Adultery Knowing My Wife, Knowing Me As Well - part III (Completed)

[Sana4891]

I have read a story Cuckold: A Mistake ...is anyone here who can continue that story... that's one of the best stpry that i have read..if You guys have read that...then rply to me what u think can happen in that continuation....i just love shilpa character and Riyas Nad her Bf RAJ

[Sana4891]

Relax guys...He might be trying to fit the story in parts. Give him time and have patience.

I like your analysis of this story in a comment .can you dk the same for a story y devteen called CUCKOLD A BIG MISTAKE?

[RCF]

I like your analysis of this story in a comment .can you dk the same for a story y devteen called CUCKOLD A BIG MISTAKE?

Thank you..this story is emotional roller coaster. Will be away from here for a while from this site. I will read it in future though live comments is always fun than to share opinion on a dormant story.

[bineeshm]

Relax guys...He might be trying to fit the story in parts. Give him time and have patience.

Krish said will not take more than 2 hours but its already past 3 hours. So wondering if all is right on his side. He shouldn't have a breakdown at this time due to the pressure from readers.

[Speedy21]

Relax guys...He might be trying to fit the story in parts. Give him time and have patience.

It's Sunday I just skip the cricket match for this story ending man

[Dingustory]

My whole Sunday is loss I have a meeting.
I avoid that made many reasons for this story.
What going to get Krish for make waiting all here.just
Say when you going to update.

[RCF]

It's Sunday I just skip the cricket match for this story ending man

I know every one waiting here but our frustration should not be the reason for rushing the ending. Its OK if we wait some more time. When he is ready he will post it, Am multi tasking by watching series on Netflix.

[lambalaunda2020]

Waiting since morning and still waiting till 1:30 after match started then there is nothing in this whole World for which I can escape King Kohli's Batting

[abhinay67]

Waiting since morning and still waiting till 1:30 after match started then there is nothing in this whole World for which I can escape King Kohli's Batting

With the way king Kohli is battling nowadays ,you will be back on the forum waiting sooner than you think

[lambalaunda2020]

With the way king Kohli is battling nowadays ,you will be back on the forum waiting sooner than you think

Haa haaa   let's see finger Crossed ?

[Vishal Ramana]

Let krish die in cardiac arrest while his wife is busy fucking with susheel.

[Paty@123]

Let krish die in cardiac arrest while his wife is busy fucking with susheel.

Plz don't go into frustration and donot make such comments on writer, I can understand your enthusiasm to read the final part at the earliest. I am also facing the same thing,  every fifteen minutes, opening the site and searching for update. I can understand writer must be in tremendous pressure,  parden him for not maintaining  the time promised

[Harry Jordan]

I humbly request all readers to please be patient and don't jump into conclusion. The final chapter will come in its desired time and as per how the Author completes it. As a fellow writers myself now , I can understand the delays. I too suffered from a writer's block for a week when I started my story. Sometimes things can happen , let him take his time , I know a lot of you are looking for the ending of the story , I am also a part of you in that. But please be patient , the ending will come , be brave and wait for the best experience.

[Dingustory]

Krish are ok say something.
What happened.
I Think you Start to final chapter 9 am

[opheliyaa]

Author seems to be playing like CSK, taking the easy match till last over.

[krish_999]

Chapter 51

 

My heart raced as I welcomed Desai inside, pushing aside my apprehensions. He stepped forward with open arms, giving me a warm hug.

"How are you, bro?" His friendly voice helped ease my tension.
"Everything's fine," I managed to keep my voice steady.
Meera came forward to greet Desai, and she again drew Desai's undivided attention immediately. His smile broadened as he extended his hand, and their fingers intertwined in a handshake that lasted a heartbeat too long.
"How was the flight, Susheel?" Meera's voice carried s sense of nervousness and I couldn't help but wonder if Desai would attrib ute it to her excitement of meeting him.
"It was nice," Desai replied, his eyes never leaving her face. "Except this time, it felt longer."
Meera smiled at his subtle hint of his eagerness to reach here, to meet her.
 
I invited Desai to the living while clearing my throat, "we haven't made lavish arrangements for the anniversary, but I hope we'll have a memorable evening together. It's... just us. Perhaps the last celebration Meera and I will share."
I threw a glance at Meera's face as I spoke. Her eyes were fixed at Desai.
"You're being humble Krish," Desai said as he surveyed the room before turning to me. "The moment you invited me, you redefined the meaning of lavishness."
He thanked me again for inviting me. I forced a smile.
"It's okay to dress in formals... The suit looks sharp on you," I said, "but there's no need for such formality."
Desai glanced between us and smiled, though he appeared slightly nervous. "I chose to try to dress well... you know, I don't want anyone to change their mind at the last moment."
Meera smiled, "that's clever," she said. "Good looks are always on my checklist."
Her earlier nervousness seemed to melt away as Desai settled onto the couch. She disappeared into the kitchen, returning moments later carrying a crystal glass of water on a silver tray.
"Funny, I was just about to ask for water," Desai admitted. His gaze followed her movements as she served him, and I noticed how their eyes met; and stayed there a little longer than usual.
"It's not helping," he confessed quietly, "that I keep wondering if I'm good enough. This feels awkwardly strange." And he went on to express his admiration for her with a compliment. "You look absolutely stunning in this saree – like a gorgeous bride."
Meera's smile widened. "And you've come in a suit! Look nothing short of a groom."
She threw a quick glance at me before continuing, "I'm not sure what Krish might have told you, Susheel, but the way you're looking at me and the nervousness you're carrying give me a hint of what you might be expecting tonight."
"I'm nervous, yes," Desai acknowledged quickly, "because of the situation Krish has created for me."
He smiled at me before adding, "You know, Meera, this is the first time I've looked at a woman, met her eyes, and pictured her as a lifelong partner."
Meera froze, redness rising in her cheeks. "Oh my God, you're making me nervous too."
The embarrassment in her eyes was unmistakable as she stood speechless.
The situation was getting slightly awkward as they both said nothing, as if they didn't know what to say, and I seized the moment to intervene.
"Before this turns awkward, how about we start with a drink?" I suggested.
"Excellent idea," Desai said, and then turned to me. "I brought something special for making a cocktail – I thought it would be perfect for an occasion like this. With both of your permission, I'll mix it myself."
We agreed without hesitation.
Desai opened his luggage and took out a bottle of white rum.
"Exploring new hobbies, Susheel?" Meera asked.
"Not many," he said. "I learned about this only recently. I'm still not an expert, to be honest."
"No problem, we’ll help you," I said. "Consider yourself home – more at home than you've ever been here."
Meera gave me a quick glance, a hint of question in her eyes, but I gestured for her to stay calm.
 
We went to the kitchen to make the cocktail. Desai walked in front with the bottle. I asked him if he had picked it up from the Pune airport.
"No, Pune airport has nothing," Desai replied. "So I brought it from Mumbai."
"What do you need for the cocktail, Susheel?" Meera asked him.
"I’m afraid I might need your entire kitchen," Desai quipped, looking around.
"I’m relieved you didn’t ask for my bedroom," Meera retorted.
Her reply made both men laugh. I stepped closer to Meera shortly after. "He'll definitely ask for it later," I whispered.
Meera made a face at me.
 
In the kitchen, I helped Desai find a large glass and shaker. Meera helped by cutting lemon, strawberry, and peppermint and providing strawberry syrup.
As we all got engaged in the cocktail-making, it helped break the ice. Meera's nervousness about welcoming Desai melted away during the process, and by the time it was done, she was talking and smiling without any tension. I also noticed Meera and Desai having a small chat while she stood next to him, squeezing lemon into a bowl. Meera mentioned that his suit didn’t quite suit working in a kitchen. Desai responded that her gorgeous saree didn’t suit kitchen work either. They laughed together and looked at me.
"Neither do mine," I said.
"But you deserve it, because you wanted me to wear the saree," Meera replied.
"It seems Krish is doing more for me than you," Desai said.
Meera spoke about my good nature, detailing how it was my decision to part ways with her. She explained that I thought our living together would only cause her pain, as my fantasies weren’t going to stop. She said that, literally, I had been pushing her out of my life so she would choose Desai.
 
After the entertaining cocktail preparation, we returned to the hall and arranged the drinks and snacks on the centre table. We all chose to sit on different couches and then toasted.
Desai toasted first, “for the 10th anniversary of Meera and Krish.”
I followed him, “to a great future for Meera's friendship with Desai.”
Meera raised her glass and paused for a moment to look at me and then spoke, “to the friendship between you and Susheel… and also to you for being a wonderful husband.”
I think I enjoyed her words. And I loved how the cocktail tasted.
“Perfect.” I praised. “Expertly crafted.”
"Don't encourage him too much," Meera laughed. "He might start a cocktail empire next!"
"And I’ll have you as my partner in that," Desai responded.
 
