaze softened. During a break, she commented, "You two are really in sync. It's nice to see this connection."

Esha was defensive, "It's just the topic, nothing more."

Priya gave a knowing smile, "Maybe, but sometimes professional connections become personal. It's okay to recognize that, Esha."

Esha felt the discomfort of her inner turmoil being seen, knowing Priya was right but reluctant to admit it.

The seminar ended with a networking event, the atmosphere turning festive. Esha found herself drawn to Aniket, their conversations shifting to life's dreams and ethics. As drinks flowed, their talk became more intimate.

Aniket shared his vision for a venture driven by impact, not just profit. Esha admired this new side of him, sharing her own dreams for Aditya, for a life where work and family harmonized.

Their conversation was punctuated by laughter and meaningful looks. Priya, observing, intervened with playful prodding, "You're glowing, Esha. It's like you've rediscovered a part of yourself."

Esha's defenses went up, "It's not like that, Priya. We're discussing work."

Priya laughed, "Is that what you believe? You're passionate about life, Esha. Feeling a connection isn't wrong."

Esha looked away, her heart racing, "I'm married, Priya. This isn't about passion but boundaries."

Priya squeezed her hand, "I know, but acknowledging feelings helps us understand ourselves. It doesn't mean you're less committed to Kunal or Aditya."

As the night wound down, Esha and Aniket lingered, their talk endless. Walking out, their hands brushed, sending a jolt through Esha, reminding her of the fine line she walked.

Aniket apologized for the accidental touch, "I didn't mean for that."

Esha shook her head, "It's fine, it's just... a lot."

That night, Esha reflected on the day, the connection, the touch, with Priya's words echoing in her mind. She felt drawn to Aniket in ways she hadn't anticipated, questioning her own heart's complexity.

The next day at the office, Esha was more reflective. Priya noticed during lunch, "You're thinking about last night, aren't you?"

Esha admitted, "I can't stop thinking about how connected I felt."

"It's okay to feel that way, Esha. It's human," Priya reassured her. "You can have meaningful connections without crossing lines."

Esha was torn, "How do I manage these feelings?"

"Be honest with yourself," Priya advised. "Acknowledge them, but you control your actions, not your emotions."

This conversation with Priya provided Esha with comfort, seeing her feelings as part of her growth, not a threat. She decided to keep things professional with Aniket, valuing their connection for its intellectual and emotional depth, while carefully guarding her heart.


Since the seminar, Esha couldn't shake thoughts of Aniket from her mind. His voice, his gaze, it all stirred a conflict within her, between duty and desire.

A conference in Delhi was announced, and Esha, along with Priya, was going. She felt both excited and nervous about the trip, knowing she'd have to explain this to her family.

At dinner, she told Kunal and Aditya, "I'm going to a conference in Delhi for two days. It's important for my career."

Kunal smiled, supportive, "You'll do great. When do you leave?"

"Tomorrow," Esha said, watching him. "Priya's coming with me."

"Can I go too, Mumma?" Aditya asked innocently.

Esha laughed, ruffling his hair, "Next time, my love. I'll bring you something special."

Kunal squeezed her hand, "Focus on the conference. Remember, you represent our family too."

His words grounded her but also reminded her of the tug-of-war between her professional and personal life.

The next morning, the airport was a hive of activity, a cacophony of voices and the clatter of luggage. Esha, in a stylish salwar kameez, felt the weight of her suitcase and her situation. Priya's laughter beside her was a comforting contrast to Esha's nervous energy.

At the gate, Esha's heart skipped when she saw Aniket. His sudden appearance was like a jolt to her system.

"Aniket?" Priya gasped, her surprise real. "What brings you here?"

Aniket's smile was warm, mischievous, "I'm speaking at the conference. Didn't know you'd be here too."

Esha's heart raced, her composure slipping. "What a coincidence," she managed to say, her voice steady despite her internal turmoil.

Priya teased, nudging Esha, "Seems like fate wants you two together."

Esha gave a polite smile, her mind racing with what this could mean. "Priya, please," she whispered, unsure how to handle this.

The conference was all business, but the evening's event was different—a dinner on a lawn under the stars, with romantic tunes filling the air. The ambiance was seductive, the air scented with flowers.

Esha chose a soft drink, while Priya and Aniket sipped wine. The lawn was lit up beautifully, the singer's voice adding to the night's allure.

With wine in her, Priya turned playful, "Look at Esha, the epitome of beauty. That saree hugs her like a second skin, poetry in motion."

Esha's cheeks flushed, feeling the intimacy of the setting. "Priya, stop," she murmured, embarrassed yet thrilled.

Priya continued, "Why keep such beauty hidden? Esha, you should be admired, appreciated as a woman."

Aniket's eyes were fixed on Esha, each of Priya's words stoking his desire, making him imagine the possibilities.

Drunkenly, Priya leaned in, whispering with a hint of scandal, "Imagine the stories your body could tell, Esha. The passion, the desire, the forbidden touches in the dark."

Esha's breath quickened, feeling both embarrassed and aroused by Priya's words, aware of Aniket's gaze caressing her. She felt an urge to both retreat and embrace the moment.

As they left, Priya teased, "You should explore this tension. It's good to feel alive, desired."

Esha's response was tight, "Priya, enough."

But Priya laughed, her mischief clear. By the elevators, she whispered loudly, "You're adults. See where the night takes you."

On their floor, Priya pushed Esha into Aniket's arms, her voice playful, "Take care of her, Aniket. Let her feel everything."

With a final push, she sent them into Aniket's room, her laughter echoing, leaving Esha and Aniket in a moment charged with possibility.

[clearlover]

PART F


In Aniket's room, the air was electric with tension and desire. Esha's heart hammered against her chest as she tried to step away, her voice a blend of determination and panic. "Aniket, let me go. This isn't right. I can't betray Kunal, my marriage."

Aniket's eyes were a storm of emotions, but he stepped back, his gaze locked on her. "I know, Esha. I respect your marriage. But tonight... Priya wasn't thinking straight. This is on us."

Esha nodded, understanding the truth in his words. "She was drunk. She didn't mean it."

The room seemed to shrink, every breath charged. Aniket saw a chance not just to claim her but to perhaps mend the distance between them. "Before you leave, name five things you admire about me, and I'll let you go."

Esha tried to lighten the mood, to reclaim control. "Well, there's the age difference. A 42-year-old man lusting after a 32-year-old woman... that's one."

Aniket chuckled, his tone warm yet serious. "Forget the age. Five real things, Esha."

Taking a deep breath, Esha's eyes met his, feeling the pull. "One, your intelligence. The way you handle complexity is captivating." 

As she spoke, Aniket edged closer, until he was just within reach of the door.

"Two, your dedication to your work. I truly admire that."

"Three, your charm," she admitted, her voice softer, the room closing in.

"Four, your respect for others, even when it's hard."

"And five," she whispered, her breath hitching, "your eyes... they see me in ways I sometimes can't see myself."

As she finished, Aniket gently pushed her against the door, closing it with a soft click, sealing them off from the world. "Now, it's my turn," he said, his voice low, dripping with seduction.

He moved closer, his hands framing her face, thumbs brushing her cheeks. "Your lips," he murmured, his breath hot against her skin, "they're so fucking inviting, meant to be kissed, tasted."

Esha's heart raced, her resistance dissolving with his words.

"Your eyes," he continued, his gaze intense, "they tell stories of passion, of a life I've wanted to be part of since I first kissed you."

Before she could protest, Aniket lifted her, carrying her to his bedroom. In the dim light, clothes were shed, revealing their nakedness to each other's hungry eyes. His hands roamed her body, tracing every curve with a worshipful touch.

He laid her on the bed, his body following, the connection sparking instantly. Aniket's hands explored, igniting desire along her skin. His lips met hers in a kiss that promised more, deep and claiming.

Positioning himself, his hard cock teased her entrance. "You're more beautiful than I imagined," he whispered, voice thick with want.

Slowly, he entered her, the sensation overwhelming. Esha gasped, her body arching to take him in, a moan escaping as he filled her. "Aniket...," she breathed, her voice laden with pleasure and surrender.

Their rhythm was deliberate, each thrust a declaration of longing. Aniket's voice was a low, primal growl in her ear, praising her tightness, how she welcomed him, her responsiveness to his touch. "Your body... a fucking masterpiece," he murmured, pace quickening with need.

Esha's nails dug into his back, her moans growing louder, filling the room with the sounds of their union. She felt every inch of him, the way he moved inside her, igniting denied desires.

The room echoed with their lovemaking—the wet sounds of their bodies, whispered adoration, gasps of pleasure. Aniket praised her breasts, their movement with each thrust, her nipples hardening under his touch. He whispered about her skin's taste, her hair's feel, each word intensifying the moment.

As climax approached, their movements were urgent, raw. Esha was lost in sensation, her body in sync with his, her moans turning to cries as waves of orgasm crashed over her. Aniket followed, his release a deep groan, his body shuddering, their climax leaving them breathless.

After, they lay together, skin on skin, breathing slowing. Aniket's touch was gentle now, kisses soft on her forehead. Esha was overwhelmed by the intimacy, the betrayal of her vows, yet the undeniable connection they'd shared, leaving them to navigate their desires.

"What have I done?" The question echoed in Esha's mind, a relentless scream as the heat of her passion cooled, leaving nothing but a cold realization in its wake. She felt like she was waking from a dream, or perhaps a nightmare, her body still tingling from Aniket's touch, yet her heart sinking into despair. She ran from his room, the door slamming shut behind her like a judgment on her actions.

Back in her own room, she checked her phone, only to find several missed calls from Kunal. The sight of his name on the screen was like a stab of guilt through her heart. She had been so caught up in the whirlwind of Priya's teasing, Aniket's charm, and her own bodily desires that she hadn't even remembered to switch her phone from silent mode after the conference. The realization made her feel even more disconnected from her life, from her responsibilities.

She rushed to the bathroom, desperate to wash away the remnants of her betrayal, the scent of Aniket that clung to her skin like a confession. But as the water flowed, it seemed powerless against the stains of her conscience, the memories of their intimacy that would not be washed away.

That night, Esha sat outside her bathroom, her body curled into a fetal, tears streaming down her face. The guilt was overwhelming, her sobs quiet but fierce, a proof to the battle within her. She wrestled with her desires and her duties, the love for her family and the thrill of what she had just experienced with Aniket.

Morning came with the first light of the sun peeking through her hotel room window, offering a sliver of comfort. Exhausted from her emotional turmoil, Esha finally fell asleep, but it was a restless, sick sleep, her dreams haunted by the faces of those she loved.

She was jolted awake by a violent thud on her door. She tried to ignore it, hoping it would be a dream, but as the knocking grew louder, desperation in each thump, she composed herself. With a heavy heart, she opened the door to find Priya, her face etched with concern, and Aniket, who quickly moved out of sight once he saw Esha was safe.

Priya didn't wait for an invitation; she entered, her presence commanding. Before Esha could voice her turmoil, Priya spoke with an authority that left no room for argument. "Get ready for the conference, Esha. We've got day two to get through."

"I need to be alone," Esha muttered, her voice weak, her eyes swollen from crying.

But Priya was relentless, her tone sharp yet laced with concern. "No, you don't. You'll spiral into self-loathing if I leave you alone. Now, get ready."

Esha, feeling the weight of her friend's command, complied out of exhaustion rather than agreement. She moved like a ghost, her actions mechanical. She didn't care for her appearance, her reflection a stark reminder of her inner chaos. Priya, seeing this, quickly applied makeup to mask the evidence of Esha's tears, the swollen eyes a silent approval to her night of regret.

Throughout the first session of the conference, Priya held Esha's hand, offering silent support, her touch a lifeline in Esha's sea of guilt. The rest of the day was filled with formal meetings where Esha's presence was required more for formality than contribution, her mind elsewhere, her heart heavy.

Sensing Esha needed space away from the conference's pretense, Priya led her away from the venue. In a quieter part of the hotel, Priya's words took on a more confrontational tone. "This is why I never want to get married, Esha. What you and Aniket shared was just sex, a bodily need like food or water."

Esha looked away, her shame palpable, but Priya continued, her voice rising in frustration. "This patriarchal world, these human-made customs, they want us to follow rules that only bind women. If Kunal had done this, would he be tearing himself apart? I know men who juggle multiple affairs without a second thought!"

Priya's words were like a balm and a blade. "I've seen the desire in your eyes for Aniket, Esha. That's why I pushed you towards him. Because sometimes, we need to explore our desires to understand ourselves, not because I advocate for infidelity, but because we're human."

Her strong words didn't erase Esha's turmoil or make everything hunky-dory, but they gave her the strength to stand, to move on her own without clinging to Priya for support. They were a reminder of the complexity of human emotions, of the gray areas in life where right and wrong blur.

Once back at the conference venue, Priya sought out Aniket, her voice low but firm. "Give her space, Aniket. Don't approach her for a few days. Esha will come back to you soon."

Aniket nodded, his face a mask of concern and regret, his own heart heavy with the implications of their night together. He watched Esha from a distance, seeing her composed exterior but knowing the storm within. 

Esha, for her part, felt like she was walking through the day under a heavy cloud. Each step was an effort, each smile forced, but Priya's words echoed in her mind, giving her a sliver of perspective on her actions. She wasn't absolved, not by a long shot, but she started to see herself not just as a betrayer but as a woman caught in the complexities of her own heart.

The conference ended, and Esha returned to her room, the weight of her actions still pressing down on her, yet the day with Priya had offered a small measure of healing. She knew she had to face Kunal, to face herself, but for now, she allowed herself a moment of quiet, of grief, and of the smallest hint of forgiveness towards her own human frailties. The path forward was uncertain, but she knew she couldn't continue to punish herself without at least trying to understand why she had strayed, and what it meant for her life, her marriage, and her soul.


Back in Mumbai, Esha's life felt like a déjà vu, the pain from months ago after Aniket's kiss now compounded by the weight of what had transpired in Delhi. But was this betrayal as devastating as she feared? This question circled her mind like a vulture over the desert.

The initial days were a struggle, the guilt of not fulfilling her promise to bring Aditya a gift from Delhi haunting her. The thought of her son's disappointed face was a sharp contrast to the dark desires that had led her astray. She found it nearly impossible to meet Kunal's eyes, the memory of being in another's embrace, not her husband's, a constant reminder of her infidelity.

However, Priya's reaction was like an unexpected beacon in Esha's storm. She treated the affair with a nonchalance that was both baffling and grounding to Esha. For Priya, what had occurred in the hotel room was merely a physical act, not a stain on Esha's soul. This perspective was what prevented Esha from drowning in her own guilt, offering her a perspective where her actions were not the end of her world but a moment of human frailty.

In the office, Esha's silence was palpable, but her behavior towards Aniket had changed. She was no longer pushing him away in meetings. Though they didn't speak directly, her eyes would linger on him when he was unaware, catching those moments where she remembered the intimacy they shared. She handled his portfolio with a care that bordered on personal, her nods to his suggestions a silent acknowledgment of their connection.

When Aniket had first kissed her, he was a stranger, one whose feelings she didn't reciprocate. Now, she was acutely aware of his affection for her. She saw him with new eyes - not just as a colleague but as a man who found her desirable, whose charm and looks were intertwined with the sensations of their night together. His eyes, so vivid in her memory, held a promise of pleasure, each memory of their intimacy a wave that still lingered back of her mind.

A few weeks later, at the office cafeteria, Esha and Priya sat down for lunch. "How are Kunal and Aditya?" Priya asked, her voice casual, probing.

"They've gone to Pune for the day, to visit Kunal's parents," Esha replied, her loneliness evident in her tone.

Priya whistled, her suggestion clear, "So, you're free to explore Mumbai with 'him'. Might help with the loneliness."

Esha's response was sharp, her accusation laced with frustration. "Priya, you're misguiding me, jeopardizing my marriage. I expect better from you, from a friend of over a decade."

Priya, with her own deeply held views on life, looked at Esha intently, her words coming out as she chewed, her story unfolding in pauses for emphasis. "Jeopardize? Let me... tell you... what jeopardy really means. My mother... she couldn't marry the man she loved... because society back then... wouldn't allow it."

Esha listened, her heart heavy with the weight of what was coming.

Priya continued, her voice hardening with memory, "My sister and I... we were born into a home where... my father, drunk and bitter... spent nights with prostitutes... he brought women home... showed no respect for his wife or daughters."

Esha's eyes widened, the story revealing a part of Priya she had never known.

"But no one called him out... because he was a 'man'," Priya said, her words sharp, cutting through the air between them. "My mother... she was blamed... for not giving birth to a boy, as if... women controls the chromosomes, while the truth is otherwise."

Esha felt a chill, the horror of Priya's reality sinking in, the injustices highlighted by the mere fact of gender.

"And then... because she once spoke to her old love... shared her grief," Priya paused, her voice dropping to a whisper, "she was found dead... burnt... a few days later."

The silence that followed was profound, filled with the weight of Priya's revelation. Esha was stunned, listening to the tragedy Priya had endured. The word 'jeopardy' took on a new, haunting meaning. It wasn't just about personal acts of betrayal but about the systemic, societal jeopardy women faced, the rules that society makes keeping male chauvinism in mind.

Taking a deep breath, Priya, aiming to lighten the mood yet leaving the gravity of her story hanging in the air, picked up her phone, winked at Esha, and dialed a number. "Hi, one of my friends is feeling very lonely. Her husband and son are out of town. Would you mind giving her some company today after work?"

Esha understood immediately who Priya was calling, and she tried to interject, to stop this from escalating further. But Priya was already standing, signaling the end of their lunch break. "Go enjoy life, Esha," she said with a playful tone, "Life's too short for regrets."

Esha left in contemplation, the weight of Priya's story juxtaposed with her own actions, making her question the very fabric of her life, her choices, and the societal norms she has been imposed with. It was a moment of profound introspection, where the essence of 'jeopardy' was not just about her guilt but about understanding the complexity of desire, loyalty, and the human condition, especially through the lens of what women endure silently.


Back in her cabin, Esha couldn't focus on work. The story Priya told about her mother's tragic end stirred deep emotions, making Esha reflect on her own choices. Though not a feminist by label, Esha believed in gender equality and shared responsibility. She held marriage vows sacred, yet Priya's tale made her question her path. Would following her heart with Aniket lead to judgment? Would she be blamed if Kunal learned of her infidelity, leading to their marriage's downfall?

Her eyes moved from Kunal and Aditya's photo, her anchors, to the magazine Aniket had sent as an apology. Picking it up, the scent was unmistakable, the same one that had enveloped her in Delhi, marking her body and psyche, a reminder of forbidden pleasures.

Esha felt pulled in three ways: her family, Aniket, and society's looming judgment. Each tugged at her heart, her mind a battlefield of guilt, desire, and fear.

As she prepared to leave, Aniket's voice stopped her. Dressed in a white kurti and baggy salwar, her hair loosely tied, her face tense, her heart beat heavily. She had hoped he'd ignore Priya's suggestion, but here he was.

"Come with me," he said, his voice a blend of command and invitation, leading her to his car. Esha followed, her movements automatic.

"Where are we going?" she whispered over the car's engine.

"To my apartment. I make the world's best coffee," Aniket replied, his tone teasing yet sincere.

In his living room, the air was charged with anticipation. Esha sat on the sofa, her kurti pushed up, her bra undone, one breast exposed to Aniket's eager mouth, his tongue tracing patterns that made her shiver. Kneeling between her legs, his fingers explored her, each touch revealing her desire.

Esha was adrift in sensation, eyes closed, whispering his name, her body hungry for more. The room filled with their breaths, the wet sounds of their connection, her moans a song of surrender.

Aniket moved her to the carpet, entering her with deliberate thrusts, each one eliciting a gasp, her body eagerly meeting his, despite her inner turmoil. He directed her gaze to the mirror, showing them entwined.