After the first sip, Desai asked me to say who she would choose between us to exchange her glass with.
Meera said she would choose me.
Desai shook his head understandingly and remarked that her heart is still beating for her husband.
“I can see that in your eyes. But I want to assure you that I am not going to be offended if you go on to express it because I know how tough this night is going to be for you. Meera, I am in this only because you both chose to accept me. I should be grateful. There is nothing in this world that can offend me tonight because I am that happy, Meera. This is my night. A night that begins another phase of my life. You won’t believe me if I tell you how nervous I am. My fingers are shivering, my palms are sweating. I doubt it would help me get better even if you kissed me.”
After Desai spoke about his nervousness, I asked Meera to sit with him.
Meera shifted to his couch and sat next to Desai. She slowly placed her left palm over his right hand, and then offered her glass to him. Desai took her glass and handed his glass to her. After that, they both looked into each other's eyes and took a sip from their glasses.
I watched on, perceiving it as a moment when Desai attempted his advance towards her for the first time that night, and he did it successfully.
“This is cheeky stuff, actually,” Meera said after taking a sip and placing the glass down.
“Sometimes the cheeky stuff is fun,” Desai admitted.
“Krish is full of such stuff. I think you’ve learned it from him,” Meera said.
“I’ve learned from him more than he would have learned from me,” I said.
“It’s debatable stuff,” Desai said.
 
The chat went on for some time, and at one point, Desai mentioned that 23 days had passed since he had met Meera. The last time it had been 39 days, but his hunger to meet her was greater during these 23 days.
I said, "Well, you should wait for another day," and then quickly checked the clock and corrected myself, saying, "There are just a few hours left for today to pass."
Desai smiled, nodded at me, then looked at Meera.
"Yeah, just a few hours, Meera. Then I will be what you want. Krish told me to treat you like a queen. I wonder how you're going to treat me. Your king or a servant?"
Meera's eyes widened at his remark, and she looked at me before answering Desai.
"Who do you want to be, Mr. Susheel?"
Desai said he would like to be half king and half slave, case-to-case basis.
Meera laughed at his response. Desai and I joined in her laughter.
"I can see where you're heading, Mr. Romeo," Meera said. "I wonder how you remain patient during the long stretches of no intimacy."
Desai said, "That part of the credit goes to Krish's secretary."
I was surprised.
"What do you mean?" I asked.
Desai didn't hesitate. "You know how I ended up doing it with your assistant, mmm…" he paused to recollect her name, "…Nidhi Sadashiv, during those frustrating days. I thought being with someone else would help me get over my thoughts of Meera. Honestly, I just wanted to move on from her. But it didn't help at all."
"You had met her again after you confessed to us about it, didn't you?" Meera asked casually.
I was stunned to hear that. My glance at Meera ensured she noticed my reaction. She subtly gestured that she would explain later.
"Yeah, I had met her again," Desai admitted. "I felt bad when I realized that I cannot move on from you unless we talked things out. So, I met Nidhi… you know, to seek forgiveness. I thought her anger would make me feel better because she had every right to be angry. But she wasn't angry. In fact, she was very friendly. I didn't want to reveal this to Krish, but since we're talking about it – she was ready to see me again if I wanted. You know…"
I was stunned. Memories flashed in my head about Nidhi's excitement whenever Desai's name came up in our conversations, her subtle reactions, her arousal masked under casual remarks. She had indeed been excited, even aroused, by thoughts of Desai because of the pleasure he'd given her. So much so that she'd been willing to make love on the same bed where Desai had been with another woman.
 
For a moment, I wondered whether it was me or Desai – or maybe even the idea of Desai – that she was attracted to. I couldn't find an answer immediately. Perhaps I didn't want to. Maybe the fear of that answer was enough to shake my confidence.
 
The first round of drinks was over. Desai stood up. "I'll make another round."
As he walked to the kitchen, I turned to Meera.
“How did you know Desai had met Nidhi after that?”
“I had met her… two three times after Desai confessed what he did. She was kinda feeling softer about him. I mean every time I met him, she was feeling softer than previous time. Eventually I stopped meeting her.” Meera said.
“Why? You feared she will eventually fall for him?” I joked.
“Come on!” She laughed too. Then she added, “but I felt it’s not a good idea to make her remember him. My meetings with her were doing that, I guess.”
“Good to know you ladies were discussing Desai behind my back.” I said.
“I’ve done much worse behind your back.” She hit back.
I laughed, “Yeah.”
 
I suggested her to go to kitchen and help Desai.
"Why? You go and help him," Meera retorted.
"Come on," I insisted with a smirk. "He's your would-be, isn't he?"
Meera got up, walked over, and playfully pinched my cheek. "He's not my would-be, you rascal!"
She began to walk to the kitchen, but I grabbed her hand.
"Meera, you promised something. Don't play your games tonight. He came for you."
Meera stared at me for a moment, then nodded. "Yeah, I know."
I stood up, turned her to face me, and gently squeezed her shoulders, letting my gaze travel across her face and down her figure.
"Meera, tonight I'm the host. You and Desai are literally my guests. Got it?"
Meera's expression softened. "Got it."
 
After Meera went to the kitchen, I settled back on the couch, letting the comfort of the drink ease into me. From the kitchen, I soon heard the soft murmur of their voices, followed by bursts of giggles. It felt like the night was proceeding just as I had hoped.
A little later, Meera's laughter echoed louder, filling the apartment with a warmth I hadn't heard from her in days. When they returned to the hall with fresh drinks, I couldn't help but ask, "What's the joke?"
Meera, still chuckling, nudged Desai. "Go on, Susheel. Tell him."
Desai grinned, shaking his head slightly as if embarrassed, but indulged. "Well, it's about this one time long ago – I was at a supermarket, and I picked up a large cucumber. There was this woman nearby, and she gave me this… suspicious look. I kept glancing between her face and the cucumber, trying to figure out what was so amusing. Finally, out of sheer panic, I blurted out, 'I'm unmarried'."
Meera burst into laughter again, almost spilling her drink. "I still can't believe that actually happened! I bet you just made that up after spotting the extra-large cucumber in my kitchen." She said. "But it's hilarious to imagine you in that situation – especially considering how you think of yourself as… well, you know, well-endowed."
Desai gave her a smirk, "I think of myself as so? Just me only?"
Meera gave him a sheepish smile, and she averted her eyes to look around the room as if she didn't hear him.
"Tell me," Desai insisted.
"Yeah, me too. Romeo," Meera said and laughed again.
"Yeah, size matters," I quipped. "At least now you can admit that I am doing the right thing."
Meera made an angry face at me. "Moron. You are such a moron, you know that?"
"Don’t call him a moron. Please," Desai said, throwing a quick glance at me before continuing. "You know, I’ve always found his acceptance of the idea of being cuckolded remarkable. Of course, there must have been moments of struggle, but he never saw me as an enemy trying to creep into his bedroom."
"Really?" Meera’s eyes sparkled with mischief. "You wouldn’t say that if you remembered those days. Didn’t you try to trick him with fifty lakh rupees once?"
Desai chuckled, waving away the past. "That was the old me. Let’s talk about the new me."
Meera laughed. "Yeah, it’s the new you..." She paused, leaving the sentence hanging.
"Continue," Desai prompted, leaning closer. "You were about to praise me, weren’t you?"
"Haha," Meera laughed but didn’t elaborate. "You knew I was about to praise you. Isn’t that enough?"
"I think if you’re not going to tell me now, then you must be saving it for later... for a special moment."
A playful smile danced on Meera’s lips. She seemed to be deliberately holding back, her eyes flickering with glances that made me believe she was flirting.
"There won’t be any special moments tonight," she said softly.
"I didn’t come for any special moment," Desai countered.
"I doubt that," Meera replied quickly.
"Why?" Desai pressed.
"Never mind." Meera said. And then quickly added, "Well, I'd tell you it just won’t happen."
"Oh. Okay. Is there any specific reason?"
"Probably to hurt you."
"Must be a sadist."
"Won’t fall for it." She was smiling now.
"Come on, I can see you want to talk, honey."
Eventually, Meera spoke. "Because I know how you were on that day, after that... 39-day gap. And now, though it’s only been 23 days, you’ve already told me you missed me more than ever."
She was now looking straight into his eyes, as if trying to catch even the slightest reaction. Perhaps she wanted him to admit that he had become desperate for her, like hell.
 
I, watching from the side-lines, felt a strange mixture of emotions. No matter what they discussed, I sensed they were inevitably going to sleep together, going to have a wild reunion. I struggled to keep my mind from dwelling on the images of them waving me goodnight together. But I still found a sense of peace holding me back in my seat, rooted in the belief that it was all part of a decision I had made for Meera.
 
I laughed and then shook my head. "Well, I’m just glad to see you enjoying the night, Meera. You’ve had a rough time these past few days. It feels good to see you happy again."
She glanced at me briefly, her smile softening.
“Fun talks aside, let me ask you something, Meera. Are you still struggling to see me in your life?” Desai asked after a few moments.
Meera looked at him and took a deep breath before speaking.
"I agreed to see you, Desai," she began softly, "but I never said I was ready for commitment. You know, there are so many things that come with it. I’m not trying to set conditions, but I’m not in the right mental state to figure out what’s good or bad for me right now. Krish is leaving... and I don’t know how I’m going to cope with that. It’s one thing to imagine getting divorced, but it’s another thing to actually go through it."
She paused, her eyes flickering with the weight of her emotions.
"I don’t know how long I’ll cry. Even if you see me laughing or calm around you, inside, I’ll still be crying. I don’t have much control over myself these days. When Krish said we should separate, the only future I could imagine was one where I wouldn’t see another man after him. My love isn’t like a switch. I can’t just turn it off for him and turn it on for you."
She took another deep breath, her eyes meeting his with a vulnerability I had seen many times over the past few weeks.
"So, I want you to understand that it will take time for me to even consider looking at you that way. But yes," she added softly, "I’m committed to you, to accompanying you on the trip tomorrow."
Desai listened intently, nodding as if he had anticipated this, his expression gentle.
"I understand, Meera. Your stand doesn’t surprise me," he said. "I’ll always be a friend to you, and whatever comes beyond that will be a bonus. I’d love to hold your hand, but it doesn’t mean I want to drag you anywhere you don’t want to be. I’d rather hold your hand and be wherever you want us to be."
He paused, looking at her with deep sincerity.
"You’re a special person, Meera. Both you and Krish, actually. I wasn’t looking to settle down with anyone, but now... I just want to be grateful to you for what you’ve helped me become. There’s no one else in this world to whom I owe more gratitude than you. That’s what brings me back to you."
His voice softened, and for a moment, there was a distant longing in his eyes.
"And yes, even if it’s a distant possibility, I have to admit… if my heart beats for someone, I can’t ignore it. I have to admit that it beats for someone."
 
As Desai spoke, he slowly reached out and took Meera’s hand, bringing it gently to his lips. He smiled at her, pressing a soft kiss to the back of her palm. Meera smiled back, her hand remaining in his. There was a subtle shift in the air, and I could feel her beginning to soften toward him, her defences gradually melting.
I watched, amazed at how their conversation was unfolding. At the start, Meera had made it clear that there was no chance of them being together. But by the end, her gaze lingered on Desai more, her eye contact deepening, as if silently acknowledging the sincerity of his affection. It was clear to me now that, despite her words, something in her was responding to him.
 
Desai, despite his initial nervousness, was steadily making his moves, flirting with her in a way that felt both genuine and playful. Yet, as I observed them, I couldn't shake the feeling that Meera’s gestures – her small smiles and lingering glances – were still rooted in something else. A part of her was still reaching out to me, even in this moment with Desai.
I couldn’t help but feel that her lingering affection for me, in some twisted way, was arousing Desai. I knew he would want to pursue her feelings, take her to bed before the night ended, and fuck her hard. I even sensed that the sex – the pleasure he could give her – would draw her closer to him, and eventually, she would submit to him, just like before.
The thought hit me hard, and I got up from the couch, not wanting to stay in the moment any longer. I stumbled over to the music system and turned on a song in an attempt to settle my thoughts.
 
The rum cocktail made my head feel light, but it helped me maintain a semblance of self-control. It was strange, but in a way, it made things feel more bearable. I could sense that Meera was carrying on with the night as if a part of her was ready to let go, to release the tension between us. The separation, I thought, wouldn’t be as painful as I had expected. Perhaps, in the end, it would be easier than I had imagined.
 
Desai suggested we take some pictures, and we agreed. First, Desai and Meera posed together, and I took photos with Meera’s phone. I noticed Desai casually putting his arm around her waist. To be honest, they looked perfect as a couple. Despite being fifteen years older than her, Desai, with his perfectly fit physique and sharp dressing sense, matched her divine beauty with his masculine confidence.
Desai looked at Meera, admiration clear in his eyes. "You look stunning in this saree," he said. "It’s already on my list of your best looks."
Meera smiled, tilting her head slightly. "What about the dress you mentioned earlier? You said you brought something for me. I want to see it."
That caught my attention. "What dress?" I asked, glancing between them.
Meera turned to me. "While we were making that second drink, Desai told me he had brought a dress for me. But after seeing me in this saree, he decided against asking me to change."
I smirked. "Well, it took a lot of convincing to get her to wear this saree tonight." Then, looking at Desai, I added, "But now I’m curious – what dress did you bring?"
Meera nodded in agreement. "Yeah, let’s see it. Open your luggage."
Desai chuckled. "I’ll show you, but on one condition – you have to wear it."
Meera hesitated, then spoke with a fake seriousness. "I’m not putting on anything fancy. This is not your fantasy night."
Desai smirked. "You can trust me."
Meera let out a small laugh, shaking her head. "I’ll think about it."
 
When they finished posing for photos, Meera turned to me. "Come on, one with me."
I sighed but stepped forward. As soon as I stood next to her, she grabbed my hand and placed it around her waist. It was subtle, but Desai noticed. I caught the flicker of excitement in his eyes. It felt like he was savouring this moment – watching Meera and me together for one last time, knowing that by the end of the night, she would be his.
 
When we finished, Desai opened his suitcase. Inside, a neatly packed parcel took up nearly half the space. He pulled it out and handed it to Meera.
"I came across this on an online site," he said. "And immediately, you came to my mind."
Meera smirked as she took the package. "What exactly came to your mind?" she teased, carefully un-wrapping the dress.
It was a dark pink and white dress. Meera’s eyes widened slightly, and the way her fingers traced the fabric told me she loved the material.
She held it up against herself. "It’s an off-shoulder midi," she quickly pointed out.
I glanced at the dress. It certainly didn’t have the length to reach her ankles. Desai watched her reaction closely. "So? Will you wear it?" he asked.
Meera hesitated. "It’s beautiful, but… it’s going to be very exposing."
Desai leaned back, studying her. "And what exactly are you wary of?"
She glanced at me, as if looking for reassurance. I liked that she still wanted my opinion, even in this moment. I shrugged. "You have two choices—wear it now or wear it on your trip."
Meera looked at the dress again, then gave Desai a shy smile. "No, I wouldn’t want to do that."
She was talking about the trip. She clearly thought the dress was too revealing.
Then, almost as if looking for an escape, she sighed. "Besides, it’ll take too much effort to remove the saree."
I smirked. "I’m sure Desai would be more than happy to help."
Meera shot me a look. "It was actually him"—she pointed at me—"who helped me put it on."
I noticed Desai’s eyes widen slightly, curiosity flickering across his face. He had assumed Meera and I weren’t that intimate anymore. Maybe now he was rethinking that.
After a pause, Meera exhaled. "Okay. Give me fifteen minutes."
She turned toward the bedroom, but before proceeding, she grabbed a glass from the table and took a sip.
"That’s Desai’s glass," I pointed out.
Meera smirked. "Not anymore."
 
Desai watched her go, clearly entertained by her remark. I could tell he was enjoying the way she teased, the way she was slowly letting herself ease into the night.
As soon as she disappeared into the room, Desai turned to me. "What kind of help did you give her while she was wearing the saree?"
I took a sip of my drink before answering. "I helped her with the bra. Hooked it for her."
Desai burst out laughing, immediately catching on. "Bullshit."
I grinned, then leaned back. "By the way, you never told me how you met Nidhi. You mentioned it earlier."
Desai’s expression shifted slightly. "It was a long time ago, even before the concert night."
I raised an eyebrow. "And yet, you didn’t take advantage of the situation, knowing she might say yes?"
Desai exhaled. "That’s something that surprised me too. Nidhi is beautiful, no doubt. But she didn’t matter to me as much as my memories with Meera did. That was one of the moments I realized just how badly I wanted to get back to her."
I studied him for a moment. "So you were planning to come back to her, even after we shut you out of our lives?"
Desai nodded. "I just knew our paths would cross again. My only prayer was that, when they did, it would be worth cherishing."
I let his words settle in before speaking. "By ‘cherishing,’ do you mean having sex with Meera?"
Desai shook his head. "No. Honestly, I didn’t even think about that – at least, not until I got an opportunity that night at the concert. It just... happened. And when I realized she was within reach, I couldn’t control myself."
I looked at him, my voice steady. "You almost forced yourself on her that night."
Desai met my gaze. "You can say that. But I saw the struggle in her eyes. She might never admit it – not even to herself – but she needed a moment with me. Maybe for a closure. Because the moment we met that night, she knew exactly how much I had longed for her. It is impossible for someone to read another person’s mind if the latter was never on the former’s mind. And maybe, deep down, her subconscious mind had already prepared her to give in – just to free me from that longing." He let out a dry chuckle. "But it didn’t happen. That’s another thing."
I took a slow sip of my drink. "Maybe we never wanted that closure."
 
Before Desai could respond, the bedroom door creaked open.
Meera stepped out, wearing the dress.
It hugged her body perfectly, the fabric clinging to her curves in all the right places. The dark pink and white tones made her skin glow under the dim lights. The off-shoulder cut exposed her collarbones, her smooth skin, and the gentle slope of her shoulders. The dress ended well above her knees, revealing her toned legs, making her look both elegant and dangerously tempting.
Meera tucked her thumbs inside the top edge of the dress, just below her underarms, and tried to pull it up. Perhaps she feared it would slide down off her breasts. There was something in her expression – a mix of confidence and embarrassment, as if she knew exactly how stunning she looked but wasn’t sure how much of herself she was willing to reveal tonight.
 