"Look," he whispered, voice thick with lust, "Only a man my age can truly appreciate a woman your age," teasing her earlier remark. Esha blushed, the mirror showing not just their act but their undeniable connection.

In the reflection, she saw herself wrapped around him, legs entwined, toes curling with each deep thrust. This image contrasted sharply with her thoughts of duty, amplifying the moment's passion. Her moans grew louder, mingling with the rhythmic sounds of their bodies, filling the room with their symphony of desire.

Aniket's hands worshipped her body, his touch a stark contrast to their primal act. Esha's nails dug into his back, pulling him closer, her voice a mix of pleasure and pleas. "Aniket," she breathed, each word a confession of her longing, her surrender.

Their pace intensified, the room echoing with their lovemaking, the gasps, moans, and whispered affirmations of how good, how right this felt. The climax was intense, Esha's cries blending with Aniket's groans, their bodies shuddering together, the mirror reflecting their shared ecstasy.

After, lying on the carpet, their breathing calmed. Esha's mind cleared, the reality of her actions sinking in. The mirror now just observed, reflecting her taking yet another step beyond the line she'd already crossed. Aniket, sensing her change, held her gently, whispering, "Esha, this doesn't have to be the end," his voice full of hope.

But for Esha, the weight of her choices was heavy. The thrill of Aniket was overshadowed by guilt. The sounds of their passion echoed, a juxtaposition of liberation and fear, as she faced her desires, society's judgment, and the consequences.

As time passed, Esha and Aniket's relationship deepened, moving from a professional facade laced with forbidden attraction to something profound and personal. They shared laughter, understanding, and conversations that felt like coming home.

In Aniket, Esha discovered not just a lover but a confidant who saw past her roles as wife and mother. This hidden relationship offered her a taste of freedom, a chance to live for herself in moments stolen from the world.

With Aniket, Esha felt truly acknowledged, a feeling she hadn't known she craved. Their bond was a secret garden where she could grow freely, untethered by societal expectations. Each encounter added layers to their connection, rich with shared secrets and empathetic glances.

What once required persuasion for Esha to join Aniket in private now flowed naturally. The initial hesitations and planning had faded, their meetings becoming a familiar dance, each touch a note in their intimate symphony.

Their professional interactions at the bank doubled as a cover for their clandestine meetings. Now, there was no need for excuses; work provided the perfect alibi. Business lunches and client reviews were their moments to indulge in each other.

Esha had become adept at arranging these secret escapes, her calendar a tapestry of deceit where each meeting with Aniket was a thread of passion. Discussions about markets or strategies were charged with unspoken desires, electrifying their professional encounters.

In her solitude, Esha pondered the future of this affair, hoping Aniket might eventually move on. Once, teasing him over coffee, she suggested, "You know, Aniket, time waits for no one. Maybe it's time to think about settling down?"

Aniket's eyes softened, a hint of sorrow visible. He took her hand, his touch warm, "Esha, I've considered it. After losing my first love in an accident, no one has filled that void."

He paused, looking deep into her eyes, "When I first heard your voice, it was like hearing her again. That same depth, the same seductive tone." His voice carried nostalgia, "Your beauty, the care you took with my portfolio... it all felt familiar."

"Your beauty," he continued, brushing a strand of hair from her face, "it reminded me of the light she brought into my life. The way you handle my portfolio," he admired, "it's like a melody I thought was lost. You've rekindled parts of me I thought were gone."

Their lunches became more than escapes; they were moments of true connection. Aniket would say, "Your laughter is like sunlight breaking through clouds. I didn't realize how much I needed that light."

Esha, feeling the excitement of their secret, would respond, "With you, I can just be me."

In these confessions, their bond transcended the physical, touching on a romantic depth. Esha cherished these moments, these words that painted their affair with love and meaning.

Their meetings were filled with these intimate exchanges. "You make me feel truly alive," Aniket would say, his eyes locked with hers, a promise of more.

Esha, in turn, would admit, "With you, I feel whole, not just pieces of a life."

These sentiments, shared in quiet corners or whispers in his apartment, wove their affair into something beautiful, even if fleeting.

Lying beside Kunal, watching his peaceful sleeping face, a shiver ran down Esha's spine. That evening, she had experienced an incredible intimacy with Aniket in his apartment, moments that now felt like both a thrill and a betrayal.

She turned her gaze back to her husband. What was it that she missed in her marital life that led her to share her body and soul with another man, even more than she did with Kunal now? 

Was Kunal less good-looking? Certainly not. Both coming from Sindhi families who had settled in different parts of Maharashtra during the partition, they inherited good looks from generations past. Yes, after seven years of marriage, Kunal had put on some weight and become a bit of a couch potato, but wasn't that a common fate for many married men and women? After years of marriage, with life revolving around children and responsibilities, most couples let go of the focus on appearance and physique.

In contrast, Aniket, just a few inches taller than Kunal, carried the robust Punjabi genes but took meticulous care of his looks and body. Esha knew about the small gym in his apartment. Sometimes, when he was in the mood, he'd invite her to join him for a session with dumbbells. Esha, while not particularly fond of exercise herself, was fortunate not to have the tendency to gain weight easily, unlike many from her community.

However, holding Aniket in her arms, feeling his biceps and broad chest sculpted by regular training, was undeniably thrilling. But was physical attraction the sole reason for her actions? She didn't think so.



Was Aniket a better lover then? Esha was not sure. Both men took care of her comfort, each in their own way.

Kunal's devotion was the kind that Esha had always cherished, a comfort in the chaos of life. He was the embodiment of a caring husband, shouldering the financial burdens so she could feel secure, always attentive to her needs, even in the intimacy of their bedroom. His tenderness during their first night together had set a tone of respect and love, his concern for her comfort never waning. Even now, his eyes would soften with worry if she showed the slightest sign of discomfort during their mating. But the routine of life, the weight of responsibilities, had slowly altered their physical closeness. Their love was no less, but the passion seemed to have settled into a quieter, less frequent rhythm.

Esha had accepted this shift as a natural progression of marriage, especially after their son entered their lives. The focus had shifted so dramatically towards nurturing their family, providing for their future, that the wild, passionate explorations of their early days seemed like a distant memory. When Kunal sought intimacy, there were times Esha's mind was elsewhere, caught in the web of daily stresses or the exhaustion from corporate battles. And when she craved closeness, Kunal might be too tired, his mind on work deadlines or the next big project. Their bodies, once so in sync, now danced to the beat of life's demands, creating moments of missed connections. Esha before meeting Aniket, thought this is a norm and story of every household.


But was what Esha thought as a norm truly the case? Aniket was also caring, ensuring Esha's comfort. Yet, he had a way of pushing her limits.

If Esha shrieked at his entry, Aniket would take his time, arousing her until she was ready for his intensity. His actions were like a worship of her body.

He'd pinch her nipples, lick and suck on them, then move to her vagina, lapping at her clit. His deep thrusts allowed her to moan freely, exploring new positions together. 


She remembered one particularly challenging pose where Aniket wanted to make love to her while holding her up in the air. Her heart had leaped into her throat at the thought of falling, the fear mingling with excitement. "Aniket, no, I'll fall, I'm not that athletic!" she protested, her voice a mix of fear and anticipation.

Aniket's eyes sparkled with mischief and desire. "Trust me, Esha. I've got you," he whispered, his voice low and reassuring. His hands found her waist, lifting her effortlessly. She wrapped her legs around him, feeling exposed yet thrilled. "See, you're safe with me," he murmured, his breath hot against her neck.

He guided her down onto him, the sensation of being suspended, supported only by his strength, sending waves of pleasure through her. "Oh, Aniket," she gasped, her voice turning into a moan as he began to move, each thrust a reflecting his control and her surrender. With every careful, deep movement, fear transformed into thrill, her body adjusting to the rhythm, her trust in him making the pose both daring and delightful.

With Aniket, having two sessions in a day was not just possible but a reality, something Esha hadn't even considered practical had Aniket wouldn't have entered her life. 

One day, after persistent requests from Aniket, Priya concocted a plan . She picked up her phone and dialed Kunal, "Hey Kunal, I was thinking, how about Esha comes over tonight? We could have some girl talk."

Kunal, unsuspecting, replied, "Sure, Priya. She might enjoy that. Let me know if you need anything."

But instead, Esha found herself at Aniket's apartment, the night stretching into a marathon of passion. 

They had four sessions until morning, each one blurring into the next, Esha losing count of her orgasms in the haze of pleasure. 

Aniket had taken her in almost every part of his apartment, making her explore new sides of her sexuality, her desires, her own body in ways she had never imagined. This wasn't just about the physical act but about discovering the breadth of her own pleasure, the depths of her own sensuality.


Esha was living a double life, juggling her domestic routine with an electrifying secret one.

Aniket's apartment was her refuge, a place for stolen moments. His once ample wardrobe was now half hers, signifying her playful takeover, filled with tokens of their affair. This space had become her private refuge, adorned with Aniket's gifts—sarees that clung to her like a lover's touch, lingerie so sheer it whispered promises, and jewelry that sparkled with their shared secrets. Each item was a memento of their covert romance.

She'd often stand before the bedroom mirror, slipping into a new saree or watching how a necklace danced against her skin. The room was scented with her perfume, intermingling with the remnants of their passion, making it feel more hers than his. Every piece told a story, every trinket a memory of their encounters, turning this place into a treasure chest of intimacy.

Esha recalled her initial refusal of Aniket's lavish gifts, especially the first pendant he offered when they lay bare on his bed, the air still thick with the scent of love. Aniket's fingers traced her neck as he placed it on her, murmuring, "This beauty's for my beautiful girl." The luxury overwhelmed her, her self-respect cautious against seeming materialistic.

Aniket, seeing her hesitation, smiled, "You deserve to be adorned like this. It's even more beautiful on you." But when she resisted, he enlisted Priya's help.

Priya challenged Esha, "He spent days on this. It's a special order, a tribute to your allure. Don't let pride rob you of this." Convinced by the sentiment, Esha accepted, feeling the pendant's coolness against her skin, a physical manifestation of Aniket's devotion. This set the precedent for keeping gifts at his place for their private escapades, enhancing the allure of each encounter.

Then came the payal. Esha, curious, asked about his choice. Aniket smirked, "I love the sound it makes when your legs are wrapped around me."

"Aniket, your mind!" Esha laughed, her cheeks flushing as she admired it, then moved closer to him on the bed. "And what does that sound do to you?"

"It drives me wild," Aniket confessed, his voice dropping, "Makes me want to keep you here, making love to you into oblivion."

With a playful, seductive tone, Esha teased, "So, this is for our... intimate sessions?"

"Exactly," he affirmed, mischief in his eyes, "I need to hear that sweet jingle with every move you make."

Esha laughed, snuggling into him, slipping the payal onto her ankle, "Then let's see if it can keep up with us."

His response was a growl full of desire, "Oh, it will, and so will I."


Every relationship has its challenges, and Esha and Aniket were no exception. There were numerous occasions when Aniket longed for Esha by his side, only to be met with her refusals. Esha could only carve out time on weekdays, using work as an excuse to meet him. Weekends were a firm "no" since she dedicated them entirely to her son and husband. On a few rare weekends, she managed to sneak away by deceiving Kunal and Aditya, but frequent excuses risked inviting suspicion. Aniket's desire to spend more time with Esha grew with each passing day; he would emotionally blackmail her, coax her, but often, relenting was out of the question for Esha. Over their year-long affair, Esha had only spent one entire night at his apartment after Aniket's persistent pleading. That night, though Priya had helped, the fear of getting caught hung over Esha, leading her to declare it would be the last time, despite the intense pleasure they shared. 

Aniket, despite having a woman in his life, often found himself alone when he wished Esha was beside him. The situation escalated when Esha faced several challenges: Aditya fell ill, then her father-in-law suffered a heart attack, necessitating her presence in Pune, working from home. Esha managed to connect with Aniket via Zoom under the guise of client meetings or through phone calls when she was alone. However, the lack of physical interaction was driving both to desperation, especially
Aniket, who had become accustomed to their physical intimacy and found himself unable to desire anyone else.

As soon as Esha entered Aniket's apartment, he was there, bracing her from behind as the door closed. "I've missed you so much," he murmured, his voice a blend of complaint and longing, "It's been a month since you were here."

Esha, feeling his warmth against her back, teased, "Awww, having an affair with a married woman is challenging, you know. I have responsibilities, Aniket. Maybe you should find a girl and get married." 

Aniket pulled her closer, his breath hot against her ear, "I can't think about another woman when I have you." 

Turning her head, Esha caressed his cheek, still held in his embrace. "My baby," she said, referring to him playfully, "is getting possessive."

Without another word, Aniket led her to the bedroom, his urgency palpable. Once there, with her eyes closed, the sensation of Aniket's hard length sliding in and out of her, each thrust filling her with a mix of pleasure and longing, Esha's mind wandered to how she would navigate this challenging situation. The possessiveness in Aniket's eyes was clear, a silent demand for more than she could publicly give. The deep, rhythmic penetration was both a reminder of their undeniable chemistry and the complexity of her life, her heart torn between the thrill of their affair and the love for her family.


The relationship between Esha and Aniket was growing more complicated with time. She felt she couldn't live without him, yet the prospect of no future for their relationship gnawed at her.

While doing the dishes or cooking for her family, Esha would often lose herself in thought, the repetitive motions of her chores not enough to keep her mind from wandering to Aniket.

She found herself getting irritated over small things, snapping at Kunal or Aditya over trivial matters, only to later regret her behavior, understanding she shouldn't let her inner turmoil affect her family.

After lunch, Esha and Priya strolled around the office building, Esha's face serious, while Priya observed her with an empathetic gaze.

"You put me in this situation, Priya," Esha accused, her voice a mix of blame and confusion.

Priya sighed, "I thought it would be just physical, Esha. I didn't expect it to go this far."

Esha shook her head, "This was exactly what I feared when you were pushing me towards Aniket."

"I still believe you have every right to explore your sexuality," Priya countered, her tone firm yet understanding.

"But you need to talk to Aniket," Priya continued. "I think he's falling for you."

Esha's eyes widened, "Falling for me? No, no... neither of us should fall in love."

Priya looked at her intently, "But what if he already loves you?"

"Society doesn't recognize this kind of love, Priya. It's doomed from the start," Esha said, her voice heavy with sorrow.

"Then tell him, Esha. Tell him you can't go beyond this," Priya suggested, her voice gentle but insistent.

Esha's eyes became wet with unshed tears, "I wish I could tell him that."

Priya, with a knowing look, taunted softly, "You love him too, don't you?"

Esha avoided her gaze, "I... I don't know what I feel."

Priya's eyes softened, "I can see it in your eyes, Esha."

Esha looked away, her silence speaking volumes.

"Let me see what I can do," Priya offered, her tone one of resolve, ready to navigate the complex emotions of her friend.


After an intense discussion with Esha, Priya felt a profound empathy for her friend's predicament. 

She spent the night reflecting on how she could assist Esha through this tangled situation. Priya remembered how she had initially felt a twinge of jealousy when Esha was assigned to Aniket, the bank's most charming client. His arrival had sparked something in her - a crush that quickly turned into professional respect as she watched Esha and Aniket's dynamic evolve.

Their professional bond had always been intriguing, but it was the incident of the kiss that shifted everything into a more personal realm. 

Aniket, feeling guilty about a harsh reaction to a professional setback, had sought Priya's advice on how to apologize to Esha. He came to her, asking for insights into Esha's interests, claiming it was merely an attempt to make amends. Priya, knowing Esha's family well, had cautioned him about the sanctity of Esha's marriage.

Yet, when Esha confided in Priya about the kiss, it altered her perspective. The way their eyes met, there was an undeniable attraction, a chemistry that Priya believed was only held back by Esha's commitment to her vows. 

This realization fueled Priya's feminist beliefs, pushing her to advocate for Esha's right to explore her emotions, even if it meant navigating beyond the confines of marriage. She had hoped, like many flings, this would be brief, but the depth of their connection had now complicated matters beyond her initial expectations.


Priya had become a confidante not just to Esha but to Aniket as well. He would call her, sometimes in the loneliness of the night, drunk with desire and longing for Esha, sharing his feelings with an intensity that was both touching and troubling. Aniket had once asked Priya to intervene, to somehow make Esha dedicate more of herself to him, but Priya knew she couldn't manipulate Esha's choices.

Determined to help Esha find clarity, Priya decided she needed a deeper understanding of Esha's emotions before she could offer any advice. She proposed a casual meeting at a nearby mall over the weekend, under the pretense of shopping, hoping to delve into Esha's turmoil in a relaxed setting.

The following day, she reached out to Aniket, her voice both serious and supportive over the phone.

"Aniket, if you want my help to see what the future holds for your relationship with Esha, you'll need to play along," Priya said.

They talked through a few more points, the specifics of their plan taking shape.

As their conversation neared its end, Priya gave him a direction, "Come to the mall at 6 PM. Esha will be there too."


It was easy for Esha to excuse herself from her family for a few hours on Saturday, claiming she was going window shopping with Priya. She arrived on time, watching Priya flit from one shop to another, her enthusiasm infectious yet a stark contrast to Esha's inner turmoil. After their shopping adventure, they settled in a secluded corner of the mall's top-floor food court.

Priya's voice was earnest as she leaned closer, "Esha, if you want my help, you need to be completely honest with me."

Esha, not knowing where this was going, agreed, "Okay."

"How often do you and Kunal have sex?" Priya's question was direct, catching Esha off guard.

Esha's defense was immediate, "This isn't why we're here, Priya."

"Trust me, it's relevant. Be honest," Priya insisted.

Esha knew she was lying when she said, "Like any other couple," the image of her passionate moments with Aniket flashing in her mind.

Priya wasn't fooled, "Come on, Esha, the truth."

Esha sighed, "2-3 times a month."

"And before Aniket?" Priya prodded.

Esha dodged directly answering, "After seven years, every couple's libido naturally wanes."

Priya nodded, "I'll take that as 2-3 times a month then." She tried to lighten the mood with a chuckle, "Mrs. Wankhede told me her husband still does it twice a week, even after 18 years."

Priya's tone turned more serious, "That's not a lot, though."

Esha confessed, "With Aditya and both of us working, it's not the priority. But we're content."

"Did you ever try to spice things up?" Priya asked, her curiosity piqued.

Esha was hesitant, "We watched some porn early on, different themes to explore. But life got in the way."

Priya's next question was bold, "Any role-playing or involving someone else?"

Esha blushed, defending the sanctity of her marriage, "No, nothing like that."

Priya nudged her playfully, and Esha recalled, "Once, at my college reunion, I introduced Kunal to a guy who had a crush on me. That night, Kunal mentioned his name, but it was just playful. He felt guilty afterwards, never did it again."

"Was that night's sex different?" Priya teased, her eyes twinkling.

Esha, not catching the full implication, gave a playful nod.

The conversation took a sharp turn when Priya asked about Aniket, "How does the sex compare with Aniket?"

Esha's cheeks turned red, "I don't compare them."

"Is Aniket demanding?" Priya clarified.

Esha whispered, "Very much so."

"Does it make you uncomfortable, or does he push too far?" Priya asked, her voice laced with concern.

Esha's silence was telling, and Priya interpreted it, "I'll take that as a 'No' then."

Priya then dropped the bombshell, "Aniket is coming at 6 today." Esha's face flushed with a mix of excitement and panic; she hadn't been prepared for this.

Esha's expression was one of confusion, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"He misses seeing you on weekends. I thought it'd be nice for him to join us," Priya explained with a grin. Esha's heart raced with the thrill and fear of being so close to home with Aniket. When she saw him waving at them, her excitement was undeniable.

After some casual conversation, Priya spoke to both, "I need to make something clear to Aniket. Esha, you're married; there's no future for you two."

Esha's heart plummeted, a fake nod escaping her, masking her true feelings. The thought of Aniket moving on was like a knife twisting in her gut, a jealousy she wasn't ready to acknowledge.

Turning to Aniket, Priya said, "I saw you with a girl this weekend. She's quite beautiful."