Desai’s eyes darkened slightly as he welcomed, appreciation written all over his face.
I watched as Meera glanced at me for a fleeting second, then turned to Desai, biting her lower lip. "Well?" she asked.
Desai exhaled, a slow smile forming on his lips. "You look… breathtaking."
Though she appeared shy as she entered the hall, Meera didn’t settle down on the couch. Instead, she stood in front of us, smiling at us alternately, her fingers repeatedly tugging at the edge of her dress as if afraid it might slip. Each time she lifted both hands to adjust it, she unknowingly exposed the smooth curve of her armpits. That’s when I noticed that the back of the dress dipped even lower than I had realized, exposing a generous portion of her back.
She kept pulling the neckline up, a habit born more out of nervousness than necessity. Desai, watching her with amusement, reassured her, “It’s not going to fall off.”
Meera let out a small laugh. “I know… but I still can’t get that fear out of my head.”
Desai tilted his head. “So… do you like the dress?”
Meera pouted her lips playfully, then smiled. “Yes.”
 
She did love it. In all the years I had known her, I had never seen her wear something more revealing than this. Yet, hearing her admit how much she liked it made me wonder – had she secretly wished to wear something like this all along? If that was the case, then Desai certainly knew how to read her mind.
 
Desai grinned. “I’d love to click a few snaps with this hottie.” He handed me his phone, then turned to Meera.
As he approached her, she stood waiting, her body language open. Desai, on the other hand, moved naturally, his hand slipping around her waist as he pulled her close. With effortless ease, he maneuvered behind her, wrapping his arms around her more freely this time, holding her possessively as if she already belonged to him.
I clicked the photos as he guided her into different poses. “Look at me,” I heard him say. As Meera turned to meet his gaze, I couldn’t help but steal a glance at her round ass, the snug dress accentuating its curves perfectly.
 
Desai’s hands were exploratory yet measured – at first resting on her hips, then casually shifting lower to her love handles. I thought he might soon let his hands slide further, perhaps even over her ass cheeks, but he held back. Meera didn’t resist his touch, her body language giving him silent permission.
Then, Desai reached up, his fingers lightly touching her chin, turning her face toward him. He didn’t ask, but his eyes sought permission. Meera’s soft smile was all the answer he needed.
And I watched as he brought his lips to her cheek.
“It feels great to hold you, Meera,” I heard Desai whisper.
Meera smiled but didn’t say anything. As she glanced toward me, Desai gently touched her chin again, turning her face back to him.
“I can believe, can’t I?” he asked, his voice low.
Meera met his gaze. “I hope so.”
He looked deep into her eyes, and the space between them disappeared. His lips pressed softly into hers, slow and deliberate.
I forgot to click the photo.
My heartbeat quickened. I had fully expected this, yet watching it unfold in front of me made me question whether I was truly ready for it.
 
This time, it was different. Every time she had been in the arms of another man, she had always come back to me. But now, I had set the rule myself – she wasn’t coming back. The quick kiss she shared with Desai was more than just a touch of lips; it was the first undeniable sign that things had changed.
“Will you dance with me?” Desai asked.
Meera looked at him amusingly. “Dance?”
I, too, was surprised. Desai was not a great dancer, and I doubted he had suddenly picked up the skill. But what intrigued me more was his insistence on making her dance in this dress.
He grabbed the remote and flipped through the songs until he found a peppy number, turning up the volume. The moment I recognized the track, my suspicion solidified. It was the same song I had danced to with Meera at Ritu’s wedding – while Desai had watched from the side-lines. He had chosen it deliberately, making sure I knew that he remembered that night, that moment of jealousy he had swallowed.
As he returned to Meera, she extended her hands to him, locking her eyes onto his. She started with slow, graceful steps, guiding him. Desai tried to match her, laughing at himself as he failed miserably.
“Oh, I can’t,” he chuckled.
“No, you’re learning,” Meera encouraged him, her voice playful.
He kept trying, his hands still clasping hers, as she moved gracefully to the beat. I couldn’t help but stare – her breasts bounced with each motion, straining against the snug fabric. I feared, just for a second, that they might spill out. Meera must have felt the same because she adjusted the neckline a couple of times at first. But as the song progressed, her confidence grew, and she let go of her hesitation, moving freely with the rhythm.
 
When the song ended, Desai turned to me. “Your turn.”
I shook my head. “Me? Come on. You two are doing fine.”
“Come on, Krish. Dance with me,” Meera said, her voice softer.
I hesitated, but her eyes held a quiet invitation. I couldn’t refuse.
Getting up, I joined her. The next song was slower, more intimate. Meera slid her left arm under my right, and we swayed sideways at first, then turned to face each other. She held my forearm before shifting her grip to my hands.
I felt we were getting closer than we should have, but Meera wasn’t pulling away. Her eyes, her smile, the warmth of her touch – she wanted this moment with me, perhaps one last time.
 
As we moved in sync, her breath brushed my face. More than once, I felt the soft press of her breasts against my chest. The dress had a strapless padded bra inside, pushing her curves up, making them more pronounced, more tempting. The heat between us was undeniable.
The dance was fun, but with every step, I felt the weight of what was coming. The closer I held her, the harder it became to ignore the pain of letting go. More than once, I wanted to pull her into my arms, kiss her, and forget everything else. A part of me even thought of stopping it all, telling her I couldn’t let her go.
But before the feeling could take over, the song ended – just in time.
We stepped back, breathing heavily.
“That was…” I exhaled, forcing a smile. “That was great.”
 
"You're tired?" Meera asked, surprised. She looked like she wanted to keep dancing, and I knew the drink was getting to her. She was finally letting go, fully enjoying the night.
I went back to my seat, and Desai joined her again. Meera told him to take off his suit and dance in just his shirt. He did as she suggested, and this time, he moved better, more confident, more expressive. Their hands strayed beyond just holding each other. Desai's fingers brushed her belly, and soon he was holding her midriff with ease. Meera’s breasts bounced more freely now that she wasn’t worried about the dress slipping. As she moved, I saw Desai's hands grazing her navel, touching her in ways that felt more intimate.
As the song neared its end, Desai stopped dancing but pulled Meera into a hug. She stood there, panting, as if surrendering to his touch. Then he leaned in and kissed her lips. Meera hesitated at first, almost pulling back, but when Desai whispered, "Please," she gave in.
This time, it wasn’t a quick kiss. I watched Desai's jaw move, his mouth opening as he sucked on her lips, taking them completely into his own. His arms tightened around her waist, holding her firmly. Meera didn’t resist. She let it happen – embracing the night for what it was.
The kiss lasted until the song naturally came to an end.
 
Desai looked at her with soft eyes, a smile forming on his lips. Meera smiled back, her gaze warm, as if lost in the moment.
"Thank you for teaching me how to dance, Meera, wow." Desai said, gently leading her back to the couch. They sat side by side, the space between them now gone. I noticed how Desai casually wrapped his left arm around her.
 
The dancing had loosened the neatness of Meera’s dress. Her exposed breasts rose and fell as she panted, but she didn’t seem to care. She simply picked up her drink and took a sip. Her long, delicate hands, the smooth, fully exposed curve of her neck, and the sensual beauty of her cleavage all blended into a striking picture. Desai’s arm tightened around her waist, his hand resting on her belly, his fingers lightly brushing her soft skin through the thin fabric. It was a gentle touch, but there was something possessive in the way he held her, his hand cupping the side of her belly.
 
“I’ve thought about you every single day, Meera,” Desai said quietly, his voice thick with longing. “The memories of our moments together... they’ve been making me miss you so much. And when you blocked my number… it hurt. I kept waiting, hoping you’d reach out, that I’d hear your voice. Every time the phone rang, I felt a rush, thinking it might be you. And when it wasn’t… it felt empty. It’s been hard, Meera.”
He paused, his eyes searching her face for understanding. His hand remained on her belly, his fingers resting there as if drawing comfort from her warmth.
“It’s not just about wanting you. It’s about... needing you. To hear you, to feel you close again. But I wasn’t going to say any of this. I only spoke because I’ve been given this moment. And I realize now – I’ve been waiting for this all along.”
 
As Desai poured his heart out, Meera looked at him with tenderness, her gaze full of understanding. Slowly, her fingers reached up to caress his face, tracing the line of his jaw. The softness of her touch, the way she looked at him, made me wonder – would she pull him in and kiss him? Or would he lean forward and claim her lips again?
But Desai seemed content with just her touch. He sat there, smiling at her, as if her face alone was enough.
 
With every moment they spent together like this, I became more convinced that I had made the right decision. Meera is going to find peace with him, I thought. Desai had the ability to make her melt, to show her how much he desired her.
Our second drink was nearly finished after just a few sips. Meera, now a little tipsy, wasn’t too eager for a third.
"This drink... this drink is strong. Like really, really strong," she said, looking at Desai.
Desai looked at me. "But we can have one more, can’t we?" he suggested. I quickly agreed.
 
This time, when Desai went to the kitchen to make the drinks, I followed him, carrying all three glasses.
He grabbed the cocktail shaker and added three ounces of white rum, lime juice, and simple syrup. I handed him the ice cubes, and he shook the mixture vigorously for about 10–15 seconds. Then, he strained it into our glasses, fine-straining for a smoother texture, and garnished each with strawberry pieces and a bit of peppermint. He repeated the process for the other two glasses, carefully balancing the ingredients.
I did a quick mental calculation of how much white rum we’d already consumed. No wonder Meera got tipsy so quickly.
Desai mentioned he had learned to make this cocktail from a friend during his recent trip to Arunachal Pradesh.
"A female friend?" I asked.
He chuckled. "No, a male friend. Great taste in music. Runs a restro-bar."
Since Meera wasn’t around, I decided to ask him how he felt about the night.
Desai sighed. "I’m still trying to believe it’s real. It feels like a dream to have Meera in my arms again. I’ve dreamt of holding her, kissing her, and taking her to bed – but knowing she won’t be leaving me in the morning... that’s beyond anything I ever imagined."
I was astonished by the depth of his feelings for Meera. No matter how she had unconsciously stirred my emotions, no matter how I had secretly entertained fleeting dreams of being with her again, everything changed at that moment. As I looked into Desai’s eyes and saw his raw desire for Meera, I became more certain than ever – I was right to push her toward him.
"You’ll have her tonight, Desai. And beyond that, I see that you deserve her by your side. In the morning, she won’t be coming back to me."
Desai nodded, his eyes softening.
"I can’t tell you how grateful I am, Krish," he said, stepping forward and hugging me. I was caught off guard by the gesture. It was brief, and he quickly pulled back, his face thoughtful.
"But at the same time, I don’t know how to express what I feel about you. I know you still love her. This must be harder than anything I can imagine. I don’t know what – "
"You don’t have to think too much about me now," I cut him off. "Focus on winning her over. She’s still not completely into you."
"At least she’s agreed to come with me. That means I can hope."
"Yeah," I replied, my voice flat.
"When was the last time you two were intimate?" Desai asked as he finished filling the glasses.
"Two days before you met her at Alpine Heights," I answered.
 
Before he could respond, we heard Meera’s voice from the hall.
"Aren’t you two coming back?"
Desai and I exchanged smiles and carried the drinks back. Meera was waiting eagerly, sitting on the couch with one leg crossed over the other. The way she sat showed off the perfect shape of her thick thighs.
"What were you guys doing in the kitchen? Talking too much," she said, frowning playfully.
"I was asking Krish when was the last time you two made love," Desai said casually.
Meera raised an eyebrow and, in a quiet voice, said, "Oh, it was yesterday."
I stared at her, stunned.
"What?"
Desai looked at her, then at me.
I kept my eyes locked on Meera.
She smirked. "It was a dream."
I laughed, feeling a wave of relief.
"A dream!"
"Wow, a dream," Desai said, settling next to her. "How did it go? Did he make you come?" he asked, teasing her.
"Yeah, he did," Meera said, flashing a naughty smile. "In fact, when I woke up in the morning, I was surprised to find that the orgasm was real."
I was stunned again. She had not only dreamed of having sex with me but also claimed to have experienced a real orgasm from it. I wasn’t sure if she was telling the truth, but she didn’t look like she was lying. She was staring straight into Desai’s eyes, and he believed her. So, I had to believe her too.
"Probably, you're craving warmth," Desai said softly, keeping his gaze on her.
Meera didn’t break eye contact.
"Probably, yes," she whispered.
"Then I hope to turn this night into something with a lot of warmth." Desai said.
Meera stared at him, then broke into a full smile. She looked down, biting her lip, aware of the dirty talk that had just slipped from her. I couldn't help but wonder if, in that moment, she was already picturing herself in his bed, letting him take her with the kind of freedom she might have dreamt of.
I couldn’t watch them any longer and averted my eyes.
 
"Probably you're craving for warmth," Desai said softly, maintaining eye contact.
Meera didn’t break the gaze either.
"Probably, yes," she whispered.
"I would, hopefully, turn this night into something with a lot of warmth," Desai said.
Meera stared at him, and then broke into a full smile. She looked down, biting her lip, aware of the dirty talk that had just slipped from her. I couldn't help but wonder if, in that moment, she was already picturing herself lying in his bed, spreading her legs for him, taking in his thick, monstrous manhood with the kind of reckless freedom she might have only dared to dream of.
I couldn’t watch them any longer and averted my eyes.
 
As Meera took another sip, I noticed she downed a quarter of her drink in one go. It felt like she was leaning on the alcohol to steady herself for what lay ahead. If I was right, she was preparing herself to take in all of Desai’s love tonight. Maybe she knew the next few days would be filled with pain, loss, and tears.
Desai excused himself to use the washroom, leaving Meera and me alone in the hall.
"You didn't tell me about the dream," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "Did it really happen?"
"Why do you care?" Meera looked at me, her tone sharp. "What difference would it have made if I had told you?"
"Nothing," I replied, still caught off guard by her words.
Meera stood up and walked toward me. She had to pause for a moment to steady herself. Then, she adjusted the edge of her dress over her breasts, making me aware of their fullness without meaning to.
"Not that you wanted to be a part of it?" she teased, leaning closer. For a second, I thought she might trip, but she didn’t. Before I could react, she cupped my face with both hands and pressed her lips against mine.
The warmth of her kiss hit me hard, both physically and mentally. She was kissing me.
"Mmm... Meera!" I murmured, gently pushing her away. My hands were careful, not wanting to hurt her.
She straightened up, licking her lips as she smiled at me.
"Yummy!" she giggled.
"Meera, please," I said, taking a deep breath.
"What?" she asked, her voice slightly unsteady.
I could tell the alcohol had lowered her inhibitions. I thought about how she had gulped that large sip earlier, and I remembered how Desai had mixed the drinks. Three ounces of white rum in one cocktail… That meant she had already consumed seven or eight ounces.
"Meera, you’re drunk," I warned. "What are you doing? We've already talked about this, and we've made our decisions."
"Yeah, I know." Meera raised her hand as if to stop me and continued. "I know I'm done chasing you, done trying to make amends. It's time I…"
She froze mid-sentence, her words trailing off as she saw Desai walking back into the room.
 
"Am I interrupting you guys?" Desai asked in a pleasant voice.
"No," Meera replied, turning slightly toward him but keeping her eyes on me for a moment longer. Then, she looked at him directly. "I was just telling him I’m done resisting you. There’s no point in that anymore, right? It’s time I stop and really look at you – to see where your heart is."
Desai took a step closer, and Meera reached out, letting her fingers wrap around his. He held her hand firmly, his thumb slowly brushing against her skin.
"Have I been rude to you, Susheel?" she asked, her voice softer now, more intimate.
Desai met her gaze. "I can’t tell. Even if you were, I wouldn’t be offended."
"Because you’ve become blind," Meera whispered, closing the distance between them. Her fingers lifted, trailing from his forehead down to his nose, then to his lips and chin. She traced his features as if memorizing them, her touch slow and deliberate.
"Kiss me, Susheel," she whispered. "I want to feel loved."
Her words hung in the air, thick with longing. I felt their weight settle deep in my chest. My heart pounded. This was it. Meera had finally made her choice.
And Desai seized the opportunity without hesitation. His lips crushed against hers, his arms wrapping around her, holding her as if she might slip away if he didn’t. It wasn’t just a kiss – it was possession, it was hunger. The sound of their lips meeting filled the room, blending with the heavy pounding in my ears.
Meera responded instantly, her jaw shifting, welcoming him, and giving herself over to the moment. I watched as his tongue slipped between her lips, exploring her mouth, and she matched him, pulling him in deeper. She wasn’t holding back – she wanted this just as much as he did.
I sat frozen, watching them drown in each other. Their kiss became more intense, their bodies pressing together as if trying to mould into one.
Desai’s hands roamed over her body, mapping her curves. At first, his touch was careful – his fingers pressing into the small of her back, testing, teasing. But that restraint didn’t last long. His palms travelled lower, grabbing her ass through the thin fabric of her dress, pulling her against him.
I saw the exact moment he made her feel him. The moment his waist pushed against hers, letting her know exactly how hard he had become for her. Meera’s arms moved between them, pressing into his chest. For a split second, I thought she might push him away.
But she didn’t.

to be continued..

[krish_999]

Chapter 51 continues.

Instead, she gripped his shirt and pulled him closer, urging him to grind into her more. Her fingers curled into the fabric, holding onto him as if bracing herself for what was to come.

Desai groaned into her mouth, his lips leaving hers only to travel down her neck. He sucked on her skin, his teeth grazing her flesh just enough to make her gasp. She tilted her chin back, giving him full access, surrendering completely.
Meera arched into him, her body curving with need, pressing herself deeper into his embrace. And in that moment, I knew. The deal was sealed. There was no turning back.
 
I was lost in the moment, but to be honest, I hated every second of it. My eyes burned as I watched them, yet I couldn’t look away. I tried, but my lips still carried the taste of hers – the warmth, the softness, and the way she had pressed against me just moments ago. It wasn’t just the kiss. It was how she had reached for me, how her body leaned into mine. Had she really wanted Desai all along, or was this just her way of proving something after I pushed her away?
The more I thought about it, the more it felt like she was being pulled toward me, not him. The way she looked at me when she spoke about her dream. The teasing smile on her lips. The way she had come so close before she kissed me. And now, she was doing the same with him – but it felt different. It felt like she was reacting to what had happened between us. Like she was trying to erase whatever she had felt with me by giving herself to Desai.
I remembered something Desai had told me long ago.
A cuckold becomes the winner when he forgives his wife and accepts her back after she's been fucked by another man.
I clenched my jaw as the weight of his words settled over me. Meera had given me every sign tonight – signs that she wanted to return, that she was waiting for me to stop her. But I hadn’t. I had let her go. I had pushed her into Desai’s arms, thinking that was what she needed, what I needed.
And now, she had surrendered completely.
Not just to Desai’s touch, but to the fate I had written for her.
For all her inner struggles, for all the times she had resisted, she had finally given in – to Desai’s hunger, to my decision, to the reality that there was no turning back now. And that realization burned through me more than anything else.
 