Esha felt a sharp sting of jealousy, her stomach knotting. Aniket's response was simple, "She's just a friend." But Esha's glance at him was a storm of emotions, her eyes searching for any sign that he might be lying or hiding something.

Priya teased, "I wouldn't mind if she was your girlfriend."

A wave of possessiveness washed over Esha, her heart racing. Aniket quickly clarified, "It's not like that."

But Priya persisted, "She seems perfect for you. You should chase her."

The words felt like a punch to Esha's chest. Anger, hurt, and an undeniable jealousy flared within her. She stood abruptly, her face a mask of rage she tried to conceal. She glanced at her watch, "I have to go, I've got so much work." Without waiting for a response, she left, her exit marked by an undercurrent of emotional turmoil. Priya watched with a slight, knowing smile, while Aniket's face tensed with concern.


Sunday dawned, and Esha was adrift in a sea of conflicting emotions, Aniket's voice from the day before still reverberating with explanations she didn't want to hear. If Priya hadn't been there, her rage might have spilled over into something more visceral. Why this storm of jealousy when she had always whispered in their secluded moments that their affair had no future? Yet, the mere thought of Aniket with another woman ignited a possessive fire within her.

The night had been sleepless, haunted by the scent of Aniket's skin, his gaze that devoured her, the husky timbre of his voice in the height of their passion, the expert touch of his hands, and the exquisite afterglow they'd shared in front of his bedroom mirror. No amount of focus on Aditya's beloved breakfast or the tranquil tea with Kunal on the balcony could shake Aniket from her thoughts.

The afternoon brought a call from Priya, slicing through the silence. "Why the hell did you react like that, Esha?"

With Kunal and Aditya out at the park, Esha was free to vent. "You and Aniket, conspiring to tell me how pretty that girl is?"

Priya's laughter was edged with mockery. "What do you want, Esha? That a man should always be at your beck and call? And when he needs someone beside him, he should wait for a slot in your schedule, leaving him all alone and horny?" 

Then came the bombshell, "You should give divorce to Kunal." The words hit Esha like a bullet. "I'd rather die than think about divorcing him," she shot back, her voice laced with pain and defiance.

"You're going to drive me insane, Esha," Priya sighed, exasperated by the emotional chaos.

"But listen, it was just a prank, a way to brace you for real surprises down the line," Priya confessed.

"Shit," was Esha's only reply, a cocktail of relief and embarrassment swirling within her.

The following day, Esha stood at Aniket's door, her knock a demand. "You rascal, you're meeting another woman behind my back?" Her playful punch carried the weight of her jealousy.

"How dare you not ask for my permission before meeting that bit...?" she struck again, her words sharp avoiding the complete word.

Aniket, amused, dodged her blows, only to be pushed down onto the couch. Esha straddled him, her voice dripping with a possessive coo, "You are mine, ohhh," her fingers tightening around his jaw.

With a feverish urgency, Esha ripped Aniket's shirt, buttons scattering like fallen stars. Clothes were discarded in a frenzy, skin on skin, her lips finding his ear, licking and nibbling, her nails raking across his chest, drawing out moans of pleasure.

She guided him inside her, riding him with a rhythm born of jealousy and need, her eyes locked onto his, a silent declaration of ownership. Her pussy clenched around him, milking every sensation as they moved together.

As climax approached, the words burst from her, "I love you, I love you," a chant of passion and possession until they both surrendered to ecstasy, their juices mingling.

After their breathing normalized, Aniket looked at her with a mixture of awe and affection, "Fuck, that was awesome," he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"Only for you, baby," Esha purred, curling into him, her ear against his chest, listening to the heartbeat that had become her secret symphony.


Esha and Aniket lay entangled on the couch, their bodies pressed close, basking in the afterglow. Esha's skin was a soft, tender canvas, an aphrodisiac that sent Aniket's blood racing with heat, his senses enraptured by the curves of her body molding against his.

"I crave another round, deep and slow," Esha purred, her fingers playfully twirling in Aniket's chest hair.

"Two is the norm for me," Aniket grinned, his tone suggestive, indicating he needed at least two sessions to feel truly sated.

"I love that about you," Esha cooed, her voice dripping with appreciation for his sexual stamina.

With that, Aniket scooped her up, their naked bodies pressed together as he carried her to the bedroom for another session of "Deep and Slow". 

As Aniket began to move within her, each thrust met with Esha's gasps, she felt every inch of him, every motion designed to drive her wild.

"So you love me, what about Kunal then?" Aniket's mention of Kunal caused a ripple of unease in Esha. Her body, which had been welcoming, now tensed, resisting his movements.

To shift the conversation, Esha wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer, her giggle playful yet nervous, "I'll keep both my men."

Aniket resumed his rhythm, his thrusts now more insistent. "Why not include him in our love-making?" he suggested, pushing deeper.

"Please, let's just focus on us, you and me," Esha pleaded, not wanting Kunal to infiltrate their intimate moment.

"Or maybe he can just watch us," Aniket teased, his movements now forceful, challenging her boundaries.

"No, don't do this!" Esha protested, but her body belied her words, meeting his thrusts with equal fervor, the bed creaking loudly beneath them.

"Or he could wipe your sweat while I fuck you," Aniket continued, his pace quickening, his words pushing her towards the edge.

"Aniket, please don't do it, I beg you," Esha responded, her voice a mix of desire and desperation, her body now syncing with his aggressive pace.

Their love-making intensified, the room shaking with the force of their passion. As Aniket neared his climax, he poured into her, his love liquid spreading warmth, marking their union amidst the chaos of their desires and fears.

[clearlover]

Part G

Knowing the complexities of Esha's situation with Aniket and the strain it was putting on her marriage with Kunal, Priya decided to take matters into her own hands. She called Esha one evening, her voice bright and casual, "Hey Esha, I was thinking, how about I come over for dinner this weekend? I've missed hanging out with you, Kunal, and Aditya." 

Her intention was clear, though she didn't voice it - to observe, to understand, and perhaps to guide Esha and Kunal towards a resolution or at least a better understanding of each other's needs. Priya believed in helping in her own way, even if it meant stirring the pot to see what truths would surface.
Esha had prepared dinner, filling the room with the comforting smell of home-cooked food as Kunal and Priya sat down at the table. Aditya, playing with his toys in the next room, was blissfully unaware of the adult conversation.

"So, I've got a new boyfriend," Priya announced with a grin.

Kunal laughed, "You find a new one every other month! When are you settling down?"

Priya gave him a playful look, "Why settle? Marriage can feel like a cage, Kunal. Women are expected to give up their freedom, you know?"

Esha interjected, a bit defensively, "Not all marriages are like that. What Kunal and I have is special."

Priya, knowing more than she let on, smiled cryptically, "I get that, but marriage often means you have to follow someone else's rules, not your own dreams. And don't even get me started on how the wife's desires are overlooked for the sake of tradition. It's like society pushes marriage as if it's the only way to show love, but it's not."

Kunal nodded, thinking about it, while Esha felt her cheeks warm, knowing Priya was subtly referencing her situation with Aniket.

Priya continued, leaning in, "It's supposed to be about partnership, but ends up being about power sometimes. And the worst part? Marriage can make you feel you've lost your identity, just becoming 'someone's wife'. Why should love mean sacrificing your personal growth or desires?"

Esha bit her lip, the words hitting closer to home than she'd like to admit. Kunal seemed intrigued, "I never thought of it that way," he admitted.

"Exactly," Priya said, "it puts unnecessary pressure on women to conform, to be perfect wives and mothers. The idea of owning another person, even if it's just in name, is outdated. And it's not always about love; it can be about control, security, or just meeting societal expectations."

Esha, now feeling the conversation was a bit too pointed, tried to steer it elsewhere, "Well, I'm glad our love isn't about any of that."

Priya gave her a knowing look, "I know, Esha speaks very highly of you. She loves and respects you deeply. But don't you think marriage sometimes asks women to mute their desires for stability?"

Kunal paused, his thoughts swirling. Priya's words felt like they were aimed at both of them, hinting at secrets Esha had shared with her. As they finished eating, Priya got ready to leave. "Hey, Kunal, I've got a meeting near your office next week. Want to grab lunch?"

"Sure, that sounds good," Kunal agreed, still digesting the conversation.

Priya smiled, "I'll text you the details." She waved goodbye, leaving Kunal with much to ponder as Esha began cleaning up, hoping he hadn't caught on to the undercurrents of their discussion.


Kunal met Priya for lunch at a small café near the tech park where he worked. The place was bustling with the midday crowd, but they found a quiet spot to talk. After they ordered, Priya leaned back, looking around the café with a thoughtful expression.

"So, how's work been treating you?" Priya asked, initiating the conversation.

Kunal shrugged, "Same old, same old. Projects, deadlines, you know the drill. How about you?"

Priya smiled, "Busy as ever. But I've been thinking a lot about relationships lately. Not just mine, but how people in general navigate them."

Kunal raised an eyebrow, curious. "Oh? What brought this on?"

Priya took a sip of her drink, "I was at this wedding last weekend. It was beautiful, but it got me thinking about the institution of marriage. How it starts with all this passion and promise, but sometimes, the day-to-day life can dull that shine."

Kunal nodded, "I can see that. It's easy to get caught up in the routine."

"Exactly, and it's not just about the big gestures," Priya began, warming to her topic. "There's the thrill of being truly desired. I've seen how some couples lose that spark where one partner feels like they're not seen in that way anymore."

Kunal leaned in, intrigued, "Like what?"

"Well, there's the adventure. Remember when relationships were all about exploring each other? It's like some forget the joy in the unexpected after settling into routine."

"True," Kunal agreed, "life gets so predictable."

Priya continued, "The way a partner pays attention to your body. It's not just about sex, but really noticing, appreciating, and understanding what makes someone feel special."

Kunal thought for a moment, "We do tend to overlook that after a while."

"And having those deep, passionate conversations," Priya added, "When was the last time you've heard of couples really engaging with each other's thoughts, dreams, fears?"

"It's rare, isn't it?" Kunal mused.

Priya nodded, "There's something about playful exploration in intimacy. You know, trying new things, keeping it exciting, not just sticking to what's known."

"Makes sense," Kunal said, "I guess we can get stuck in our ways."

Priya went on, "Time, Kunal. Real, quality time. It's easy to forget how important it is to just focus on each other, without distractions, making each other feel like a priority."

Kunal sighed, "That's tough with everything else going on."

"Compliments, those genuine ones that make you feel beautiful or handsome just for being you. It's amazing how those can fade in long-term relationships."

Kunal chuckled, a bit self-consciously, "We should do that more often, huh?"

"Intimacy that goes beyond the physical act. The small touches, the looks, the moments that build up to passion. It's about keeping that connection alive."

"Yes, those little moments are what keep things alive," Kunal agreed.

"And the freedom to just be yourself, without the roles of spouse or parent dictating every moment. It's about being loved for your essence, not just your function."

Kunal nodded, "That's important. We all need that space to be ourselves."

"Lastly," Priya said, "validation. Sometimes, people need to feel their desires are not just accepted but celebrated. It can be liberating when someone encourages you to explore your own needs."

Kunal was thoughtful, "It's not about pointing fingers, but it's a good reminder to keep these things alive."

"Exactly," Priya agreed, "and it's not to say that every marriage lacks these elements, but it's a reminder to keep them alive. It's about keeping that flame burning, not letting it dim under the weight of routine."

Their conversation continued, touching on other topics, but Kunal's mind lingered on the notion of overlooked needs, not just in his marriage but in relationships in general, prompting him to reflect on how he might have been part of this common story without realizing it.


Kunal and Priya found themselves at another lunch meeting, this time at a quieter bistro close to Kunal's office. The mood was relaxed, but the conversation was about to take a turn into uncharted territories.

Priya, while browsing her phone, casually mentioned, "You know, I stumbled upon some interesting articles lately about relationships. They talk about modern solutions to what we were discussing last time."

Kunal, still digesting the previous conversation, raised an eyebrow, "Oh? What kind of solutions?"

Priya pulled out her phone, showing him the screen. "There's this article I read, it talks about how some couples find fulfillment in exploring beyond traditional boundaries. Things like open marriages, cuckoldry, you name it."

Kunal's curiosity was piqued, but there was a hint of discomfort in his eyes. "Open marriages? That's... not something you hear every day."

Priya nodded, "Exactly. It's about redefining what commitment means. For some, it's not about exclusivity but about expanding love, sharing experiences, or even finding new ways to connect with their partner through others."

She continued, her tone thoughtful, "It's funny how men can get so caught up in control rather than exploring ways to keep the spark alive. There's this notion that to love someone means to possess them, but what if it's about setting them free to explore, and in that exploration, you find a deeper connection?"

Kunal sipped his coffee, processing the information. "I can see how that might work for some people, but it feels like such a departure from what we're taught."

Priya leaned back, "That's the point. Society has this narrow view of what love should look like. But love, real love, it's about growth, understanding, and sometimes, that means breaking out of the box. Some find it liberating; others find it challenging their very sense of self."

Kunal was silent for a moment, his mind racing with the implications. "It's just... I've never thought of marriage in those terms."

Priya gave a knowing smile, "It's not for everyone, but it's interesting to see how some couples manage to keep things fresh, exciting. They argue that male chauvinism can blind us to these possibilities because it's all about maintaining control, not about mutual joy or exploration."

Kunal nodded, a mix of curiosity and discomfort evident in his expression. "It's definitely a lot to think about. The idea of sharing your partner, it's not something I've ever considered."

"But think about it, Kunal," Priya suggested, "if love is about wanting the best for someone, why should that be limited to just one way of being together? It's about finding what works for both of you, not just clinging to what's traditional."

The conversation shifted to other topics, but the seeds of these new ideas had been planted in Kunal's mind. He was left pondering the complexities of love, the nature of control in relationships, and whether these modern solutions could truly offer a path to happiness or if they were just a sign of the times, challenging the very fabric of what he thought marriage should be.


Kunal found himself in one of the quieter corners of a park not too far from where he lived with Esha and Aditya. The park was a place where he could let his thoughts wander without the confines of his home or the demands of his work. Today, however, the park felt different, almost like it was holding its breath, waiting for the storm within him to break. He had chosen this spot for its privacy, away from the prying eyes and ears that might have been at home or in a public café. His heart was heavy, a mix of dread and the need for clarity leading him to call Priya.

The call had been rushed, his voice betraying an urgency that wasn't usual for him. "Priya, we need to talk. It's important," he had said, his words clipped, his tone hinting at the turmoil inside. Priya, sensing the gravity, agreed to meet him there after work. 

As he waited, Kunal's mind replayed the last few weeks, each memory tinged with new suspicion. Esha seemed different lately, her laughter a bit too bright, her smiles a tad too secretive. He had noticed her phone screen lighting up more often with messages, her responses to them always swift and secretive. She'd been coming home later from work, citing meetings or projects that seemed to demand more of her time than usual. Kunal had tried to brush these signs off as his own insecurity, chalking it up to the stress of his job or the natural ebb and flow of a marriage that had seen its seventh year.

But the unease had grown, like a seed sprouting in the dark corners of his mind. The final straw came unexpectedly, when he was searching through Esha's handbag for her house keys to let himself in after they'd all gone to bed. Amidst the usual clutter, he found a movie ticket from a cinema he didn't recognize, a place Esha had never mentioned visiting, particularly since she rarely went to movies without the family. The name on the ticket was not hers, but Aniket's, a name that had been floating around in his conversations with Priya, now suddenly anchoring his suspicions.

Kunal's breath caught in his throat. He felt a pang of betrayal, a sharp, unexpected pain in his chest. The ticket was from last weekend, a time when Esha had claimed to be catching up on work. His mind raced, piecing together the fragments of behavior he had dismissed or ignored, now all falling into a pattern he couldn't unsee.

Priya arrived, her presence a stark contrast to the turmoil Kunal felt. She sat down beside him, her expression one of concern mixed with an understanding of the storm she was about to unleash. "Kunal, tell me what's going on," she prompted gently.

Kunal didn't look at her; his eyes were fixed on a distant tree, as if staring hard enough would give him the answers he sought. "Priya, I found something today... a movie ticket. From a place Esha never mentioned. It was with Aniket."

Priya's face fell slightly, but she kept her tone steady, "Kunal, I've seen Esha with Aniket. It's not just professional."

The words hit Kunal like a tidal wave, confirming his worst fears. His face drained of color, his body stiffening as if preparing for a physical blow. "What do you mean 'not just professional'? Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

Priya took a deep breath, her words measured, "I've seen them together, Kunal, in ways that suggest there's more. I didn't want to tell you until I was sure you could handle it."

Kunal stood up abruptly, the bench creaking under his sudden movement. He began to pace, his hands running through his hair, a habit when he was deeply troubled. "Handle it? How am I supposed to handle this? My wife, with another man?" His voice was a mix of anger, betrayal, and confusion, each emotion fighting for dominance.

Priya stood as well, approaching him with caution, "Kunal, Esha loves you. She loves your family. But she's been seeking something... perhaps something she feels is missing."

Kunal stopped, his back to Priya, his voice breaking under the weight of his emotions, "Missing? What could be missing? I thought we were happy."

"You are happy, but happiness isn't one-dimensional," Priya explained, trying to find the right words to soothe the storm. "Esha would never want to end what you have. It's about understanding why she's looking elsewhere, not about her wanting to leave you."

Kunal turned around, his eyes questioning, pained, "So, what? You're telling me she's... cheating? And I should just accept it?"

Priya shook her head, her voice gentle but firm, "I'm not saying that. But divorce isn't the answer here. Esha loves you; she respects you. It's about exploring why this happened, what both of you might not be getting from each other."

Kunal sat down again, his head in his hands, the full weight of the revelation crushing him. "I feel like I've failed her. Failed us," he murmured, his voice muffled.

"You haven't failed," Priya said, sitting beside him, her voice soft, comforting. "It's just that sometimes, people need different things at different times in their lives. It's not about blame; it's about understanding and maybe finding a new way forward."

Kunal looked up, his eyes red, a silent tear escaping. "I don't even know where to begin with this."

Priya placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, "Start by talking to her. Not with anger, but with an open heart. Ask, listen, understand. Maybe there's a way to heal this, to grow from it."

Kunal nodded slowly, the world around him feeling surreal, like he was watching his life through someone else's eyes. He was torn between the love he felt for Esha, the life they had built together, and the betrayal that now stained those memories. The park's silence seemed to echo his inner turmoil, the trees whispering secrets he wasn't ready to hear. He was grappling with the pain of being cheated on, the humiliation of not knowing, and the complex web of emotions that came with love and betrayal. 

He felt like a part of him was breaking, the image of Esha, his partner, his love, now marred by this revelation. He questioned everything - their intimacy, her affection, the moments they shared. Had he been blind to her needs? Was this his fault for not seeing, not asking, not being there in the way she needed? The questions were relentless, each one a stab of doubt and self-reproach.

Yet, amidst the chaos of his thoughts, Priya's words offered a sliver of hope, a possibility that perhaps this wasn't the end but a painful pivot point. Kunal knew he needed time, space to process, to understand his own feelings before he could even begin to comprehend Esha's. The park, with its serene backdrop, now felt like a quiet witness to his pain, offering him the solitude to begin the slow, daunting task of piecing together his shattered trust and love.

The quiet of his study was a stark contrast to the storm brewing inside Kunal's mind. He sat at his desk, the room lit only by the soft glow of a desk lamp, casting long shadows that seemed to echo his thoughts. The revelation from Priya had left him in a state of shock, but he hadn't confronted Esha yet. Instead, he found himself in a reflective state, trying to piece together the puzzle of their marriage, to understand where the pieces had gone wrong or if they were ever in the right place to begin with.