The room felt heavier than the silence that had settled between us. I stood frozen, my breath caught in my throat, watching Meera and Desai as though they existed in a world just beyond my reach – close enough to see, but impossible to touch. They were inches apart, their faces tilted toward each other, and then, without hesitation, Desai closed the distance. His lips met hers in a kiss that was unhurried, deliberate, as if he wanted to carve every second into memory. Meera responded, her hands resting lightly on his chest, her lips pressing into his with a quiet surrender.
 
The kiss broke soon, but the air between them remained charged.
Desai exhaled, as if steadying himself, then reached into his pocket and pulled out something small and velvety. He flipped open the box, revealing a thin necklace, its whitish-grey colour glinting in the light, with a heart-shaped pendant.
"I think this is the moment," he murmured. "I know it’s too soon to propose – I know you wouldn’t fall for that. But I can’t stop myself from asking you to wear this. Please accept it, Meera."
Meera stared at him, as if her world had come to a standstill. Her eyes didn’t even glance at the necklace for a second.
"I would have said no if you had proposed," she said slowly. "Yes, it’s too soon."
Desai put the empty box back into his pocket and held the necklace with both hands, lifting it up in front of her.
"Take it as a gift," he urged. "I’d love to see you wearing it."
Meera nodded slowly. "Okay."
She extended her hand.
"Allow me to put it on you," Desai said, gently raising the necklace to her neck. Meera hesitated, looking at him.
"But it doesn’t mean anything, deal?"
"Deal."
Meera lowered her hands and tilted her chin, exposing her neck to him.
She smiled. "I’ve lived a lot of fantasies with Krish. Now it’s time to live yours," she said, still smiling.
Desai placed the necklace around her neck and struggled for a moment to fasten the hook behind her head. Meera remained calm, standing still until he finished. Once done, Desai kissed her again – this time shorter, but with a touch of gratitude.
Desai stepped back to admire her. She was a mess – her dress slightly wrinkled, its fabric clinging to her in places. Yet the pendant rested low, nearly vanishing into her deep cleavage, drawing attention effortlessly and adding to the sultry aura she already carried.
"It’s beautiful. And you look stunning, Meera," Desai said.
Meera glanced at the necklace, and then smiled at him. "It’s beautiful."
Desai took both of her hands and pulled her closer.
"You’re beautiful, baby. I can’t wait."
Meera saw what was coming and laughed. "You’ll have to wait, Susheel. You..."
Meera paused as Desai smiled at her understandably and held her hand. He then led her back to the couch, his arm steadying her as she swayed slightly. Once she sat down, he turned to me.
"Sorry, Krish," he said with a chuckle. "Guess I got carried away in the excitement."
Meera leaned back against the couch, rubbing her temples. "I feel overly drunk. I can't drink anymore."
I took another sip of my drink, rolling the taste over my tongue before swallowing. "The drink is good," I admitted. "That sweet and citrus taste mixed with the bitterness of the rum – it’s hard to tell just how much alcohol is in one glass."
Desai grinned. "That’s because I made it to taste its best."
Meera let out a small laugh, tilting her head toward him. "Ah, now I see your real intentions."
Desai raised an eyebrow. "And what would that be?"
"You want the night to be wild," she said, her lips curving into a knowing smirk.
Desai didn't hesitate. "I do. I want the night to be wild – with all of us enjoying."
I let out a dry laugh. "So far, it looks like only two people are enjoying it to the fullest."
Meera shot me a sharp look, a teasing glint in her eyes. "Well, you deserve to sit and stare." She tilted her head, her voice laced with mockery. "Because you’re a heartless man."
Desai leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "I have no plans to leave Krish out of the fun tonight," he said with a grin.
I narrowed my eyes and dared to joke. "I hope you’re not planning a threesome."
Meera made an angry face at me, while Desai burst into laughter.
"He’s got new ideas worth trying,” Desai teased.
Meera turned her head sharply to look at him, her eyes questioning.
Desai laughed even harder at her reaction, shaking his head. "Relax, baby. I’m just messing with you."
Meera rolled her eyes. “Thank God, I’m breaking up with him before it’s too late.”
After a moment of silence between us, Meera slowly spoke more. And she spoke to me.
“It’s not that I wanted to change you, Krish. But I’ve always hoped to see you stand up for what you initiate. You made me sleep with other men, allowed me to play with my emotions, and then you began experimenting with it. I knew I would falter, but instead of hiding in the background, watching where I was heading, I would’ve preferred for you to be a part of it—guide me, bring me back when I lost my way. I've never attached myself to anyone the way I have with you. But with Susheel, you pushed me too far. The threat of leaving me—it was too much. At one point, I even thought it was just a game between the two of you. But when I realized it was real, I prayed that it was just a game."
Meera said, and I nodded in agreement. I couldn’t have put it any better myself. But deep down, I knew it was too late to correct myself.
 
Both Desai's and my drinks were nearly finished, so we decided to empty our glasses. Meera, however, shook her head. "I don't want to pass out," she said.
Desai smirked. "Then Krish and I will share your drink."
Meera's eyes widened. "You've learned a lot of silly stuff from Krish. I warn you – don't do it."
But Desai ignored her warning, took her glass, and poured the remaining drink equally into ours. We clinked the bottoms of our glasses together before finishing it in one go.
He then turned to Meera on an afterthought. “A few minutes ago, you said you’re not attached to anyone. Does that mean it’s going to be tough for me?” He asked.
“You know how tough I can be, Susheel.” Meera said. “But you’re a tough guy too. I agreed to Krish’s demand to come with you because of that—you can withstand heartbreak.”
“I won’t let you break my heart.”
“I want to believe that, Romeo.”
 
After that, we proceeded to have dinner. Desai mentioned that he only needed a light meal.
Meera smirked. "Preserving your energy for the night?" she teased.
Desai raised an eyebrow. "Shouldn’t I?"
Meera flushed at his direct tease. "Mmm… tell me," he pressed, leaning slightly toward her.
Meera turned away with a shy smile. "Shut up," she muttered.
I watched them, and Meera noticed. She gestured for me to eat, so we all focused on our plates. None of us ate much, and dinner ended quickly.
 
Afterward, we returned to the hall. Meera started toward the room. "I need to change," she said.
Desai stopped her with a soft, "Please… keep it."
Meera stared at him for a few seconds, as if processing his words. Then, I saw it – the flicker of understanding in her eyes. I understood it too.
Desai wanted her to step into his bedroom in the same dress. He wanted to welcome her like this – just as she was – into his bed and into his life.
I realized then that this night wasn’t about the union of two souls – it was purely about the union of two bodies. Desai hardly made an effort to talk about anything meaningful; he was more focused on teasing, turning every moment into a game of seduction. It was as if he believed that sleeping with Meera tonight was necessary, that taking her to bed and claiming her there was the best way forward.
In a way, he had his reasons to think so. After all, the version of Meera he longed for – the one he truly connected with – was the one he had found in moments of intimacy. Perhaps Desai had come with a plan. A plan to take her to bed, to drown her in the pleasure he knew he could give, and at the right moment, claim not just her body, but her heart.
I was sure Meera wouldn’t be able to say no to him.
I wondered what his ultimate wish for the night was. To make Meera say yes to his proposal? Earlier, he had spotted a moment to propose but had held back, admitting it was too soon. Maybe he was waiting for the perfect moment.
And that moment would come tonight.
The more I thought about it, the more I started to believe it.
 