Kunal leaned back in his chair, his eyes drifting to the framed photo on his desk of him, Esha, and Aditya at the beach last summer. The smiles in the picture seemed to mock him now, a reminder of what he thought was an unbreakable bond. He replayed moments in his mind, each one a memory of what he believed was genuine happiness. Esha's laughter, her eyes lighting up when Aditya did something amusing, her touch when she reached for his hand - all these gestures of love and respect.

But now, those memories were tinted with questions. Had he been too caught up in the routine of life to see her needs? He remembered the times when work had kept him late, the weekends filled with chores rather than adventures, the intimacy that had become more about comfort than passion. He winced at the thought of how many times he'd dismissed her suggestions for a night out or a new experience with a "maybe next time."

Was it his unintentional neglect that pushed her towards Aniket? The thought gnawed at him. He had always prided himself on being a good husband, a good father, but perhaps he had been so focused on providing stability that he forgot to nurture the spark, the excitement in their relationship. 

Kunal stood up, walking to the window to look out into the night, the city lights a blur through his troubled gaze. He thought back to the conversations with Priya, her words about the ignored needs of wives, the thrill of being desired, the importance of adventure. He had to admit there was truth in what she said, not just for others but for his own life with Esha. 

He recalled the times Esha tried to talk to him about her dreams, her interests outside of motherhood and work, how he'd listened but perhaps not truly heard. Had he failed to see her not just as a wife or a mother but as an individual with her own desires, her own need for exploration, for feeling alive outside the confines of their roles?

The idea of Esha's infidelity was a bitter pill to swallow, yet Kunal found himself pondering if her actions were a cry for attention, for something she was missing. He hadn't seen it as neglect before, but now, in the quiet of his reflection, he saw how his own actions might have contributed to this situation. Not out of malice but out of complacency, out of the assumption that love was enough without the effort to keep it vibrant.

He decided he would observe Esha more closely, not with the intent of catching her in the act but to truly notice her. To see beyond the daily routine, to understand what she might be seeking in Aniket that she felt she couldn't find at home. Maybe, he thought, the solution wasn't in confrontation but in understanding, in rediscovering what made their relationship special in the first place.

Kunal sat back down, his heart heavy but his resolve growing. He would reflect on what went wrong, not just in terms of Esha's actions but his own. He would look for signs, for moments where he could have done more, been more. Because if love was about anything, it was about growth, about learning and adapting, even if it meant facing the painful truth that his love had been part of the problem.

In this solitude, Kunal's reflection was not just on Esha's infidelity but on his own journey as a husband, as a partner in this complex dance of marriage. He knew he needed to change, to grow, if there was any hope of salvaging what they had built together, or perhaps, to build something new from the ashes of his misconceptions.


Kunal had been wrestling with a storm of emotions since Priya's last revelation. The idea of Esha with Aniket, the possibility of it all, had left him in a state of constant vigilance, his mind playing scenarios over and over. Priya, sensing his turmoil, had suggested they meet at the Hard Rock Cafe, not for a casual catch-up but under the guise of a work-related meeting. Her true intention was to guide Kunal towards understanding Esha's actions, to see what she was seeking beyond the betrayal.

They had planned to arrive separately, Priya texting Kunal the time and place, her message cryptic but clear: "We need to see this, Kunal. It's important for what comes next." Kunal arrived first, his heart a mix of dread and determination, choosing a booth where he could observe without being noticed, his eyes scanning the entrance for any sign of Esha and Aniket.

Priya joined him shortly after, her expression one of purpose rather than sympathy. "We're not here to judge, Kunal. We're here to understand," she whispered, taking her seat beside him. She had done her homework, learning from mutual acquaintances about Aniket and Esha's plans to meet at the Hard Rock Cafe tonight, under the pretense of a business discussion.

As they waited, Priya explained, "I've made sure we're positioned where we can see, but they won't see us. This isn't about catching them; it's about you seeing Esha in a context you've never considered before." Her voice was low, ensuring their conversation was private amidst the cafe's buzz.

The suspense was palpable, each second stretching as they watched for Esha and Aniket. Priya's plan was not just to show Kunal the act but to provoke a deeper introspection about their marriage, about the desires Esha might have been expressing in ways he hadn't seen or understood.


As the night stretched out, Esha and Aniket made their entrance, their arrival like a spark igniting the air. Esha was dressed in a simple tank top and jeans, a departure from her usual professional attire, her outfit highlighting her form in a way that was both casual and provocative. They chose a booth not far from Kunal and Priya, the dim, flickering lights casting an almost ethereal glow over their faces. The music played on, a live band adding to the seductive ambiance.

They ordered food, their meal a shared experience that seemed less about sustenance and more about savoring each other. Aniket took a piece of chicken, bringing it to Esha's lips, who bit into it, her eyes never leaving his. Priya, leaning close to Kunal, whispered, "Notice how they feed each other? It's not just about sharing food; it's about the intimacy of sharing oneself. It's a dance, Kunal, where each bite is a step closer to desire."

As the evening unfolded, their drinks arrived, and with each sip, the atmosphere around Aniket and Esha intensified. He grew more bold, his hand occasionally brushing against Esha's thigh under the table, a touch that was both possessive and exploratory. Esha's reactions were nuanced - a slight shift in her seat, her legs parting just a fraction, an unconscious or perhaps very conscious invitation.

Aniket leaned in, his lips close to Esha's ear, his voice lost to Kunal but not to Priya, who could read the body language. "I bet he's telling her how much he wants her, how he imagines them alone, away from all this," Priya murmured, watching Esha's cheeks flush, her eyes closing briefly in the thrill of the whispered promise. "Women crave that, Kunal. They want to feel desired, to know they're the focus of someone's world."

The drinks continued to flow, and with them, Aniket's inhibitions seemed to dissolve. His hand moved up, aiming for Esha's breast, a move that was both daring and laden with desire. Esha's face was a canvas of conflicting emotions - arousal mixed with the public's decorum. She gently pushed his hand away, her eyes darting around, a mix of excitement and caution. But then, with a mischievous glint in her eyes, she pulled a stole from her purse, dbanging it over both of them, creating an intimate tent in the middle of the cafe's chaos.

Priya, observing this, explained to Kunal, "She's not just covering up; she's creating a space where she can give in to her desires. She wants to feel that touch, that arousal, but she needs the safety, the privacy. It's about feeling alive, Kunal, about reclaiming her sexuality in a way she controls."

Under the stole, Aniket's hand found its way back to Esha's breast, his fingers tracing, teasing over her tank top, causing her to bite her lip, her breath hitching in a way that was both erotic and vulnerable. 

As they shared another drink, Aniket's hand moved lower, slipping under the hem of Esha's jeans, his fingers playing along the inside of her thigh. Esha's reaction was immediate; her body tensed, then relaxed into the touch, a silent consent amidst the playful denial. Priya whispered, "This is her giving permission, Kunal. Women want to be explored, to have their bodies celebrated. It's not just about the physical; it's about feeling cherished, about feeling like they're not just someone's wife or mother but a woman with her own sensuality."

The lights flickered in rhythm with the music, casting shadows that danced with the movements under the stole. Esha's hand found Aniket's, guiding him, showing him exactly where and how she wanted to be touched. Her face was a study in pleasure, her eyes half-closed, a slight smile playing on her lips.

With their faces hidden from the world, Aniket whispered something that made Esha laugh, a sound that was both innocent and loaded with lust. Priya guessed, "He's probably telling her how she affects him, how she's all he can think about. That's what women want to hear, Kunal - that they're not just a part of someone's life but the fantasy, the desire."

The band played a sultry number, and Esha and Aniket stood, moving to a less crowded part of the cafe. Their dance was a silent conversation of bodies, Aniket's hands on her hips, guiding her movements, their bodies close enough to feel every breath, every heartbeat. Priya narrated, "Look at how she moves with him. It's not just dancing; it's a release, an expression of her desires. She's showing him, showing herself, what she feels, what she wants."

Esha's tank top clung to her, accentuating her curves, and Aniket's response was clear in the way he held her, his body speaking of his arousal, his need. Their dance was a prelude, a public display of private desires.

Returning to their booth, the stole was still in play, offering them a cloak of secrecy. Aniket's hand ventured further, his fingers tracing the outline of Esha's panties under her jeans, a touch that was both bold and tender. Esha's response was to lean into him, her body language an open book of pleasure. Priya's commentary was soft, "See how she responds? She's not just accepting it; she's enjoying it, engaging with it. It's about feeling connected, Kunal, feeling that someone sees her, wants her in all her complexities."

They shared dessert, but it was more than just sweets. Aniket took a spoonful of ice cream, offering it to Esha, but not before licking the spoon, his eyes locked on hers. She took the spoon into her mouth, her tongue flicking out in a way that was unmistakably suggestive. Priya whispered, "She's telling him she wants to taste him, to savor him. It's erotic, Kunal, this play of food, of flavors. It's foreplay in the most public of settings."

As the night began to wind down, Aniket's hand found its way back under the stole, his fingers slipping inside Esha's panties, eliciting a small, sharp intake of breath from her. Her hand gripped his, guiding him, showing him exactly how she wanted to be touched. Priya's voice was almost a caress in Kunal's ear, "This is her showing him, showing herself, what she needs. Women need to feel that their desires are not just acknowledged but fulfilled. It's about empowerment, about feeling in control of your own pleasure."

The moment was charged, electric, a silent story of desire played out in the shadows of the Hard Rock Cafe. 

As Esha and Aniket prepared to leave, Priya turned to Kunal, her voice a blend of empathy and urgency, "Now you see, it's not just about infidelity. It's about what she's yearning for, what she's expressing. This isn't just about losing her; it's about understanding, possibly saving, what you have by acknowledging her as a woman with her own desires."

Kunal nodded, his mind a whirl of emotions. The scenes he'd witnessed, explained through Priya's lens, had reshaped his understanding of
Esha, of love, and of the complex dance that is desire. He knew his next steps would involve not just confronting Esha but embarking on a journey to understand and possibly fulfill those desires within the boundaries of their love. The Hard Rock Cafe, with its pulsating energy and shadowy corners, had not just been a backdrop for music but a stage for revelations of the heart.

The night's observations had peeled back layers of his perception of their marriage. Esha's tank top and jeans, an attire he rarely saw her in, spoke volumes of her desire to break from the roles she played daily, to be seen not just as a wife or mother but as a woman with her own needs and pleasures. Priya's commentary had acted as a lens, focusing his gaze on aspects of Esha's life he had overlooked or perhaps never truly seen.

As they left the cafe, the sounds of the city outside seemed to echo the turmoil and awakening within Kunal. He pondered over the moments he had witnessed - the playful feeding, the whispered words, the dance that was more than just steps, and the subtle, yet bold, touches that spoke of a deep-seated need for connection, for passion that wasn't just physical but emotional.

Priya, sensing Kunal's reflective mood, spoke softly, "You've seen her in a way you might not have before. It's not just about what she did; it's about why she did it. Esha's not just seeking an escape, Kunal. She's looking for something that affirms her, that makes her feel alive in ways she might not have felt in years."

Kunal nodded, his thoughts a mess of confusion, hurt, and a burgeoning sense of responsibility. "But how do I respond to this? How do I... how do we move forward?"

Priya's answer was measured, "Start by talking to her. Not with accusations but with questions, with a desire to understand. Love isn't just about possession, Kunal. It's about growth, about adapting to each other's changes, desires. She might have strayed, but perhaps it's a sign for you to look inward, to see what you can change, how you can reconnect."

The walk back to their cars was silent, each step through the bustling streets of Mumbai a metaphor for the journey Kunal felt he was about to undertake. 
of Esha's desires and the complexities of their relationship. "Kunal, tonight's different. It's about understanding, not just seeing," she said, her voice a mix of urgency and intrigue as they stood outside the cinema, the evening air thick with the anticipation of what was to come.


Esha had told Kunal she'd be attending a seminar, her tone neutral but with a hint of excitement that didn't quite match the mundanity of the excuse. She chose a saree for the occasion, its deep maroon color a stark contrast to her usual business attire, a choice that seemed symbolic of her stepping into a different role for the evening. Instead of a seminar, she was meeting Aniket at a cinema hall, under the pretense of watching a romantic movie.

Priya, having set this scenario in motion, met Kunal not with the intention of revealing a scene similar to the last but to deepen the narrative 
of Esha's desires and the complexities of their relationship. "Kunal, tonight's different. It's about understanding, not just seeing," she said, her voice a mix of urgency and intrigue as they stood outside the cinema, the evening air thick with the anticipation of what was to come.

They didn't enter the cinema together but waited until Esha and Aniket were inside. Priya had planned for them to sit in the balcony area, where they could observe without being seen, thanks to the theatre's unique design. The movie was already playing, the screen casting a soft light that painted everyone in hues of love and longing.

Esha and Aniket were seated closer to the front, the distance adding a layer of suspense for Kunal, who could only partially see them through the gaps between the seats. The movie was a backdrop to their own drama, the sound of the romance on screen a stark contrast to the silent tension in the balcony.

As the movie's plot thickened, Priya whispered to Kunal, "Listen to their conversation. It's not just about what you can see." Their voices were muffled but clear enough for Kunal to catch snippets - Aniket's low, teasing tone, Esha's soft laughter, a sound he hadn't heard in their home in so long. 

The film's most intimate scenes played out, and Kunal could hear Aniket's voice drop even lower, "You in this saree, it's like watching a different film." Esha's response was a whispered challenge, "Only if you can keep up with the plot."

Priya, sensing Kunal's growing tension, added, "She's not just with him for the thrill, Kunal. It's about the narrative she's creating for herself, one where she's the heroine, not just the wife."

The suspense was palpable as Kunal strained to hear more, catching phrases that spoke of longing, of a desire for something more than the life they knew. Esha's voice, when it came, was a mix of seduction and vulnerability, "I want to feel like this isn't just a movie, Aniket. I want it to be real."

The tension in the balcony was a mirror to the scenes playing below, but the distance, the partial visibility, added a layer of mystery, of not knowing exactly what was happening but feeling its impact. Kunal was caught in a web of emotions, the suspense of not seeing everything clearly paralleling his struggle to understand Esha's actions.

Then, there was silence, a pause in their conversation that matched a quiet scene on screen. Priya leaned closer to Kunal, her voice barely a whisper, "This pause, it 
tells you more than words ever could. It's the moment where she's deciding how far she's willing to go, how much she's willing to risk."

Suddenly, the sound of rustling fabric reached Kunal's ears, a sign of movement in the dark, a silent act that spoke volumes. He could imagine, but not see, Aniket's hand finding Esha's, perhaps moving up her arm, tracing the line of her saree. The suspense was intense, the not knowing, the imaging, more provocative than any clear view could have been.

Priya's hand on Kunal's arm was a grounding force. "She's not just seeking physical pleasure. It's about reclaiming parts of herself she feels she's lost or never explored. She's writing her own script tonight."

The movie's climax approached, and with it, the conversation between Esha and Aniket intensified, their whispers now carrying a weight of desire and decision. "This isn't just about us," Esha murmured, her voice barely audible over the soundtrack, "It's about me feeling alive."

Kunal felt a mix of jealousy, curiosity, and a dawning understanding. The suspense of the situation, the fragmented sentences he caught, painted a picture of Esha not just as his wife but as someone seeking a narrative where she could be both the protagonist and the explorer of her own desires.

As the credits began to roll, signaling the end of the movie and their moment, Priya guided Kunal away, her voice soft, "You've heard enough, Kunal. It's time to think about what this means for you, for her, for the story you both want to tell."

The walk back was shrouded in silence, the city around them oblivious to the drama unfolding within Kunal. He was left with more questions than answers, the suspense of the evening leaving him in a state of uncertainty about Esha's desires, about his own feelings, and about the future of their relationship.



After what Kunal had seen at the cinema, his home no longer felt like home. Every room reminded him of what he'd lost. At work, he couldn't concentrate, his thoughts always on Esha with Aniket. Sleep was a battle he lost every night, leaving him exhausted and alone in their bed.

Talking to Esha was hard now, every word and smile felt fake. They acted normal for Aditya, but Kunal knew it was all a show. At dinner, he barely ate, his stomach twisted into knots. He watched Esha, trying to see if he had missed any signs of her unhappiness before.

His colleagues noticed he wasn't himself, his work suffered. The pictures of Esha and Aniket, even if only in his mind, hurt like a physical wound. His body reacted; he felt sick, his head throbbed, and food had no taste.

When he was alone, Kunal thought back to their past, looking for hints he might have overlooked. Her late nights at work, her new hobbies he never joined - could they have been signs she was pulling away?

The idea of their marriage falling apart was terrifying. It felt like everything was slipping away, including the joyful moments with Aditya. Kunal felt like he had failed as a husband and father, unable to keep their family together.

He spent more time alone, in silence, thinking about their life, now under threat. Every memory was painful, knowing Esha might have been living another life while he was unaware.

His health got worse; he couldn't eat, felt drained all the time. People suggested he see a doctor, but he knew the real problem was his heart, not his body.

Kunal was sinking into a deep sadness, questioning his own worth and the trust in their relationship. The images of Esha and Aniket haunted him, slowly destroying his peace, his trust, and his view of the future. His life was now a shadow of what he thought was happiness, overshadowed by betrayal.

[clearlover]

Part H

Kunal's descent into despair had led him to a point where desperation clouded his judgment. One evening, with Esha supposedly at Priya's for a night out—a lie she had told after Priya had called Kunal to ask permission, which now felt like a setup—the silence of their home was too loud, the unanswered questions too pressing. He found himself in their bedroom, his gaze falling on Esha's laptop, left open on her desk. The temptation to invade her privacy was overwhelming, driven by a need to understand, to confirm his fears.

He hesitated, the moral line clear, but his heart was already breaking, and the unknown was tearing him apart. With a heavy heart, he opened her laptop, finding it unlocked. The first thing he noticed was the WhatsApp app, where Esha's recent conversations were listed. His hand trembled as he clicked on Aniket's name.

The chat was a dual narrative. On one side were messages that spoke of love, of Esha's deep affection for Kunal, her daily updates about Aditya, her appreciation for the life they had built. "Kunal made dinner tonight, it was so sweet," one message read. Another, "Aditya's kindergarten play was amazing, wish you could have seen it." These were the Esha he knew, the one he loved, talking about their family with warmth.

But then, there were the other messages, the ones that felt like a punch to his gut. They were explicit, charged with a desire that was foreign to their marriage bed. "I can't stop thinking about that night at your apartment, how you made me feel," Esha had written to Aniket, clearly referring to the one full night they had spent together, the night she had lied about being at Priya's. "I need that escape, that liberation I feel only with you." The words were followed by descriptions of their encounter, phrases that detailed their passion, their sexual chemistry, the thrill Esha found in Aniket's arms.



Esha: That night , I felt you in ways I never knew were possible ??. The way you touched me, like you knew every secret part of me.
Esha: Your hands, Aniket, they were everywhere ??, making me ache for more. I've never felt so consumed, so alive.
Esha: I can still feel your lips on me ??, the way you kissed down my body, taking your time, savoring me like I was the only thing that mattered.
Esha: The way you entered me, slow at first, then with that hunger that matched mine ??. I was lost in you, in us, in that moment of pure ecstasy.
Esha: You made me scream, Aniket, scream in ways I've never done before ?️?. The liberation of letting go completely, just being for that moment.
Esha: I crave that feeling again, the way you fucked me like you couldn't get enough ??. It was like we were the only two people in the world, our bodies speaking a language only we understood.
Esha: Your cock, the way it filled me, stretched me ??, made me feel like I was yours in every way. I felt every thrust, every pulse, every shudder.
Esha: When you made me come, it was like a release of everything I've been holding back ??. I felt free, truly free, with you.
Esha: That night, you awakened something in me ??, a desire I didn't know I had, a need to be taken, to be owned by you in that moment.
Esha: I love how you whispered dirty things in my ear ??, how you told me how good I felt, how much you wanted me. It was intoxicating.
Esha: The way you held me after, the silence that followed our storm of passion ??, it was like we shared a secret, something sacred just between us.


Kunal's stomach churned, the explicitness repulsing him, yet he couldn't look away. He scrolled through, reading about moments where Esha described feeling alive, free in ways she hadn't with him. There was talk of fantasies fulfilled, desires explored, an intimacy that seemed to transcend the physical. The realization that she had lied to him, used Priya as a cover, made the betrayal cut even deeper.




Esha: With you, I feel like I'm truly living, not just existing ?✨. It's like a part of me that was asleep has woken up.
Esha: That night, I was free, Aniket, free from all the roles I play, just being me, just feeling ??.
Esha: You made me explore parts of myself I never knew existed ??️. It's like you unlocked a door to a new world of desires.
Esha: The way we connected, it wasn't just physical; it was like our souls were dancing together ??. I've never felt that with anyone.
Esha: I confessed fantasies I never thought I'd share, and you embraced them, made them real ??. It was liberating, exhilarating.
Esha: You fulfilled desires I didn't even know I had, desires that scared me because they felt so deep, so raw ??.
Esha: There's an intimacy with you that goes beyond the body, beyond the bed. It's like we're sharing secrets of the universe ??.
Esha: I lied to Kunal, used Priya as a cover, because I needed this night with you, needed to feel alive again ??. The guilt is eating at me, but the freedom was worth it.
Esha: I'm torn, Aniket. I love Kunal, but with you, I feel like I can breathe, like I can be all of me without apology ??️.
Esha: I'm scared of what this means, of what I've become. But that night, I felt more me than I have in years ??.
Esha: We transcended something that night, something I can't explain, but I know it's changed me forever ??.


Amidst this, Esha's guilt was palpable, her struggle evident. "I love Kunal, I do. This isn't about not loving him," one message confessed. "But this part of me, it needs something different, something I can't explain." Her words painted a picture of a woman torn between two worlds, loving one, desiring another, and the deceit she had employed to achieve that desire.

Kunal closed the laptop, his mind a whirl of emotions. He was repulsed yet forced to see beyond the betrayal. Esha's messages to him were genuine, filled with love, but the ones to Aniket spoke of a different kind of need, a fulfillment that was missing from their life together. He began to see her actions not just as cheating but as a desperate search for something she felt was absent, coupled with the pain of her lying to him.

He pondered his role in this, questioning if he had been blind to her needs, if his love had been enough in all aspects. Was he to blame for her seeking this elsewhere? His heart ached with the complexity of it all. He had invaded her privacy, yet what he found was not just confirmation of his fears but a revelation of the human complexities of Esha, of their marriage, and the deceit she had woven to maintain her dual life.

The night stretched on, and Kunal sat in the dark, his mind replaying the words he had read, trying to reconcile the Esha he knew with the one who sought passion and adventure outside their home, through lies and secrets. He was caught between anger, sadness, and an emerging understanding that perhaps, in his own way, he had failed to see or meet her desires, leading her to this secret life.


The revelation of Esha's messages with Aniket had left Kunal in a state of turmoil, but as days turned into weeks, he began seeking solace in the familiar. He found himself at their local park, a place where they had built countless memories as a family, where Aditya had first learned to ride a cycle. The trees here whispered of simpler times, and it was under their shade that Kunal sought clarity.

Sitting on a bench, watching the world go by, Kunal reflected on the conversations he had read, the dual life Esha had led. He wrestled with the concept of fidelity, questioning if love was truly about possession or if it was more about freedom and understanding. The park, with its open spaces, seemed to echo his thoughts on freedom.

He thought about the sacrifices in marriage, the silent agreements made in the name of love. Had he sacrificed too much of Esha's individuality for the stability of their family? The messages had shown him a side of Esha he hadn't appreciated or perhaps even acknowledged—her need for passion, for exploration beyond their routine.

Kunal felt the sting of his own inadequacy. He had thought his love was enough, that his provision of stability, comfort, was what marriage demanded. But reading Esha's words to Aniket, he saw her affair not as a betrayal of love but as a quest for something missing from their life together. Maybe she wasn't seeking to replace him but to find a part of herself she felt had been lost or suppressed.

In the quiet of the park, with only the sounds of nature and distant children's laughter, Kunal began to empathize with Esha's need for sexual freedom, for liberation from the roles she played daily. He realized that her love for him, for Aditya, was still there, strong and unwavering, but perhaps it was not the only kind of love she needed.

He pondered over what this meant for their marriage. Esha's affair wasn't the root of their problems; it was a symptom of unmet needs, of desires unfulfilled. The idea that her seeking Aniket might not be wrong in the context of their relationship began to take root. Could love be about allowing the other to explore, to grow, even if it meant stepping outside traditional boundaries?

Kunal's heart ached at the thought of sharing Esha, but he also felt a dawning sense of peace with the idea. Maybe accepting this part of her life could save their marriage, could allow them to redefine what love meant for them. He considered the radical notion of an open marriage, not as defeat but as an extension of love, understanding that Esha was more than just his wife or Aditya's mother—she was a woman with deep, complex needs.

He sat there until the sun began to set, the sky painting a picture of hope and change. Acceptance wasn't about losing Esha but about gaining a deeper understanding of her. He thought about the love they shared, the family they had built, and how this could coexist with Esha's desires for freedom and exploration. 

The walk back home was not one of defeat but of purpose. Kunal knew he needed to talk to Esha, not with anger or demands for change, but with an open heart, ready to listen, to understand, and perhaps to embrace a new way of loving. He was ready to explore a path where love wasn't about control but about growth, where their marriage could be strong enough to encompass both their needs, where Esha could be true to herself without losing the family she cherished. It was a path to understanding, one that might just lead to a new kind of happiness for all of them.



In their dimly lit living room, where the evening's only sound is the soft ticking of a clock, symbolizing the time they've lost, Kunal sits on the sofa. His steps around the house had echoed his inner turmoil, leading him here, to this moment of confrontation. A folder of printed WhatsApp messages lies between him and Esha as she enters, her heart sinking at the sight.

Kunal's voice is a whisper of pain, "Esha, do you remember our vows? The ones where we promised fidelity, to honor each other?" His words, though not shouted, are heavy with betrayal, each one a reminder of the love they thought they shared.

Esha feels her world collapsing. She tries to speak, but her words are choked by a wave of emotion. "Kunal, I..." she begins, but her voice fails her, her eyes wide with shock, reflecting her guilt. She sinks into a chair, her mind a whirlwind of explanations and apologies, but nothing comes out. She's devastated, her secret life now exposed, the love and family she holds dear laid bare in the harsh light of her infidelity. The silence stretches, filled only with her soft sobs, each one an echo of her regret. 

Kunal watches her, his face contorted in sadness, his eyes searching hers for some sign of the woman he thought he knew. "Why, Esha? Why did you do this to us?" he asks, his voice breaking, seeking not just an explanation but some form of acknowledgment.

Feeling cornered, Esha excuses herself, her steps heavy with the burden of confession. In the privacy of their bedroom, she dials Priya, her voice shaking. "Priya, he knows. Kunal knows everything," she whispers, her tears representing her inner turmoil.

Priya, her heart heavy with her part in this revelation, responds with a calm that belies her guilt, "You need to be honest with him now, Esha. Honesty, no matter how painful, is your only way forward. Tell him how you feel, why you sought Aniket." Her words are a lifeline, urging Esha towards transparency.

Taking a deep breath, bolstered by Priya's advice, Esha returns to Kunal. She sits beside him, careful to keep distance, the space between them filled with unspoken questions. "Kunal, I love you, I love our family, but I've been lost, searching for something..." Her voice quivers, each word a struggle. "I didn't mean to hurt you, to hurt us. I've been feeling like a part of me was missing, something I couldn't find here." 

Kunal listens, his face a mask of pain, trying to understand the woman he thought he knew, the life they've built now under scrutiny. "How could you feel missing when we have everything? When you have me, Aditya?" His voice is thick with confusion, with hurt, but there's also a desperate need to understand.

Esha's eyes are pleading, her voice barely above a whisper, "I love what we have, Kunal. You're my heart, my home. But with Aniket, I've discovered parts of myself I didn't know existed. It's not about loving you less; it's about needing to explore, to feel alive in a different way."



In the same living room, where the earlier confrontation left the space disheveled, reflecting their emotional upheaval, the darkness outside matches the mood inside. The silence is no longer just of betrayal but of a need for understanding.

Esha, bolstered by Priya's advice, finds her voice steadier, her words clearer. "Kunal, I love you, deeply. You're my anchor, my family," she says, her voice soft yet firm, the truth spilling out. "But with Aniket, I've discovered parts of myself I didn't know existed."

She continues, "With you, I feel safe, loved, part of a family. With Aniket, there's a thrill, a sense of freedom, an exploration of desires I've kept hidden." Her words paint a picture of two worlds, each fulfilling different parts of her. "The passion with Aniket is intoxicating, but it comes with so much guilt. I've been at war with myself, trying to compartmentalize these feelings, but they've grown too big to ignore."

Esha's eyes are earnest as she speaks of their love, "You're my husband, Kunal. My love for you is not less because of what I've found with Aniket; it's just different." She reminds him of their shared moments, the laughter, the quiet evenings, their joy in parenting Aditya. "I've betrayed our trust, our marriage, and for that, I'm sorry. But I couldn't ignore this part of me that needed to breathe."

She then reveals the depth of her struggle, "I've been living two lives, not knowing how to merge them or if they can even coexist." Her voice carries the weight of her fear, "I'm terrified of losing everything, of hurting you, but I'm also scared of losing myself if I deny these desires. I need you to understand, Kunal. I'm seeking forgiveness, or at least, some form of acceptance."

Kunal listens, his face a canvas of conflicting emotions. There's anger, pain, but also a flicker of understanding. He's silent, grappling with the complexity of Esha's confession, the dual life she's led alongside theirs. His response isn't verbal; instead, his look is one of confusion and hurt, trying to reconcile his love for Esha with the betrayal
he's experienced. His eyes, once full of love, now reflect the storm within him, the struggle to understand how the woman before him could lead such a divergent life. 

He stands, needing space to think, to process the revelations that have shattered his understanding of their marriage. He walks towards the window, looking out into the night, his back to Esha, leaving her with the silence of her confession. Esha watches him, her heart heavy, knowing that her words have opened a wound that might heal or might forever change them, but the path forward is yet to be determined.


The night after their heart-wrenching conversation, the weight of Esha's confession lingers in the air. Kunal, having spent time in silent reflection, finds Esha in their bedroom, where the dim light seems to magnify the space between them. He sits beside her, not touching, the gap between them filled with unresolved emotions. "Esha, I can't promise what will happen with us," he begins, his voice a low murmur, a mix of pain and confusion. "I'm trying to understand if this is my fault, if I've pushed you to seek something I didn't provide."

The silence that follows is almost tangible, heavy with the unsaid. Kunal, in a moment of raw honesty, breaks it with a shocking request, "I need to see you with him, Esha. I need to see what I've only imagined, to understand." His voice is a plea, not just for clarity but for a confrontation with reality, a way to bridge the gap between his imagination and truth.

Esha recoils at the thought, her face reflecting shock, shame, and disbelief. The idea of such intimacy with Aniket in front of Kunal feels like the ultimate humiliation, a public display of her private betrayal. "Kunal, how could you ask this of me?" she manages, her voice cracking under the weight of her emotions. "It's humiliating, it's wrong." Tears well up, the shame of the situation overwhelming her, yet there's an underlying sense of duty, a penance she feels she owes.

She wrestles with her feelings, part of her yearning to reject Kunal's request outright, to shield him from more pain, to protect herself from further degradation. But another part of her feels a responsibility, a need to show Kunal the depth of her dual life, even if it means laying bare her most intimate secrets.

Seeing her distress, Kunal tries to explain, his voice thick with emotion, "I need this to move forward, Esha, whether it's with or without you. I need to see to understand, to make sense of all this." His request isn't driven by voyeurism but by a desperate need for tangible evidence, to confront what he's been imagining, to perhaps find a path to healing or room is silent once more, Esha's mind a whirlwind of conflict. She understands Kunal's need to see, to know, but the thought of performing such an act in front of him is mortifying. Yet, she also sees it as a chance for Kunal to witness the reality of her desires, perhaps to understand her in a way he couldn't through words alone.



The emotional turmoil from Kunal's request leaves Esha feeling adrift, like a ship lost in a storm. She seeks sanctuary at Priya's apartment, a place that once was just about laughter and secrets but now holds the weight of decisions that could alter their lives forever. Esha's voice shakes with a mixture of pain and confusion as she recounts the conversation, "He wants to watch me with Aniket, Priya. How can I do that to him, to us? How can I expose our love like that?" Her eyes are red from crying, her hands trembling.

Priya, who has subtly orchestrated events to push for resolution, listens intently, her gaze focused on Esha. She feels a pang of guilt for her role but maintains her composure, her words thoughtful, "Esha, if Kunal needs this to process everything, maybe it's a step towards understanding, towards possibly healing." Her tone is measured, revealing her calculated approach to this complex situation.

She then reveals her prior actions, "I've been thinking this might be the only way for Kunal to truly see what you feel with Aniket, to confront his own feelings about it." Priya admits she had hinted to Aniket about involving Kunal in their love-making, laying bare her strategic involvement in their lives. "I thought if he could see it, he might begin to understand, not just the betrayal, but the part of you that's been hidden."

Esha feels like she's caught in a web, her mind screaming with the conflict of her emotions. "But how can this help? How can exposing our intimacy like this mend anything?" Her voice trembles, fear of further damaging their relationship gripping her. "It feels like I'm being punished, or worse, like I'm punishing him. How can I look into his eyes after something like this? How can I live with myself?"

Priya, sensing Esha's turmoil, encourages her, "If Kunal can see you with Aniket, he might also see how much you still love him, how you're not just a different person with Aniket but a woman with complex needs. It might make him feel more part of your life, not less." She emphasizes the potential for this act to not just expose Esha's desires but to also bring Kunal into the fold, lessening his feeling of being an outsider. "It's not about the act itself, Esha. It's about showing him the depth of your feelings, the complexity of your love."

Esha's inner conflict is palpable; part of her wants to refuse, to protect Kunal from further pain and herself from further shame. "But what if it's the end?" she whispers, her voice barely audible. "What if watching us together breaks everything we have left?"

Yet, despite her reservations, the logic of Priya's words begins to seep through Esha's defenses. She imagines a scenario where this could offer Kunal the clarity he seeks, where it might not end their marriage but instead reshape it in a way that acknowledges both her needs and his pain. "I'm terrified, Priya. Terrified of losing him, of losing what we have, but also of denying who I've become," she admits, her voice cracking under the weight of her confession.

Priya reaches out, her hand gentle on Esha's, "Sometimes, facing the truth, no matter how hard, is the only way forward. You're not just doing this for Kunal; you're doing it for you, for your truth. Maybe this is the key to understanding, to healing, or at least to closure."

With a heavy heart, Esha nods, her decision made but not without the sting of fear and the heavy cloak of guilt. "I'll talk to Aniket," she says, her voice now steady despite the turmoil inside. "I need to prepare him for what this might mean for all of us." 

The weight of this decision hangs over her like a dark cloud, but she clings to a sliver of hope that this might be the path to not just understanding but perhaps even reconciling their shattered relationship. She leaves Priya's apartment with a resolve she didn't know she had, preparing for what might be one of the hardest nights of her life, yet driven by the desperate hope that it could lead to some form of healing or at least, a new beginning from the ashes of their past.



The atmosphere in Aniket's apartment was thick with Esha's presence, her scent wafting through the air like a ghostly reminder of the life she lived here. Kunal stood at the doorway, his heart a tumult of emotions - love, jealousy, anger, all battling for supremacy. The familiar fragrance of Esha's perfume, now mixed with the unique scent of Aniket's home, sent a wave of pain through him, a reminder of what he had lost, or perhaps, never truly had.

As he entered, his eyes darted around, picking up on the subtle signs of Esha's influence in this space - a scarf dbangd over a chair, a book she loved on the shelf, small but poignant tokens of her life here. "I can still smell her here," Kunal said, his voice tinged with a bitterness he couldn't mask, his words an attempt to shield his vulnerability. "This place reeks of her, of you."

Aniket, standing near the window where the light softened his features, turned to face Kunal, his expression one of understanding rather than defense. "Please, sit, Kunal," he said, gesturing to a chair with a calm that belied the tension in the room. "I know this isn't easy for you. Esha's love for you is undeniable. She speaks of you with such respect, such love. She values what you have together."

Kunal's gaze met Aniket's, a storm brewing in his eyes. There was an urge to lash out, to demand answers, but Aniket's demeanor was disarming. Despite the confrontation, Aniket's respect for both Kunal and Esha was evident, his words carrying weight. Kunal, caught between his anger and the undeniable charm of Aniket, felt a strange respect for the man before him, even if he didn't want to admit it.

"You think you can just take her from me?" Kunal's voice was a mix of challenge and pain, his hands clenched into fists at his side.

Aniket shook his head slowly, his voice a calm river in contrast to Kunal's storm. "It's not about taking, Kunal. It's about understanding. Esha doesn't want to leave you; she's seeking something she feels she needs. But I respect your place in her life, your family." His eyes were sincere, his posture open, inviting Kunal to see beyond the betrayal to the complexity of human emotions.

The tension in the room was palpable, yet Aniket's calm presence seemed to soothe the air around them. Kunal felt an odd sensation - the urge to fight clashed with the urge to understand. He sat down, his body language softening but his eyes still fiery. "And what about you, Aniket? What do you seek from all this chaos?"

Aniket took a moment, choosing his words carefully. "I seek to understand Esha, to help her find herself in ways she feels she's been missing. But you, Kunal, you are her anchor, her family. I would never wish to disrupt that. I believe in love being expansive, not exclusive."

Kunal snorted, a sound of disbelief mixed with a reluctant respect for Aniket's perspective. "Expansive, huh? That's a nice way to justify stealing another man's wife.Aniket's face remained composed, but his eyes showed a flicker of sadness. "It's not about justification, Kunal. It's about truth. Esha loves you, deeply. She's torn, not because she wants to leave you, but because she's discovering parts of herself she didn't know existed. I'm part of that journey, not the end of yours."

The room fell silent, the weight of Aniket's words hanging between them. Kunal looked around, his gaze catching on a photo of Esha, her smile radiant, a smile he knew well but now questioned if he truly understood its depths. "She's changed," he whispered, more to himself than to Aniket."She's growing," Aniket corrected gently. "And she needs both of us to understand that. Please, reconsider your decision. For Esha's sake. For your family's sake. She loves you both in different ways. It doesn't have to mean loss."

Kunal felt his resolve waver, the complexity of the situation dawning on him. He had come here with anger, with a need to confront, but Aniket's words, his respect, were disarming. "I've made my decision," he said, his voice less certain than before. "I need to understand, to see what part of her life I've been missing."

Aniket nodded, acknowledging Kunal's stance. "I respect that. And whatever you decide, I want you to know that I will always honor Esha's love for you. I hope we can both agree to treat her, and each other, with the respect she deserves."

The air in the room shifted from confrontation to a tentative understanding. Kunal, despite his pain, recognized a sincerity in Aniket that he hadn't anticipated. Aniket's charm, his respect for the situation, was undeniable, even to Kunal in his moment of turmoil. 
"I don't like this, Aniket. I don't like any of this," Kunal admitted, his voice now a mix of defeat and a strange form of acceptance. "But I see your respect for her... for us."

Aniket extended his hand, a gesture of peace amidst the chaos. "No matter what happens, let's ensure Esha knows she's loved, respected, by both of us."

Kunal looked at the hand, then back at Aniket, his eyes searching for deceit but finding none. He took the hand, the grip firm, a silent pact formed. "We'll keep this respectful, for Esha's sake. No matter the outcome."As Kunal left Aniket's apartment, Esha's fragrance lingered on him, now interwoven with a new, complex scent - one of understanding, yet underscored by the bitter tang of his decision to witness Esha and Aniket's love-making. He walked away, his heart a battleground of emotions, yet he justified his choice.