Meera had come back to the hall but then hesitated for a moment. "I am feeling heavy...my head like a mess," She said. "I think having some soup would help."
She looked at both of us. "Who else wants some?"
Desai and I exchanged glances.
"Okay, I’ll have some," I said.
Desai shook his head sideways, "No thanks, baby."
She nodded and walked away, both me and Desai watching the soft sway of her hips.
As soon as she disappeared into the kitchen, Desai leaned toward me, lowering his voice.
"She’s making sure she walks into my bed with a clear mind."
I noticed how Desai spoke like it was now a certainty that Meera would sleep with him. I let out a short breath. "Good for you."
Desai smirked, but then he looked at me carefully, as if noticing something beneath my calm tone.
"You okay?" he asked.
I wasn’t.
I threw a glance toward the kitchen before speaking. "No, I’m not."
Desai waited, giving me the space to continue. I didn’t look at him when I spoke, but I knew he was listening.
"I still love her, Desai." I admitted. "But I’m still pushing her toward you. Not because I want to. But because I have to."
Desai stayed quiet.
"If I stay with her, I’ll only ruin her," I continued. "I know what kind of man I am, Desai. I’ve come to terms with it. I’ll end up making her sleep with other men, whether she wants it or not, because… that’s how I am." I swallowed hard. "But with you, it’s different. I’ve seen it. She has chemistry with you. A real one. And I think you deserve to be her lifelong companion."
Desai still didn’t say anything, but I could sense he was absorbing every word.
"She’s told me, and I’ve seen it myself," I went on. "When she’s with you, she forgets everything else. I mean in bed. And let’s be real – bedroom is the foundation of marriage. Everything else – money, power, job, society – it all comes after that. Maybe someday she’ll find someone even better than you, Desai. But I’m not worried about that. I’m only worried about making sure she moves on from me."
I exhaled, feeling lighter after saying it out loud. "That’s why I’m pushing her to you. It’s up to you to make it or break it. But tonight, she’s all yours."
Desai finally spoke. "Krish… this is the ultimate sacrifice." He paused. "But I’m not a fool. I don’t believe she’ll just choose me over you overnight."
I gave a short, dry chuckle. "It’s not overnight. It’s been a long road to get here. Fights, arguments, resistance – Meera has pushed back every step of the way. We didn’t reach this point just like that. It’s been a long battle."
Desai nodded. "I know." He took a deep breath, then looked at me again. "But I still need your help."
I turned to him, frowning slightly. "Help for what?"
Desai hesitated, then spoke carefully. "To make her move on from you completely."
I narrowed my eyes. "And what exactly do you mean by that?"
He gave me a look. "Krish, don’t take this the wrong way. But the best way to do that… is to remind her that your cuckold nature is still in you."
I froze. My fingers tightened around my glass.
I turned to him slowly. "What the hell are you saying?"
Desai sighed, leaning back. "You have to watch. Become a part of... "
"No. I can’t." I didn't let him finish. "I don’t want to."
Before Desai could respond, we heard the sound of footsteps – slow, slightly uneven.
 
Meera walked in, carrying two bowls of soup, her movements just a little too careful, like she was trying to mask the sway in her steps.
Both of us straightened immediately, dropping the conversation.
She looked between us as she handed me a bowl. "What were you two talking about?"
"Nothing," Desai said smoothly.
I took a sip from my soup in silence, my mind still stuck on his words.
"You guys are acting weird," Meera muttered, sitting down with Desai.
Desai smiled at her. "Just men talk, baby."
She rolled her eyes and started sipping her soup, unaware of the silent battle happening between us.
And as I stared down at my soup, I realized something.
Desai wasn’t just planning to take Meera to bed tonight.
He was planning to claim her.
As Meera and I sipped our soup, Desai asked her what kind it was. She said it was a corn soup. “Quick to make.” she added.
Desai nodded. “I can smell the aroma,” he said, then smirked. “Would you share?”
Meera scoffed. “Oh, now you want some?”
Desai leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper. “If you don’t, I’ll just have to steal it from your mouth. Literally.”
Meera shot him a serious stare but then, unable to hold it, a playful smile curled on her lips. She scooped some soup onto a spoon, blew gently to cool it, and brought it to Desai’s lips. He took in the whole spoonful, swallowing without hesitation.
“It’s good,” he said.
Meera shrugged. “It’s just from a ready-made pack. Nothing special.”
Desai shook his head. “No, it tastes better somehow. I don’t know why.”
Meera narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously, then took another spoonful for herself. Something clicked in her mind. She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, the hint of realization dawning in her expression.
I watched on as they continued sharing the same spoon, drinking from the same bowl, their subtle playfulness filling the air between them.
 
I casually asked him about the flight details for next day.
“I was about to tell you.” Desai leaned back in his chair he looked at Meera with a quiet intensity. “I told my parents that a true gift is waiting for them next week,” he said.
Meera blinked, “What do you mean?”
“I’m not taking you to the resort first,” Desai said. “I’m taking you home. To my parents.”
His words surprised both me and Meera. He had told me that he was going to take Meera for a week-long trip to bamboo resort.
Desai went on, “I want you to meet them first, Meera. I don’t want this to feel like a getaway. I want it to feel real. You should meet them, understand where I come from, and then decide if you still want to go to the resort.”
Meera kept the soup bowl back on the centre table. For a long moment, she didn’t say anything. But I saw the shift in her eyes; as if the wall she kept up against Desai was collapsing. She looked straight and I saw her eyes becoming wet. She lowered her eye slowly, shaking her head, and then to our surprise, she covered her face with hands and let out a soft sob.
Desai was unsure, reflecting my own reaction.
“Meera?” he called.
Meera looked up, and her lips quivered. “I was awful to you,” she turned to him. “Especially after that day at Alpine Heights. I was rude to you… I… I thought I knew exactly where my heart stood. But maybe I didn’t.”
Desai's face softened, “Meera, you don’t…”
She didn’t let him finish. She reached for him, cupping his face with both hands, and pressed her lips to his.
It wasn’t hurried, wasn’t desperate. It was deliberate. A moment of surrender, of acceptance.
I watched from the side, witnessing the rare moment of Meera letting herself lean into Desai, and slowly, perhaps, her heart truly begin to shift towards him.
She picked up the soup again and took a spoonful to her mouth. It was nearly finished. She then offered the last spoonful to Desai.
Desai took it and smiled at her.
“I wish you’d say you love me, at least now,” Desai blurted. “If you can’t, then at least spit into my mouth.”
“What?” Meera looked at him, surprised. “That’s an awful thing to suggest.”
“I thought it was a gesture,” Desai said.
“It wasn’t a gesture of love. It was…” She stole a glance at my face before continuing. “It’s just some ultimate kinky stuff Krish taught me. It has psychological value in our heads, but I’m not emotionally attached to it. I don’t want to spit into someone’s mouth to say I love them.” She pulled a face, then let out a laugh at the absurdity of it. “How awful to think like that.”
Desai laughed, then said, “But I loved the taste. Never mind.”
“I will never spit into your mouth,” Meera said, looking at him. “You’ll have to find another kink if that’s what you want.”
And now, she was full of smiles.
 
As the soup finished, I volunteered to take the bowls to the kitchen. After that, I made a quick visit to the washroom as well.
When I returned, I saw them sitting closer, Desai’s arm dbangd around her. They were deep in conversation, and Meera was gushing – her eyes bright, her smile effortless. I stopped at the door, choosing not to enter the hall.
I watched as Meera shook her head, murmuring a soft "no," though there was no real resistance in her tone. She raised a hand in emphasis, her fingers moving in a way I couldn’t quite decipher. Desai caught that hand, holding it for a moment before letting it go. Instead, he gently turned her face toward him – and kissed her.
At first, it was Desai kissing her, but within seconds, Meera leaned in, pressing her lips back against his with unmistakable intent. From where I stood, half-hidden inside the bedroom doorway, I saw Desai’s right hand glide from her face down to her neck, then lower, tracing slow circles around her left breast. Meera didn’t flinch, didn’t stop him. And in that moment, I knew – she was ready to welcome him.
Then, as their lips parted, Desai saw me. Though he didn’t startle, he slowly withdrew his hand from her chest. His eyes met mine.
"Come, Krish. We're just talking," he said casually.
I exhaled. "I think it's time to sleep."
Desai smirked. "Come on, Meera is still sloppy."
Meera elbowed him lightly in the stomach. "Ouch!" he groaned.
"Who is sloshy…?" she mumbled, then quickly corrected herself. "Sloppy."
Desai chuckled. "Your kiss was very sloppy. Your tongue was sloppy. I don’t want to take you to bed yet."
Meera jabbed him again, this time with the back of her elbow.
I walked into the hall and sat on my couch while they continued their playful banter.
"What’s wrong with my tongue being sloppy?" Meera asked, narrowing her eyes.
"I like your tongue sharp always," Desai teased. "Especially in bed."
Meera scoffed, then wrapped both hands around his neck, pretending to choke him. "You pervert!"
Desai laughed, still not looking at me, as he playfully struggled to free himself. "Krish, looks like you're going to end up watching us make love right here. This lady is too hot and aggressive to resist."
And before she could react, he suddenly pulled her closer, leaning back. Meera lost her balance and fell on top of him. Desai wrapped an arm around her neck, pulling her face dangerously close to his.
From where I sat, all I could see was Meera’s round ass and the smooth curve of her legs. I didn’t know if they kissed again – but I was sure Desai wouldn’t have let the moment slip.
But my doubt was quickly erased as Meera continued to stay on top of him, Desai’s arm wrapping around her hip. His right hand soon reached back to caress her ass – though it looked more like an attempt to steady her from slipping off.
"Leave me! I'll spit on you, you moron," Meera warned, narrowing her eyes.
Desai grinned. "You're welcome to spit into my mouth."
Meera scoffed. "I’ll spit on your face."
Desai smirked. "You can do whatever you want to me."
Meera lifted her fist and playfully thumped his chest. "Desai…" she muttered in a tone that was half-warning, half-laugh.
And in the next second, with a quick push of his right foot against the floor, Desai twisted her whole body to the left, making her fall onto the couch beside him. In one swift stroke, he had her lying next to him – though he himself didn’t have enough space to stretch out properly.
In the brief struggle, his right hand brushed firmly against the top edge of her dress, and in an instant, the fabric slipped down.
Suddenly, her left breast was fully exposed.
I was stunned.
"Hey!" Meera yelped.
Desai quickly apologized and tried to pull the edge of her dress back up, but it wasn’t easy. His fingers fumbled against the fabric, and in the process, he ended up brushing against her breast a couple of times.
"What are you doing? Get off me!" Meera snapped, as is his touch burnt her.
 