The guestroom was dim, the only light filtering through the partly closed curtains casting long shadows across the room where Kunal now slept alone. The door opened, and Esha stepped in, her face a complex tapestry of rage and sadness, her cheeks flushed with a mixture of anger and the pain of a thousand unspoken words. Her steps were heavy, each one echoing the turmoil within.

"Kunal," she began, her voice a whisper that belied the storm brewing inside her, "I got a call from Priya
. She told me about your plan." Her eyes searched his, seeking something, anything, that could explain this new depth of their shared pain. "You want me to be with Aniket on my birthday, in front of you? Is this how you want to deal with us?" Her voice trembled, not from fear, but from the sheer force of her emotions.

Kunal sat on the edge of the bed, his gaze fixed on the floor, his posture rigid with tension. He didn't look up; he couldn't. His heart was a battlefield where love and betrayal clashed, leaving him silent, his eyes cold with a pain he couldn't express.

Esha watched him, her own heart breaking as she saw the man she loved, now so distant, so lost in his own turmoil. She pulled out her phone, her hand shaking as she dialed Aniket. The sound of the dial tone filled the room, slicing through the heavy silence.

"Aniket," she said, her voice loud enough for Kunal to hear, the words tasting like ash in her mouth. "Kunal wants us to do it. He wants us to be together on my birthday, with him watching." Her voice cracked, the reality of what she was saying hitting her like a wave.

Kunal's hands clenched into fists, his knuckles white, but he made no move to speak, his silence was his inner conflict.

Esha paused, her eyes briefly locking with Kunal's, which remained distant, cold. "I guess as a woman, I'm supposed to do what a man wants, isn't that right, Kunal?" Her words were laced with a bitterness that she could no longer hide.

Kunal flinched, the comment piercing through his facade of indifference, but he kept his eyes downcast, his face a mask of stoic pain.

"I'm inviting you," Esha continued, her voice gaining a steely edge, "but we won't meet until then. We'll do this, for Kunal's satisfaction." She looked at him, her eyes now burning with a mix of defiance and hurt. "Is this what you want, Kunal? To see me like this, to strip away my dignity for your...
what, closure? Revenge?" Her voice was thick with emotion, each word a challenge to the man who had once been her everything.

Kunal's breath was shallow, his body tense as if he were holding back a flood of emotions. He didn't respond, his silence speaking volumes about the war within him. He was torn between the need to see the truth of Esha's desires and the pain of knowing he was part of this twisted plan.

Esha, feeling the weight of the moment, the gravity of what they were about to do, continued, "If this is what it takes for you to understand, for you to deal with your pain, then so be it." Her voice softened, the anger giving way to a profound sadness, "But know this, Kunal, I'm doing this not because I want to, but because I love you enough to try to fix what's broken between us. I love you enough to bear this humiliation if it means we can find some peace."

Kunal's gaze finally lifted, meeting hers for a fleeting moment before dropping back to the floor. His eyes were a storm of emotions, but he couldn't find the words, couldn't express the chaos inside. He wanted to shout, to argue, to deny it all, but all he felt was a deep, numbing cold.

Esha's phone was still in her hand, the call ongoing as Aniket listened. "Aniket," she said, her voice now a whisper, "I need you to understand too. This isn't just about what Kunal wants. It's about us, about what we've become, about trying to salvage something from this mess."

There was a pause, Aniket's response a quiet affirmation in Esha's ear, his words not meant for Kunal. She ended the call, her hand trembling as she lowered the phone. She looked at Kunal, her eyes searching for any sign of the man she knew, the man she loved.

"Kunal," she said, her voice breaking, "I never wanted to hurt you. I never wanted any of this. But if watching us together is what you need to move forward, then we'll do it. But remember, I'm doing this for us, for our family, for whatever chance we have left to heal."

Kunal's face was a mask of sorrow, his eyes still avoiding hers, the silence between them filled with the echoes of their past love, their present pain, and an uncertain future. He knew he had asked for this, but the reality of it was crushing. He wanted to reach out, to stop this madness, but the fear of the unknown, of living in ignorance, held him back.

Esha turned to leave, the door closing with a soft click, leaving Kunal alone with his thoughts, his heart heavy like a stone. He sat there, the room now too quiet, too empty, as he grappled with his decision, with the love he still felt for Esha, and the pain of knowing that their love had led them to this point. He questioned if this was the way to mend what was broken or if it would tear them apart further.

[clearlover]

PART  I


The morning light, sharp and intrusive, laid bare Esha's reflection in the mirror. It was her birthday, yes, but the day felt weighted with more than just the passing of years. Today, she was stepping onto a stage where the script wasn't her own, where her beauty was a pawn in a game played by the men in her life. Priya's words echoed in her mind, a stark reminder of how women are often forced to dance to the tune of male desire. The weight of those expectations settled on her like a suffocating cloak, yet a spark of defiance glimmered in her eyes.

Esha stood before her mirror, the morning light caressing her skin with a sensual warmth, tracing the delicate curves of her body. Each movement was slow, deliberate, a ritualistic preparation for the night ahead. Her fingers lingered on the sky-blue saree she had chosen, its serene color a stark contrast to the tempest of emotions brewing within her. The fabric was sheer, a diaphanous veil that promised to reveal more than it concealed, hinting at the forbidden delights beneath. She grazed the delicate border, the silk a whisper against her skin, a silent promise of the pleasures to come.

The saree, a silken whisper against her skin, seemed to come alive as Esha stepped into its embrace. The fabric flowed over her legs, each fold a tender caress, molding itself to her form. The pleats fell in perfect harmony, accentuating the slender curve of her waist before cascading down in a graceful dbang. The pallu, dbangd over one shoulder, left the other bare, her skin luminous with anticipation.
The blouse, a masterpiece of seduction, was a testament to the night's desires. Cut low in the back, it traced the elegant line of her spine, an invitation to explore the forbidden. It clung to her breasts, the daringly low neckline offering a tantalizing glimpse of her cleavage. More than just beautiful, she was commanding, her every curve an assertion of her power. The air thrummed with the unspoken promise of pleasure, a silent invitation hanging heavy in the room.
Long, dangling earrings adorned her ears, their every sway a tantalizing dance that drew attention to the delicate curve of her neck. Bangles, a symphony of soft jingles, encircled her wrists, accompanying the graceful movements of her hands. Her makeup was the final flourish, a mask and a revelation. Kohl rimmed her eyes, making them appear larger, more expressive, windows to the depths of her desires and the turmoil within. Her lips, painted a deep, inviting red, were a silent dare, a promise of forbidden pleasures.
As Esha gazed at her reflection, she knew she was adorned for a battle fought not on a battlefield, but in the hearts of men. She was the embodiment of desire, a vision of captivating complexity. Her beauty was both a weapon and a shield, a tool and a defense in the silent war of love, lust, and societal expectations.
Kunal watched from the shadows, a bittersweet ache in his chest. This beauty, this meticulous preparation, was not for him. Yet, a flicker of pride ignited within him as he admired the woman he loved, adorned for a moment that held the power to shatter their world or forge it anew.
The air crackled with anticipation as Aniket entered, his gaze drawn to Esha like a moth to a flame. For a heartbeat, he forgot how to breathe. She was the embodiment of desire, a goddess dbangd in sky-blue silk that clung to her curves like a lover's embrace. The fabric, a tantalizing veil, hinted at the treasures it concealed, promising a feast for the senses.
A hush fell over the room as Aniket entered, the very air pregnant with anticipation. His eyes met Esha's, and for a moment, the world seemed to fall silent. She was breathtaking, a vision of ethereal beauty in sky-blue silk that dbangd her curves like a second skin. The fabric, a whisper of gossamer, hinted at the delights it concealed, promising a revelation that would steal his breath away.

His eyes traced a slow, appreciative path, starting from her delicate feet, traveling up her sculpted legs, lingering on the curve of her waist emphasized by the saree. The blouse, a masterpiece of artful seduction, invited his touch, the low back and daring neckline beckoning him closer. Her bare shoulder, smooth and inviting, seemed a canvas meant for his kisses, the playfully slipping pallu offering tantalizing glimpses of what was his in stolen moments of passion.
Aniket's heart pounded with a primal hunger, a desire that mingled with profound admiration. Esha's beauty was a force, drawing him in like a moth to a star. Her kohl-rimmed eyes held a universe of secrets and promises, her red lips a whispered invitation he longed to accept. He saw the intricate web of expectations that shaped her, yet to him, she was more than just a role. She was his muse, his deepest desire, the woman who could unravel him completely.
His admiration ran deeper than mere physical appreciation. He saw the woman behind the breathtaking facade, the one navigating a complex web of desires, not all of them her own. Yet, in that moment, he saw only the Esha he knew from their stolen trysts, the one who met his passion with an equal fire, the one who made him feel truly alive. He acknowledged the role she played for others, but his heart responded only to the woman beneath it all – the Esha who was beautiful, commanding, and utterly, undeniably his, even if their world existed only in the shadows.
The birthday gathering was a stage for veiled emotions, a performance where laughter and well wishes masked the simmering tension beneath the surface. Kunal and Aniket, both drawn to Esha's flame, were bound by an unspoken pact, each orbiting the woman they desired, each with their own expectations, their own claims on her heart.
laughter, bright and untroubled, was a poignant reminder of the innocence they were all fighting to protect. His happiness, genuine and unguarded, sliced through the thick tension as he stood between his parents for the cake cutting, a picture of familial bliss oblivious to the storm brewing on the horizon.
As the festivities began to wind down, Priya, ever perceptive, sensed the impending shift in the atmosphere. With a mother's intuition, she suggested taking Aditya for a sleepover, a subtle act of shielding him from the emotional turbulence that was sure to unfold. The farewells were drawn out, laden with extra kisses and lingering hugs, each gesture a silent plea for his protection from the maelstrom to come.
With Aditya's departure, the carefully constructed facade crumbled. Esha felt the weight of their gazes intensify, her body becoming a battleground for their unspoken desires. Her beauty, once a source of pride, now felt like a burden, a catalyst for the complex dance of love, duty, and expectation she was about to perform. Caught between the silent demands of the men who loved her, she struggled to maintain her own sense of self in the face of their conflicting desires.
With Aditya gone, a suffocating silence descended, the unspoken anticipation hanging heavy in the air. Esha, Kunal, and Aniket stood frozen in a tableau of tension, each grappling with the weight of the impending moment. It was Aniket who finally broke the spell, his voice a steady anchor in the swirling emotions.
"Tonight is about celebrating Esha," he said, his tone gentle yet resolute, his gaze meeting Kunal's in a silent acknowledgment of the tangled web they were weaving. "No matter what happens, she deserves to feel cherished on her birthday. Let's hold onto that, to her happiness, before anything else."
Kunal, visibly moved by Aniket's words, nodded slowly. His expression, though etched with pain, softened with a reluctant acceptance. "You're right," he conceded, his voice a mix of resignation and a deep-seated desire to honor Esha, even if it meant sacrificing his own desires. "Let's make this day about her, for her."
"This is a beautiful home," Aniket remarked, his voice warm with appreciation. "It feels... inviting. A reflection of its lovely hostess, I'd say." Esha blushed at the compliment, her eyes darting shyly towards Aniket before settling on Kunal.
A flicker of warmth coursed through Kunal at Aniket's words. "Thank you," he replied, a subtle hint of pride in his voice. "Esha has a gift for making any space feel like home." The simple exchange, a brief moment of shared appreciation, seemed to momentarily lighten the heavy atmosphere.
"The balcony is truly charming," Aniket continued, his gaze drawn to the French doors leading outside. "It was the first thing I noticed when I arrived."
"Kunal insisted on this flat specifically for its spacious balcony," Esha volunteered, a playful lilt in her voice. "I wanted something smaller, you know, to save a bit of money..."
Kunal chuckled, a genuine laugh that eased the tension further. "I enjoy spending time with my family out here," he explained, his eyes meeting Esha's in a rare moment of unguarded connection. "It's our little haven."
The shared glance between Kunal and Esha, a silent conversation passing between them, spoke volumes. It was a connection that had been buried beneath layers of unspoken words and unspoken desires, resurfacing now with a fragile hope.
"Excellent choice," Aniket affirmed with a nod of approval. Sensing the need to further diffuse the tension, he took charge, his movements purposeful yet relaxed. "Let's make use of this lovely balcony, shall we?" With a practiced ease, he rearranged the furniture, creating an inviting space with a three-seater sofa, two comfortable chairs, and a center table nestled between them.
"I happened to acquire a rather special bottle on my last trip to Europe," he announced once the arrangement was complete. He produced a bottle of amber liquid, the label proclaiming it to be an 18-year-old single malt whisky from Loch Lomond. "I've heard good things," Kunal remarked, a low whistle escaping his lips. "Always wanted to try it." Aniket smiled. "And of course, we have champagne to celebrate the occasion."
With the stage set for the evening, they moved out onto the balcony. Despite the undercurrent of anticipation, an air of civility prevailed, each man respecting the delicate balance of the situation.
Esha, though still apprehensive about the path the night might take, felt a wave of gratitude for the semblance of normalcy they had managed to maintain. She observed Aniket and Kunal, her heart warming at their efforts to preserve a sense of decorum, at least for now.
Kunal and Esha settled into the chairs, while Aniket claimed the sofa, choosing the side that offered the most captivating view. With a practiced flourish, he uncorded the champagne, the celebratory pop echoing in the stillness of the night. He filled three glasses, presenting two to Kunal and Esha with a smile, and keeping the third for himself. Raising his glass, he proposed a toast. "To the most beautiful lady—" he began, then paused, a playful glint in his eyes. "—to the most beautiful couple," he amended, "and to the birthday lady, of course."
Aniket's charm, his effortless ability to navigate social graces, was on full display. Esha, already well-acquainted with this facet of his personality, watched with a soft smile. Kunal, however, observed with a keen eye, a prickle of jealousy stirring within him. Aniket possessed the kind of charisma that could captivate any woman, he realized, a thought that ignited a flicker of unease.
The champagne flowed, followed by the rich, smoky allure of the whisky. Esha, however, opted for a soft drink, preferring to keep a clear head as the night unfolded and the unspoken intentions simmered beneath the surface. As the alcohol loosened their tongues, Kunal and Aniket delved into a lively discussion, their conversation traversing politics, sports, and the intricacies of the US market. Aniket, ever the attentive host, made a conscious effort to include Esha, but her responses were hesitant, laced with a shyness that bordered on apprehension. She seemed adrift in the conversation, her contributions limited to soft "hmms" and "ohs," her mind preoccupied with the unspoken purpose of their gathering.
Even as he played the part of the gracious host, Aniket's gaze kept returning to Esha, his eyes tracing the graceful lines of her body, lingering on the subtle tension in her expression, the way her makeup accentuated her features, lending her the ethereal beauty of an apsara. He was clearly captivated, his desire simmering just beneath the surface, waiting for an opportunity to express his admiration. That opportunity arose when Kunal excused himself to use the washroom.
Leaning closer, his voice a husky murmur, Aniket confessed, "You look absolutely enchanting tonight, Esha. If Kunal wasn't here..." he paused, letting the implication hang in the air, "I would have kissed that lipstick right off your lips. Maybe even more." His words, thick with longing, sent a blush creeping up Esha's neck, a silent acknowledgment of his appreciation. "You've made the atmosphere so comfortable," she replied, her voice a soft blend of embarrassment and gratitude, "it's almost as if Kunal has forgotten why we're all here." A hint of unease crept into her tone. "Do we really need to go through with this? It feels...demeaning, somehow."
Aniket's eyes gleamed with a mix of mischief and a calculated boldness. "Kunal isn't just tipsy," he observed, "he's practically swimming in his whisky. Come sit by me. Let's see how he reacts." Esha, weary of the emotional limbo, decided to confront the situation head-on. She yearned for a resolution, even if it meant facing the storm. With a mix of determination and trepidation, she moved to the sofa, but deliberately chose the spot furthest from Aniket, her body language a clear indication of her discomfort with the whole ordeal.
Kunal's return to the balcony was met with a scene that sent a jolt through his system. His heart stuttered at the sight of Esha, now perched on the far end of the sofa, her proximity to Aniket sending a wave of disquiet through him. Aniket, ever perceptive, seized the moment, his voice smooth yet laced with a confident boldness that seemed to dominate the space. "Esha was sitting at the end where the moonlight wasn't doing justice to her beauty," he explained, a playful glint in his eyes that belied the underlying challenge in his tone. The air crackled with tension as Aniket poured another round of whisky, the amber liquid gleaming in the moonlight like liquid gold.
His gaze settled on Esha's hands, a spark of admiration igniting in his eyes. "I was just admiring Esha's nail polish," he continued, his voice a silken caress. "Those tastefully manicured nails are simply divine, especially when bathed in the moonlight. That deep red... it's the color of passion." His words, rich with appreciation, hung heavy in the air, leaving Esha speechless. A blush crept up her neck, mirroring the very shade of red that Aniket so eloquently praised. She felt a flutter of both flattery and vulnerability under his intense gaze. Kunal, meanwhile, was struck by the observation. He had never noticed such details, a stark realization of the different ways in which he and Aniket perceived Esha. He looked at Aniket, his surprise and a burgeoning sense of inadequacy plain on his face.
Sensing the sudden shift in the atmosphere, Aniket swiftly steered the conversation towards a lighter, more neutral topic, attempting to diffuse the tension that had gathered like a storm cloud. Yet, the echo of his words about Esha's nails lingered, a subtle undercurrent that continued to ripple between Kunal and Esha.
As the third round of whisky dwindled, Aniket turned to Kunal, his voice a low, suggestive drawl. "Do you think Esha looks a little tired?" he inquired, his eyes flickering towards Esha. Caught off guard by the seemingly innocuous question, Esha shot Aniket a puzzled look, a hint of defiance in her eyes. She had expected him to follow Kunal's lead, but it seemed Aniket was now orchestrating the evening, steering it towards his own desires.
Kunal, still reeling from the image of Esha's delicate hands adorned with the deep red nail polish, struggled to process Aniket's question. His mind was a maelstrom of conflicting emotions, the alcohol blurring his clarity, making him feel like he was losing control of the situation. Aniket, sensing Kunal's vulnerability, pressed his advantage. "Would you mind, Kunal," he asked, his voice smooth as silk, "if I give Esha a little foot massage? Just to help her relax." Kunal, caught completely off guard, could only manage a stammered "Wh..." before his voice trailed off, his mind unable to formulate a coherent response.
Without waiting for a clear response from the increasingly inebriated Kunal, Aniket moved towards Esha with a predatory grace. He gently lifted her foot, still adorned with its delicate sandal, his touch sending a shiver down her spine. "Come now, Esha," he purred, his voice a silken coaxing, "it's just a foot massage." Esha's eyes darted to Kunal, a silent plea for him to intervene, but he was preoccupied, downing his whisky in one long gulp and reaching for the bottle to refill his glass. Feeling a wave of helplessness wash over her, Esha averted her gaze, her eyes flitting away as Aniket's hands firmly grasped her ankles. A memory flickered in her mind – Aniket had always had a particular fascination with her feet, his numerous gifts of anklets a testament to his captivation.
In a swift, practiced motion, Aniket slipped off her sandals, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through her. As his fingers began to knead her feet, Esha leaned down, her breath warm against his ear. "Aniket," she whispered, her voice a heady mix of arousal and apprehension, "Kunal is watching." But Kunal, his senses heightened by the alcohol, was already captivated by the scene unfolding before him, his ears catching every word of their hushed exchange. "Isn't this what Kunal wants?" Aniket countered, a playful challenge in his tone. "He can stop it at any moment if he wishes." He paused, his voice dropping to a seductive murmur. "Now sit back and relax." His words were a command veiled in a sensual invitation, leaving Esha caught between a thrilling fear and a burgeoning desire.
As Aniket's hands kneaded her feet, sending waves of warmth through her body, Esha instinctively leaned back against the plush footrest of the sofa, her back arching ever so slightly in a gesture of unconscious surrender. Aniket's touch grew bolder, his lips leaving a trail of fiery kisses along her instep before closing around her toes, his tongue swirling around each one, leaving them glistening with his adoration. Her perfectly pedicured feet, now wet and gleaming under the soft moonlight, seemed to beckon him closer, inviting further exploration. He obliged, his mouth embarking on a slow, deliberate journey up her legs, his tongue tracing the delicate curve of her calf, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. Esha's saree, caught between the cushions, had ridden up, exposing more of her leg than she intended. With a gentle yet firm grip, she caught Aniket's hand as it neared her thigh, a silent signal that he should venture no further, at least not while Kunal remained a captivated audience.

Taking Esha's subtle cue as permission to escalate, Aniket shifted closer, his thigh pressing against hers. Esha, caught in a whirlwind of forbidden pleasure, kept her eyes closed, her breath hitching in her throat with each gasp of anticipation. Aniket, without a single glance towards Kunal, leaned in close, his lips brushing against Esha's ear, nibbling gently on the delicate lobe, sending shivers of delight down her spine. His warm breath danced across her skin as he moved to the nape of her neck, his lips and teeth teasing and tantalizing, eliciting a symphony of moans that escaped her lips. He inhaled deeply, his voice husky with desire as he murmured his appreciation for her intoxicating scent, a fragrance that was uniquely, undeniably Esha.
Despite the intoxicating pleasure that coursed through her veins, Esha held back, a part of her anchored to the reality of their situation. Kunal's presence loomed over them, an invisible barrier that prevented her from fully surrendering to the moment. Her shyness, a delicate dance between longing and restraint, was palpable, a testament to the inner turmoil she was experiencing
Kunal, witnessing the intimate scene unfolding before him, felt a surge of arousal that clashed violently with the turmoil in his heart. His body, betraying his conflicted emotions, responded with a growing erection, a stark reminder of the complex and often contradictory nature of human desire. He was caught in a maelstrom of confusion, his own arousal a jarring counterpoint to the emotional turmoil he was experiencing.
Aniket's exploration continued, his lips tracing a path of fiery kisses from Esha's earlobe down to the delicate curve of her neck, across her flushed cheeks, and finally settling on her shoulders, now partially exposed by the slipping blouse. Her skin, already heated with arousal, was now glistening with Aniket's saliva, a testament to his growing passion. Each touch, each kiss, pushed the boundaries of what Kunal had perhaps envisioned when he first set this dangerous game in motion.
As Aniket's hand boldly ventured towards Esha's breast, she instinctively caught his wrist, her touch a silent plea for him to maintain some semblance of modesty, especially given that the breast he was reaching for was the one furthest from Kunal's line of sight. She opened her eyes slightly, her gaze meeting Aniket's with a mixture of longing and apprehension, silently begging him to understand her discomfort under Kunal's watchful eye.
The erotic scene unfolding before him was pushing Kunal to the edge. His body, betraying his inner turmoil, responded with a surge of arousal, the first hints of pre-cum leaking out, a physical manifestation of his conflicting emotions. Oblivious to Esha's silent protest, Aniket, driven by lust rather than reason, slipped his hand inside her blouse. Esha, acutely aware of Kunal's gaze, quickly adjusted her pallu, attempting to shield their intimate actions from view. But her efforts were in vain; the fabric, stretched thin by its spread, became translucent, offering Kunal an unobstructed view of Aniket's hand caressing his wife's breast. The image seared itself into his mind, a cruel reminder of his own desires and the agonizing reality of the situation he had orchestrated.
As Aniket's lips found the sensitive curve of Esha's lower back, each kiss ignited a wildfire of sensation, sending shivers of pleasure through her core. He could feel her trembling beneath him, the unmistakable sign of her impending climax. Emboldened by the heat of the moment and Kunal's silent observation, Esha reached for Aniket, her eyes half-lidded with desire, pulling him closer. "Take me now," she whispered, her voice husky with need, guiding him to lay her down on the plush sofa.

Aniket leaned in, his gaze holding Esha's. He began with a feather-light touch, his lips brushing against hers in a teasing caress. Esha, her senses heightened, instinctively turned her head slightly, her eyes flickering towards Kunal. Aniket, sensing her hesitation, shifted his angle, his lips finding hers again, this time with a lingering pressure that sent a shiver down her spine. She responded with a subtle tilt of her head, offering him more access, but her eyes remained closed, her expression a mix of surrender and apprehension.
Aniket, fueled by her subtle encouragement, deepened the kiss, his tongue tracing the seam of her lips, seeking entrance. Esha, caught between her desire and the awareness of Kunal's presence, playfully resisted, her lips remaining sealed. Aniket, undeterred, gently coaxed her lips apart with his tongue, his touch a persuasive invitation. Finally, with a soft sigh, Esha yielded, her lips parting, granting him access to the sweet depths within.
Aniket's mouth claimed hers with a hunger he'd been restraining all evening, his tongue delving deep, tasting her, claiming her. Esha, her inhibitions melting away under his passionate assault, responded with equal fervor, her hands finding their way into his hair, pulling him closer. Their tongues entwined in a dance of desire, their bodies pressed together in a symphony of heat and need.
"Aniket's lips trailed down from her mouth, leaving a path of moist kisses along her jawline and down the delicate curve of her neck. He reached her breasts, his lips and tongue dancing over the thin fabric of her blouse, teasing the hardened peaks beneath. Esha's breath hitched in her throat, a soft moan escaping her lips. "Don't... not yet," she whispered, her voice barely audible, a playful tease meant only for his ears. "I want to feel you... over this." Aniket, ever attuned to her desires, complied, his lips and tongue lavishing attention on the fabric-covered mounds. He suckled and teased, his every touch making the thin material cling to her damp skin, her nipples hardening under his ministrations, a sight hidden from Kunal's view. "You're so beautiful," he murmured against her skin, his voice thick with desire. "So responsive..." When he finally lifted his head, he gently adjusted her blouse, smoothing out the fabric with a tender touch, erasing any visible trace of their passionate interlude.

Aniket, his desire now a raging inferno, fumbled with his zipper, his erection straining against the confines of his trousers. He leaned over Esha, his body a furnace of heat, and guided her hand towards his throbbing arousal. "Touch me, Esha," he groaned, his voice raw with need. "Feel how much I want you."
But Esha, in a sudden wave of clarity amidst the haze of passion, pushed his hand away, her body rising from the sofa in a fluid motion. Her saree, disheveled from their passionate encounter, barely concealed her curves, her blouse and bra askew, revealing more than she intended. Her eyes, wild with a mixture of desire and vulnerability, glistened with unshed tears, her kajal smudged, her hair a tousled mess. She looked at Aniket, her voice firm despite the tremor in her words. "Tell Kunal to go to bed," she commanded, her breath catching in her throat. "We're done here."
Aniket, his body still thrumming with unfulfilled desire, protested. "Done? We're just getting started, darling."
You're right, it was a bit too over-the-top. Let me try again, this time with a more subtle and suggestive tone, and with Aniket addressing Kunal before the door closes:
"Come with me, Aniket," Esha commanded, her voice brooking no argument. She grasped his hand, her grip surprisingly firm, and pulled him towards the guest room, her resolve unwavering.
Kunal, his heart a battlefield of conflicting emotions, followed silently, his gaze fixed on the captivating sway of Esha's hips as she led Aniket away. But just as they reached the guest room, Aniket paused, turning his head towards Kunal with a sly grin. "Don't worry, friend," he said, his voice laced with a suggestive undertone. "We'll try to keep it down." And with a wink, he allowed Esha to pull him through the door, which closed with a soft click, leaving Kunal alone with his swirling thoughts and desires.
Aniket's voice, thick with desire and a hint of playful desperation, echoed through the closed door. "Esha," he pleaded, "at least leave the door ajar. Let Kunal have a glimpse of our passion. It's what he desires, isn't it?"
Esha's response, though soft, was firm and unwavering. "This is my boundary, Aniket," she declared, her voice betraying the turmoil within, yet resolute in her decision. "Kunal is not allowed beyond it." Her words were a declaration of her autonomy, a refusal to be a mere pawn in their game. She would explore her desires, but on her own terms, with her own boundaries firmly in place.
Four pegs and two hours into his drinking session, Kunal's senses were swimming in a haze of alcohol. He could register the sounds around him, the muffled murmurs and soft moans that escaped the closed guest room, and his body responded with a primal thrum of arousal. But his mind, clouded by the whisky, was unable to process the implications of what he was witnessing. The lines between right and wrong, harmless and harmful, had blurred into an indistinguishable fog.
The only thought that pierced through the haze was the gut-wrenching feeling of betrayal. He had orchestrated this night, had invited this intimacy between his wife and another man, but now, with the door closed firmly between them, he felt a profound sense of exclusion. He was left in the dark, both literally and metaphorically, his voyeuristic desires thwarted. Esha's last defiant words, "Kunal is not allowed beyond it," echoed in his mind, a stark reminder of his own powerlessness. He strained to hear, but their whispers and moans faded into an indistinct murmur as they moved further into the room, their secrets now hidden from him, a cruel twist of fate in the game he had initiated.
As Kunal approached, he realized the window was indeed ajar. He vaguely remembered opening it that morning to enjoy the fresh air and forgetting to close it later. The curtain, though mostly drawn, offered a sliver of a view into the room. From this narrow vantage point, he could make out Esha's discarded evening blouse lying on the floor, a splash of vibrant color against the muted carpet. He couldn't see much else, but he sensed a presence on the bed, a subtle shift in the shadows that betrayed someone's movements. And then, a soft click reached his ears - the unmistakable sound of the attached bathroom door opening.

"Look what you've done," Kunal heard Esha's voice, laced with a playful scolding. "You've ruined the exquisite panty you gifted me." He imagined her standing there, her body flushed with the afterglow of their passion, a hint of mischief in her eyes.
"Ruined?" Aniket chuckled, his voice thick with amusement. "Darling, you wore it for me. That's hardly a ruin, it's an honor."
"I wore everything for you tonight, Aniket," Esha purred, her voice a silken invitation, a promise of further delights. "Every touch, every kiss... it was all for you."
"Did you really think we'd go through with it tonight?" Kunal heard Aniket's voice, a low rumble of curiosity and barely contained desire that sent a shiver down his spine.
"I wasn't sure," Esha confessed, her voice a breathless whisper, laced with longing and a hint of vulnerability. "But wearing it... it made me feel close to you, even if we couldn't be together the way I craved." Her words hung in the air, a tantalizing promise that made Kunal's heart clench with a mixture of arousal and despair. He imagined her moving closer to Aniket, the air between them thick with anticipation.
A pause followed, punctuated only by the sound of their ragged breathing, and then, the unmistakable sound of a kiss. It started slow, deliberate, a sensual exploration of lips and tongues, the soft moans and gasps echoing through the thin walls. Kunal, his own breath catching in his throat, pictured their bodies entwined, their passion igniting. The kissing grew more urgent, more demanding, the smacking of lips and the soft whimpers creating a symphony of desire that tore at Kunal's soul. Finally, with a lingering, almost obscene smack, their lips parted. "I missed you so much," Esha breathed, her voice trembling with a heady mix of pain, excitement, and longing. "I never thought... we'd be here again."
The soft rustling of clothes filled the air, a symphony of undressing that painted a vivid picture in Kunal's mind. He imagined Esha shedding her garments, her graceful movements a tantalizing dance, each piece falling to the floor with a soft whisper – her panties, Aniket's shirt, his trousers, and finally, the telltale rustle of his discarded underwear. "Oh, Aniket," Esha cooed, her voice thick with adoration, "look at you." Aniket's answering chuckle confirmed exactly what she was admiring, sending a wave of heat through Kunal's own body. "I'm sorry I couldn't touch you back then," she added, her voice playful yet laced with genuine affection.
"But before I lavish my love on you," Esha purred, her voice a seductive melody, "let me give your 'boss' a piece of my mind." Her words, a playful tease aimed at Aniket's arousal, hung in the air, heavy with promise and a hint of mischief.
"Now then, Mr. Aniket," she began, her voice a playful purr that sent shivers down Kunal's spine, "you really should have let me have my way with you back there." She paused, letting the implication hang in the air. "The more I begged you to take it slow, the more you tormented me with those delicious touches." Her words were a sensual scolding, a reminder of how he had ignited her desire under Kunal's watchful eye. "How could you expect me to truly let go, to pleasure you the way you deserve," she continued, her voice dropping to a husky whisper, "with him watching our every move?" Her complaint was laced with a seductive challenge, a playful reprimand that only fueled Aniket's anticipation. "I wanted him gone, Aniket," she confessed, her voice barely above a breath. "Gone so I could have you all to myself, without restraint, without reservation."

"The moment I saw you tonight, Esha," Aniket confessed, his voice a husky growl, "I wanted to rip that stunning saree off your body and devour you right there." He paused, his breath hitching with the memory. "You have no idea the Herculean effort it took to restrain myself, to wait for this moment." His words were punctuated by the sound of their lips crashing together in a hungry kiss, a symphony of moans and gasps echoing through the room. When they finally broke apart, Esha's breath came in ragged gasps. "Then let me show you," she purred, her voice a playful challenge, "just how much I wanted to return the favor."
From his limited vantage point, Kunal could just make out Esha's silhouette kneeling at the corner of the bed. A tense silence followed, broken only by Aniket's soft hisses of pleasure. Then, the unmistakable sounds of Esha's ministrations filled the air - the wet slurping and sucking, the soft moans and sighs, painting a vivid picture of her devotion. "Easy there," Aniket chuckled, his voice laced with playful warning. "Don't get carried away." Esha's answering giggle sent a shiver down Kunal's spine. The sounds intensified, the rhythmic slurping and sucking creating an erotic symphony that filled the room, driving Kunal to the brink of madness. He desperately tried to adjust his position, hoping for even a fleeting glimpse of the scene unfolding before him, but the angle was too restrictive, his view limited to tantalizing shadows and sounds.
"Esha, my love," Aniket groaned, his voice thick with lust and a playful command, "come join me on the bed. I want to watch those exquisite earrings sway as you... pleasure me."
Esha's laughter, light and melodic, filled the room. "Oh, Aniket," she teased, "your imagination knows no bounds." But despite her playful chiding, she complied, the rustle of sheets and the creak of the bed frame signaling their shift to the mattress. Kunal, his heart pounding in his chest, cursed the limited view. With Esha now on the bed, the visual Aniket craved was hidden from him, but the sounds, amplified by the enclosed space, became even more vivid, more tantalizing. The rhythmic slurping and sucking, the soft moans and gasps, were now punctuated by the delicate jingle of Esha's earrings, creating an erotic symphony that tormented Kunal with its forbidden beauty.
For the next ten minutes, the room echoed with the symphony of their passion. Esha's rhythmic slurping and sucking, punctuated by Aniket's groans and gasps, filled the air, creating an erotic tapestry that both tantalized and tormented Kunal. The brief moments of silence, laden with anticipation, only served to heighten the intensity, stretching time into an eternity for Kunal as he struggled to process the scene unfolding just beyond his reach. His own body throbbed with a desperate need for release, the silence from the room amplifying his frustration.
Then, Aniket's voice, rough with desire, shattered the quiet. "Enough," he growled. "Let me take you from behind." The words, raw and primal, were the final trigger for Kunal. He shuddered, his release erupting in a rush of pleasure and pain, a physical manifestation of his conflicted emotions. For a fleeting moment, the orgasm brought a sense of peace, the alcohol numbing the sharp edges of his despair. But the respite was short-lived, as the sounds from the guest room continued, a constant reminder of his exclusion and the reality he had created.
He heard Esha's soft moan, "Gently, Aniket... slowly," as they shifted, their bodies adjusting to the new position. The subtle creak of the bed frame and the rustle of sheets painted a vivid picture in Kunal's mind, fueling his tormented imagination.
Kunal, still leaning against the wall, his senses swimming in a haze of alcohol, struggled to decipher the muffled sounds emanating from the room. The world around him swayed and blurred, his thoughts a chaotic blend of pain, jealousy, and an unwanted arousal that throbbed through his body.
"Gods, Esha," Aniket's voice, a low growl of pleasure, reached Kunal's ears, stirring a storm of emotions he desperately tried to suppress. "You feel so good."
Kunal fought to maintain his focus, the alcohol making everything feel both distant and agonizingly sharp. He pictured them, their bodies entwined, the slow, deep thrusts, the intimate connection that seemed to stretch on endlessly.
"Yes, Aniket... just like that," Esha's voice, breathy and pleading, echoed through the room, each word a sharp pang of betrayal in Kunal's heart.
Kunal, his body aching with a forbidden arousal, felt a sharp pang of jealousy pierce through the haze of his drunken stupor. The pain in his chest mirrored the throbbing in his head, a symphony of discomfort orchestrated by the alcohol and the scene unfolding just beyond his reach.
"Aniket... I'm close," Esha moaned, her voice thick with pleasure, each syllable a sweet torture to Kunal's ears.
"Me too, darling," Aniket groaned in response. But instead of the expected sounds of their climax, there was a pause, a shift in the rhythm of their movements, leaving Kunal suspended in a state of agonizing anticipation.
Then, after a drawn-out gasp from Esha, a sound that spoke of a deep, intimate connection, her voice emerged, playful yet laced with a sensual command. "Aniket," she purred, "let's do your favorite... the Lotus."
The double entendre in Esha's words wasn't lost on Kunal, even through the haze of alcohol. The thought of them shifting to a new position, their passion still burning bright, sent a fresh wave of confusion and torment through him. Esha's sharp intake of breath, a clear indication of Aniket's deep penetration, hit Kunal with the force of a physical blow. The alcohol, once a comforting buffer, now seemed a flimsy shield against the onslaught of sounds and the tumultuous storm of emotions raging within him.
He imagined them now, entwined in the Lotus position, Esha straddling Aniket's lap, her legs wrapped tightly around his waist, their bodies moving in a slow, deliberate dance of passion.
"Slowly, Esha," Aniket groaned, his voice rough with desire. "Feel every inch of me inside you."
I'm going to milk you dry, Aniket," Esha purred, her voice a seductive promise that sent shivers down Kunal's spine. He imagined her hips grinding against Aniket's, their bodies moving in a primal rhythm.
The pace quickened, the slow, deliberate movements escalating into a frenzy of passion. The sounds of their bodies colliding, skin slapping against skin, filled the air, each thrust a sharp pang in Kunal's heart.
"Faster, Aniket," Esha moaned, her voice raw with need. "Fill me with all of you."
The rhythm intensified, the slow grind transforming into a wild, desperate race towards release. The sounds of their coupling grew louder, the headboard banging against the wall, a testament to their unrestrained passion.
"Fuck, Esha," Aniket groaned, his voice strained with pleasure. "You're going to make me explode."
Kunal listened, his senses amplified by the alcohol, the sounds of their lovemaking echoing in his ears with an almost painful clarity. The image of Esha driving Aniket to climax clawed at his mind, shattering the fragile peace he had momentarily found. Their rhythm was now frantic, desperate, their gasps and moans filling the room, a symphony of unrestrained passion that made Kunal's blood run cold.
Suddenly, Esha's voice, laced with surprise and a hint of wonder, pierced through the haze. "Oh god, Aniket!" she gasped. "I didn't know... I didn't know I could..."
Aniket's voice, low and soothing, washed over her. "It's alright, my love," he murmured. "Just let it happen. Happy birthday, Esha. This is your night."
The sound of Esha's sudden, involuntary release, mingling with Aniket's words of encouragement, sent another shockwave through Kunal's body, triggering a second, unexpected climax. He closed his eyes, his body trembling with a mixture of shame, arousal, and a profound sense of helplessness.
A moment later, Esha's voice, laced with a flustered embarrassment, broke the silence. "Oh" she exclaimed, "I've made such a mess... the bed, you... everything."
"Don't worry about it" Aniket soothed, his voice gentle and reassuring. "It's perfectly natural. We'll change the sheets."
Kunal, his mind reeling from this unexpected turn of events, listened to the hurried rustling of sheets, the soft whispers and giggles as they cleaned up the evidence of their passion. Then, Esha's voice, playful yet undeniably seductive, cut through the air. "Come on, Aniket," she purred. "Let's have a quick shower together."
The soft click of the bathroom door echoed through the room, confirming their departure. A heavy silence descended, broken only by the occasional drip of water from the showerhead and the muffled murmurs of their intimate conversation. Kunal, his mind still reeling, remained frozen in place, his body a battlefield of conflicting emotions.
Finally, the bathroom door creaked open again, signaling their return. Esha's voice, playful and laced with a seductive promise, broke the silence. "Come on, Aniket," she purred. "I will make you take some rest. you have a long night ahead of us."
Aniket's low chuckle rumbled through the room, a sound that sent a shiver down Kunal's spine. "Indeed" he replied, his voice husky with desire. "We've only just begun."

Kunal, feeling exhausted, his pants soaked from his own release, decided he couldn't take any more. With a heavy heart and a muddled mind, he staggered away from the door towards their bedroom, seeking the oblivion of sleep to escape the night's revelations.


When Kunal stumbled back into his room, a heavy sense of loneliness washed over him. The betrayal he felt was like a physical weight, his own idea to watch Esha with Aniket on her birthday now seeming like a monumental mistake. Guilt gnawed at him, knowing he had set this night in motion, yet there was an undeniable arousal from the intensity of what had transpired, an event that was morally wrong but had given Esha a moment of beauty, of something intense and intimate. The jealousy was there, biting and sharp, but Kunal was too exhausted to sort through his feelings, too tired to judge or even process the night's events. The room spun slightly from the alcohol, and the emotional drain made his body feel heavy. With these conflicting emotions swirling in his mind, Kunal collapsed onto the bed, the sheets cool against his skin, and he drifted into a deep, troubled sleep.


Next Kunal found himself awake after sleep, the darkness of the room still encompassing him, signaling that the sun had yet to rise. As he opened his eyes, a sharp headache assaulted him, the remnants of a hangover making his head throb with each heartbeat. He shut his eyes again, seeking refuge from the pain, but sleep eluded him now. His stomach churned with a strange, fluttering sensation, a mix of nausea and an inexplicable excitement, the kind that knots your insides with anticipation. He felt an unusual stiffness in his penis, not quite an erection but a persistent reminder of the arousal that had plagued him earlier. The alcohol's fog had lifted from his mind, leaving behind a clarity that was both a curse and a blessing. In this moment, the darkness of the room seemed to mirror the turmoil in his heart, the betrayal and jealousy now clearer, more poignant, than when he had collapsed into troubled sleep.
Kunal could now imagine with stark clarity how beautiful Esha had looked. The celebration of her birthday on the balcony played back in his mind like a film reel; he saw Esha, her silhouette in the moonlight, as she shifted from her chair to sit beside Aniket on the couch. He remembered the events up until his third peg with crystal clarity—the laughter, the chatter, the tension in the air. But after that, the memories blurred into scenes rather than specific words, a montage of emotions and sensations.

He saw Aniket savoring Esha's body in front of him, the way his hands had explored her with a familiarity that stung Kunal's heart. He remembered Esha leading Aniket to the guestroom, her movements fluid and confident, her eyes burning with a desire that made her look like a lioness in heat. When the door closed, the soft moans that followed were like whispers of betrayal, yet they held a melody of pleasure he'd never known Esha to express with him.

In the half-light of his memory, he heard Esha's sexy whispers, the rhythmic creaking of the bed, sounds of their lovemaking that were both alien and intimate. And then, that moment when Esha's voice broke into a new dimension, a sound of pure ecstasy as she squirted, something Kunal had never witnessed in their seven years of marriage. These thoughts, this vivid replay, pulled him into a half-dream state where reality and fantasy blurred.

As these images and sounds replayed, the mild stiffness in his penis transformed into a full erection, his body responding to the complex mix of emotions—jealousy, arousal, betrayal, and a deep, haunting longing for the woman he still loved, now seen in a light that both captivated and tore at him.


A jolt of awareness suddenly surged through Kunal, pulling him from the depths of his drunken slumber. He sat up in bed, his heart pounding, the clock on the nightstand flashing 10 minutes to 5 AM. An inexplicable urge propelled him towards the guest room. The door was still closed, an eerie silence emanating from within. The lack of any sound, any indication of life, made the quiet seem almost ominous. He moved towards the balcony, drawn to the guest room window where he had unwillingly witnessed his wife's intimacy just hours before.
The window remained ajar, the curtain still partially open. Through the narrow gap, he could make out the darkness of the room, punctuated by the soft glow of the bedside lamp, a detail from the night before seared into his memory. He stood there for a moment, his breath catching in his throat, straining to hear any sound from within. But there was nothing but an almost imperceptible rhythm of breathing, a soft rise and fall that hinted at slumber. Just as he was about to turn away, a sound pierced the silence:

A soft gasp, barely audible yet charged with anticipation, escaped the room.
Then, a delicate cry, a mixture of pain and pleasure that sent a shiver down Kunal's spine.
"Aniket..." Esha's voice, breathy and laced with a delicious agony, reached his ears. "You're marking me..."
A tense silence followed, the air thick with unspoken desires and forbidden pleasures.
Then, a sharper cry, a playful protest that ignited a fire in Kunal's loins. "Ouch! That's going to leave a mark," Esha exclaimed, her voice laced with a thrilling mix of pain and ecstasy. The distinct sound of a firm smack echoed through the room, sending Kunal's imagination into overdrive.
"I've claimed you now, Esha," Aniket growled, his voice thick with possessive desire.
Kunal, his heart pounding in his chest, realized what was happening. Aniket was marking Esha, branding her with his passion, leaving his indelible mark on her body. He imagined those dark hickeys blooming on her breasts, a testament to their night of forbidden pleasure.
"Aniket, please," Esha whispered, her voice a sultry blend of urgency and arousal. "You need to go before he wakes up."
Then, her voice dropped to a seductive purr, laced with a playful tease. "Oh my god," she breathed. "I've lost count... you've completely outdone yourself."
"Five times," Aniket confirmed, his voice husky with exhaustion and satisfaction. "Five glorious times."

Kunal stood frozen, the realization of what had transpired, what was still transpiring, crashing over him like a wave. His erection had waned, replaced by a heaviness in his chest, the betrayal now not just a memory from the night before but a continuing nightmare that was unfolding in real-time.

He returned to his room, his mind a chaotic mix of pain, arousal waning, and astonishment at discovering Esha's hidden libido, at how he had never really tried to explore this side of her. With these thoughts swirling and the hangover still clinging to him, he went into the bathroom for a moment of solitary release. But even as he masturbated, the act was tinged with sorrow rather than satisfaction. After washing up, he returned to bed, the emotional and physical exhaustion pulling him back into a troubled sleep.

 (To be continued.......)

[Rocky Rakesh]

Awesome updates.

Kunal should now gracefully divorce Esha and move out of her life with her son after knowing he is not a kind of man she needs. The love birds can unite and Esha gets pregnant by Ankit.

[Sarran Raj]

Now that esha has fallen in love with ankit, i dont think kunal deserves a place in her life anymore.
ankit has brought the bitch out of esha and she cannot sleep without him.

[Manikandarajesh]

Going great

[Bigil]

Enough of love, Kunal does not worth anything. He is a wimp.
Let Ankit humiliate kunal by treating esha like his slut.
Calling her names, make her do whatever he says. Show what a real slut should do.

[a2011]

great start...

[Rangabaashyam]

OMG this poor husband leaked in his pants hearing the moans of his wife.

Good that priya had made kunal know about Esha secret life. She should have convinced kunal to divorce her so that her friend can get a good life with Ankit, treating her like his love.

Now Esha is in a condition that she can live without kunal, but not without Ankit.

Waiting to see the separation happens soon.

The facilitator is priya who brought Esha and Ankit together and remove kunal from Esha life.

Good narration!

[Hotyyhard]

wow what an update

[DeanWinchester00007]

I am new to posting stories, hope some of you would like it. Here is message to readers

1)The story contains theme that might be controversial to some. Readers discretion advised
2) The story might not make sense to few. My apologies to them, but I am posting after lot of reviews and consideration. So I would not change the content.



                                                                Part A


The sun rose over Mumbai, lighting up the city. Esha, 32, looked radiant in the morning light. Her hair, usually up in a bun, was down, making her look less strict. Her eyes showed her drive and love for her family, and her smile could brighten any place.

Esha was in the kitchen making Kunal's favorite masala dosa. The sizzling sound of cooking filled the air. Kunal watched her with his glasses crooked. The kitchen was her domain where she showed her love through cooking. She moved easily in her cream sari, setting out ingredients like rice flour and spices.

She soaked the grains, chopped onions, and mixed her special spices, the kitchen filling with the sound and smell of cooking.

Kunal carefully set the table, placing everything just right. Aditya helped by setting out forks, happy to be part of the routine.

"Can I help, Mumma?" Aditya asked, his eyes bright.

"Of course," Esha said, lifting him up to stir the batter. He beamed with pride, making Kunal laugh.

Esha cooked the dosa on the hot pan, spreading the batter thin. Kunal watched, not just the dosa but how lovingly she cooked.

"It smells so good, Mumma!" Aditya said, excited.

"It's all about the taste," Esha replied, letting him smell the spices. He crinkled his nose in delight as Kunal ruffled his hair.

Esha served the dosa, golden and tasty. Kunal poured coffee, its smell adding to the breakfast aroma.

They ate, feeling warm and close as a family. Kunal and Aditya's praise made Esha happy; breakfast was more than just eating, it was their time for stories and laughs.

Kunal told tales of his day, which thrilled Aditya, who listened with wide eyes.

After eating, Esha cleaned up, her thoughts on work. She saw Kunal helping Aditya with homework.

Getting ready for work, she checked on Aditya, now reading. Kunal's smile was a quiet promise of their love.

Esha hugged Aditya, whispered words of encouragement, then kissed Kunal goodbye, their kiss a promise of their life together.



Driving to work, Esha thought about her team, her clients, and her strategies. But mostly, she thought of Kunal and Aditya, who made her mornings special.

Esha walked into the bank, her light green kurti and black trousers reflecting her professionalism. She was excited yet nervous about her new role as a manager, handling a big client like Aniket. She had the potential, everyone agreed, but there was a quiet tension in her ambition, a nervousness about the unknown.

Her office was modest but warm, with a small window letting in light. On her desk, photos of Aditya playing and one with Kunal at a picnic grounded her, reminding her why she excelled.

The day started with her supervisor's words, "He's big, Esha, but I trust you." His confidence was both comforting and challenging. Esha's heart raced with both thrill and pressure.

She dived into preparations, her actions focused, reviewing Aniket's background, understanding his investment needs. Her team saw her earnestness, her questions not just for show but for real learning.

Between meetings, her mind wandered back to the morning with her family, bringing smile on her face.

When dealing with clients, Esha was clear, professional, yet still learning. Her colleagues admired her dedication, her late hours to prepare for Aniket.

As evening approached, Esha reviewed her notes, anticipating Aniket's questions, her dedication personal as well as professional.

Packing up, she felt both accomplished and anxious. Her colleagues' encouragement was a balm to her nerves.

Leaving the bank, her thoughts shifted to home, to Kunal's warmth, Aditya's tales. This new role was more than work; it was proving she could balance her life's many parts.

While returning back home, Esha felt determined. This was her chance to show she could manage, learn, and thrive, even with less experience.


Next day,Aniket walked into the bank like he owned the place. His suit was sharp, his stance confident. He was here for a new portfolio manager since his last one retired.

Esha, in her office, was a mix of excited and nervous. She'd been picked to handle this big client. Her desk was neat, all set for the meeting. She straightened her pink kurti, glancing at her family photo for courage.

When Aniket entered, they were strangers to each other. Esha stood, her handshake professional.

"Welcome, Mr. Aniket," she said, her voice steady but with a hint of nerves.

"Thank you," Aniket replied, his voice formal. He sat down, looking around her office, sizing her up.

Esha introduced herself, explaining her role and the bank's service promise. She was clear but still had that eager-to-please vibe.

Aniket was used to dealing with experienced people, but he seemed to like Esha's fresh approach. He asked questions to see how she'd manage his investments. Esha answered with confidence, though she checked her notes now and then.

"I need someone with new ideas," Aniket stated, his tone neutral. "Why should I choose you?"

Esha took a deep breath. "I focus on what each client really wants," she said, her eyes sincere. "I might not have the years, but I've got dedication and a drive to learn."

They talked about Aniket's financial goals. Esha suggested strategies, her approach thoughtful despite her newness to the role. Aniket listened, his questions were sharp, his interest clear in how she handled the financial talk.

Everything was strictly business. Esha wanted to prove herself, and Aniket was checking if she could handle his company's money. No personal vibes, just work.

When the meeting ended, Aniket stood, his face unreadable. "Let's see how it goes," he said, shaking her hand. "Good approach, Ms. Esha."

"Thanks for this chance, Mr. Aniket. Looking forward to working with you," Esha said, her handshake firm this time, feeling more confident.

Aniket left, and Esha sat back, feeling the weight of what lay ahead but also excited about proving herself in finance.


Next week,Esha had everything ready for her meeting with Aniket, wanting to show how much she'd learned. Her desk was covered with notes and graphs.

Aniket arrived right on time, his handshake firm, his eyes scanning the papers in front of him as he sat down.

"Please, sit," Esha said, her voice calm, her smile professional. She felt more assured since their last talk.

"Thanks," Aniket said, his voice neutral.

Esha jumped into an update on his investments. "I've been watching your portfolio closely. Here's what I've noticed from recent market changes," she said, showing him graphs, highlighting where his money was growing or at risk.

Aniket paid close attention, his questions sharp. "How do you deal with the ups and downs in tech?" he asked, looking at her intently.

"I see the risk in tech, but there's growth in new markets," Esha replied, pointing to a slide. She explained her plan for managing risks while seeking out opportunities, watching his reactions.

They kept it all business. Aniket nodded at her thoroughness, his next questions digging into her strategy. "What's your plan for these risks?" he asked, genuinely curious.

"Spreading your investments into stable sectors when tech dips," Esha said, giving him a list of her ideas.

Aniket looked over her suggestions, his face serious. "Good work," he noted, showing he respected her effort.

They discussed further, Esha quick to respond when Aniket threw in a market shift scenario, suggesting ways to protect his investments, her confidence based on her knowledge.

As the meeting ended, Esha felt proud of how she'd shown her skills. Aniket stood, saying, "Thanks for the insights, Ms. Esha. Excited to see these in action."

Esha shook his hand, professional to the end. "Thank you, Mr. Aniket. I'm all in for your portfolio's success."


Mumbai's evening air was cool as Esha stepped from her car, her saree a perfect mix of tradition and professionalism. The restaurant, chosen for its quiet luxury, was set for a team dinner celebrating a recent win, suggested by Aniket. This wasn't just a party; it was about building better team bonds. Esha saw it as a chance to show her leadership outside the office.

Walking in, she was met with the buzz of chatter and the sound of utensils. Aniket was already there, his presence both authoritative and friendly as he chatted with others. Seeing Esha, he walked over with a warm, professional smile.

"Ms. Esha, glad you could come," Aniket said, his handshake firm.

"Thanks for inviting me, Aniket. Nice place," Esha replied, her smile sincere, her eyes scanning the room.

"I thought it'd be good for us to unwind outside work," Aniket said, gesturing at the crowd. "It's about getting to know each other."

"Absolutely," Esha agreed, appreciating the idea.

They sat down, Esha opposite Aniket, with Priya, a colleague and friend close to her family, on one side, and Vikram from Aniket's team on the other.

"How do you juggle work and family?" Vikram asked, genuinely curious. "I heard you have a little boy."

Esha blushed a bit, not used to personal questions at such events. "It's all about choosing what matters most. Kunal and I make time for Aditya. He loves drawing," she said, her voice warm with pride.

Priya laughed, "She's our role model. Esha works long hours but never misses Aditya's college stuff. Like that art show, remember?"

Esha smiled at the memory, "Yes, and you were there, cheering like crazy."

This made Esha more approachable to Aniket's team. Aniket watched, impressed. "That's impressive," he said, meeting her eyes. "Not many balance work and home like that."

"Thanks," Esha said, smiling at both. "It's teamwork all around."

The talk shifted to their project's success. "It was our joint effort," Esha said, nodding to Aniket. "Your guidance was key."

Aniket raised his glass, "And your ideas changed the game. Here's to more of this."

As dinner went on, personal stories filled the air. Neha shared her travel tales, prompting Esha to talk about their trip to Lonavala. "Seeing it through Aditya's eyes was magical," she said.

"Try Mahabaleshwar next," Aniket suggested, his voice kind. "It's great for families."

"Thanks, I'll think about it," Esha replied, appreciating the suggestion.

Priya added, "Aditya would adore it there. He's a nature lover, like his mom."

The night was a blend of work and personal life. Esha admired how Aniket made everyone feel important, a leadership trait she wanted to learn. With Priya there, the dinner felt like a friendly gathering.

Priya, always upbeat, asked, "How do you stay so calm under pressure?"

Esha laughed, easing the atmosphere, "It's all practice, and knowing it's for my family."

Aniket added thoughtfully, "Strong personal values make the best leaders."

Esha felt a mix of professional respect and personal recognition. "I believe in that balance," she said, her eyes meeting his in thanks.

Over dessert, Esha shared a funny story about Aditya's cooking attempts, sparking laughter and more stories. Priya chimed in, "He's a chef in the making, right?" making Esha laugh with joy.

That moment, Esha and Aniket laughed together, their professional barriers slightly lowered.

As the dinner ended, Aniket pulled Esha aside. "You did great tonight. It's about more than numbers; it's about people. I respect that."

Esha looked at him, her professionalism intact but with a new warmth. "Thank you, Aniket. People are just as important as profits."

The evening wrapped up with handshakes and farewells.

Bro the story is so very well written and erotic . And i appreciate that its your story You own this , We can only comment on the story . But the thing I disagree with Your portrayal of Priya as Feminist , Priya is crappy character because of her circumstances and shitty upbringing please dont pin it on Feminism . There is difference between Sexual liberation of women , their choice to sleep with any number of partner  and downright cheating on your Spouse Cheating is cheating , Male or female . Your depiction of Priya who manipulated a happy wife , created scenario and  planned and forced her friend to cheat on her husband because she is feminist is just plain wrong rather it should be her shit upbringing and how she doesnt have any sense of honor, love , and sacrifice . She does not understand what a healthy marriage is because all the abuse she saw , how her mother suffered . So she saw Esha struggle and compare it with her mother's situation . She is kinda toxic women and friend . Her thinking that she is playing some kind of messiah role for Esha and thinking that helping Esha to bang some a guy or getting love birds together will bring some kind of relief and Esha so called finding herself , new her , by getting railed by some guy she just met will be so liberating for both of women.    So she is devoid of any good qualities ..( Just an opinion , not comment on your art of writing)
And please dont make husband some whimpy pathetic cuck , That would make story so generic . The same old troupe . A husband is normal and successful , married to beautiful wife and having peaceful life . Suddenly stud appear bang wife , make husband whimpy cuck . Wife get pregnant , Husband is happy to raise another man child . Why the husband always weak and pathetic Like they dont have any brain left They can marry the beautiful and have the best job in world , financial secure but then behave like meek ? Just throw something for husband to make story at least balancing . Again just a comment as reader nothing to do with your art .

[Harry Jordan]

Damn......this is truely an awesome story!

[Harry Jordan]

So when is the next update coming?

[anushka]

When can we expect next update ??

Give us 31st ka bonus.. By giving a very big update