Desai immediately pulled back and sat up. Meera did the same, her face turning toward me in embarrassment. Avoiding my gaze, she hastily pulled her dress up, struggling for a moment before finally managing to cover herself.
I said, "Guys, I think you’re ready. At least I should leave you alone."
But Desai shook his head. "No, bro. Please, stay."
Meera shot him a warning look. "But stop doing this."
Desai smirked. "Who started this?"
Meera didn’t answer. Instead, she turned to me. "Please, Krish, let’s call it a day."
Her words – though meant to make Desai behave – hit me like thunder. She had told me to call it a day. In other words, she wanted me to go to my room. Hadn’t she just made her choice clear? Hadn’t she chosen her partner?
My heart sank, no matter how much I had tried to convince myself that I was prepared for this moment.
Desai said, "Babe, let him stay. He’s part of our love story."
Meera stared at him. "What do you mean?"
Desai looked her in the eyes. "It’s the last time he’ll get the chance to fulfil his long-standing wish."
Meera frowned. "What wish?"
Desai held her gaze and said, "To watch us."
Meera’s reaction was instant. "No." She turned to me. "Krish..."
Desai also turned to me. "Krish, say yes."
I could see the request in his eyes. Both of them were staring at me, waiting for my response. And I said, "No, I don’t want to watch."
Desai’s face showed subtle disappointment, but he didn’t give up. "Krish, you want to watch." Then he turned back to Meera. "Honey, listen to me. Please, give him a chance to forget you. Let him... help him move on."
"Susheel, no," Meera said firmly. "This is not..." She trailed off, and Desai gently grabbed her hand.
I had almost risen from my seat, but Desai quickly said, "Krish, please sit. I know you want to watch us."
And before Meera could protest, he pulled her closer and kissed her.
"Baby, I want him to witness," he murmured as he broke the quick kiss.
Desai’s lips moved against Meera’s, coaxing her into the kiss. She resisted at first, pushing lightly against his chest, but he didn’t stop. His hands cupped her face, tilting her head just enough to deepen the kiss. Her resistance wavered, her breath hitching as his lips claimed hers more aggressively. Slowly, she gave in, her hands clutching at his shirt instead of pushing him away.
Their kiss turned wilder, their mouths moving hungrily against each other. I heard Desai whisper between breaths, "Let me taste your tongue, baby."
Meera hesitated, but then, as if surrendering completely, she allowed him to suck it into his mouth.
Desai groaned, his voice thick with pleasure. "Mmm... it's getting sharper."
Meera let out a soft laugh, only for her open mouth to be captured again. This time, I saw Desai’s tongue slip out, trailing down from her chin before thrusting into her mouth again. Meera sucked on it, her body pressing closer to him.
At the same time, Desai’s right hand moved with purpose, reaching for the top edge of her dress. Slowly, he tugged it downward, exposing her breast once more – but this time, there was no accident.
 
Meera gasped and made a half-hearted attempt to pull away, but Desai pressed forward. His mouth still devouring hers, his fingers grazing over her bare skin. Then, he broke the kiss, breathing heavily as he pulled back just enough to take in the sight of her exposed breast.
His eyes darkened with desire, and a grin curled at his lips.
"I want it, baby," he said ecstatically.
Meera said, "Not here, let's go to the room."
She quickly stole a glance at me, and I couldn't guess whether she was disappointed by my presence. But she had seen me. She knew I wasn’t leaving. Desai’s words came back to my mind.
"To make her move on from you completely... the best way to do that… is to remind her that your cuckold nature is still in you."
 
He was right. Just by selling her the idea that I hadn't changed, I could help her decide in favour of moving on from me.
And he had already planted that belief in her mind by telling her to let me witness them – imprinting a final image in my head of her and him, irreversibly intimate.
Meera’s resistance had faded. She lowered her hand, leaving her left breast exposed, and leaned back on the couch, silently accepting the moment. Desai reached out, his fingers brushing against her skin as he untangled her necklace, which had shifted out of place from their movements. His palm lingered over her bare breast, tracing slow circles before moving toward the other side of her dress.
With deliberate ease, he gripped the fabric and pulled it down. The dress resisted for a moment before sliding lower, unveiling her fully. Her breasts, with tits semi-erect, appeared bigger than usual against the tight folds of fabric gathered beneath them, the soft weight of them rising and falling with each breath. Desai exhaled, taking in the sight, his eyes dark with desire.
“How can you be so beautiful, Meera? I'm growing older day by day.”
Meera sighed, “Not here, old man! Please. I am begging you, take me to the room. I can’t enjoy this. It’s getting awkward.”
This time, I sided with her. “Desai, take her to the bedroom.”
"Okay," Desai smirked and turned to me. “But you’ll follow us.”
I nodded. I had already decided to go along with his idea.
Desai stood first, then helped Meera to her feet. As soon as she stood up, she pulled her dress back up to cover her breasts. But Desai had other plans. With a sudden motion, he swept her into his arms, making her gasp in surprise.
Meera laughed, instinctively wrapping her arms around his neck. “I know you’re not an old man, Susheel. You don’t have to prove it again and again.”
Desai grinned. “This is how I want to do it.”
“Fantasies,” Meera murmured, shaking her head with a playful smile.
 
He carried her toward the room opposite our master bedroom. Halfway there, he lifted her higher, making her squeal softly before his lips captured hers again. Their kiss deepened mid-air, and Meera’s legs swung slightly with the motion of his steps.
I followed a few steps behind, watching as she melted into him. Her dress had slipped slightly again, but she didn’t seem to care.
Desai pulled away just enough to murmur against her lips, "You taste incredible, baby."
Meera chuckled breathlessly. "You're just obsessed with kissing me, aren’t you?"
"I am," Desai admitted, brushing his nose against hers. "And I plan to show you just how much."
I didn’t follow Desai. He had reached the door of the bedroom, still carrying Meera in his arms. Instead of pushing it open himself, he stood there, waiting. Then he turned his head and looked at me.
"Krish, could you help me open the door?" His voice was calm, almost playful. "I don’t want to put her down before I reach the bed. It'll ruin the romantic feel."
I hesitated. It was clear he was just finding reasons to pull me along with him, making sure I didn't stay behind.
 
I got up and slowly walked toward them. As I reached the door and pushed it open, I muttered, "I’m afraid you’re wasting your energy in the wrong place."
Desai chuckled, stepping inside. "I don’t need physical energy tonight, Krish," he said, glancing at Meera, whose arms were still wrapped around his neck. "I’m emotionally very charged."
He carried Meera inside the room and I stood just outside the room.
This was it. The moment Desai had envisioned – the moment he wanted me to witness.
I noticed Meera’s gaze flickering toward me briefly, but she didn’t say anything. Instead, she turned her face back to Desai, as if she had made her choice.
 
As I stood outside the door, I watched Desai reach the bed and gently lower Meera onto it. The moment her back touched the mattress, he hurriedly leaned over her, his mouth capturing hers in a deep kiss. He had to bend slightly, obscuring my view of her, but I saw her face tilted upward, lips locked with his. As their kiss deepened, Desai began unbuttoning his shirt with one hand, his urgency evident.
I knew I should stay – I had promised Desai I would. But I couldn’t watch. Not this. Not when he had already won. He wouldn’t remember me for the next few minutes. Why would he? He had what he wanted the most. And he had ensured that Meera saw me opening the door for them, giving her one last confirmation that I was never meant to be her man.
From this moment on, I had no purpose in Meera’s life – except to hear her surrender to him one last time.
 
I turned away, walking back to my couch. My throat felt unbearably dry. Grabbing a water bottle, I took a long sip, trying to swallow the reality of what was unfolding behind me.
The bedroom door remained open. I couldn’t hear anything yet, but I knew it was only a matter of time before Meera’s voice filled the silence – accepting him, submitting to his touch, merging with his desire.
Tomorrow, Desai’s ultimate wish would be fulfilled. He would wake up with Meera.
I settled onto the couch and sighed. A deep, growing emptiness spread through me. I had pushed Meera away – because it was the only way to give her the peace she deserved. I had convinced myself that, in doing so, I would also free myself from the grip of my own twisted desires. But I had never considered the cost. I had never imagined the void that would follow, the hollow ache settling like dead weight in my chest.
It was hell. A hell of my own making.
 
A soft giggle floated from the bedroom, pulling me back to the moment. Desai must have started bringing out his A-game.
I reached for the empty glass on the table, debating whether I should pour myself a drink. But I couldn’t lift it. The coldness of the glass against my skin felt meaningless. The drink wouldn’t change anything. Nothing would.
What would help, though?
My gaze drifted back to the door. It stood open, an unspoken invitation. And I realized – Desai was right. Perhaps both Meera and I needed a final image, something inescapable, undeniable. A truth I could never un-see, never forget. A memory carved so deeply into my mind that it would finally force me to move on.
A final image. That was the key.
 
I rose to my feet; my legs heavy yet steady, and walked toward the door. Each step felt like both a betrayal and a necessity.
The door stood open.
And then I saw it.
Meera lay on the bed, still in her dress, but it had lost its shape. The fabric had slipped off her breasts down to her hips, with the hem gathered at her waist. She looked as good as completely nude. Desai was shirtless, and his strong, muscular body was on top of her, though he wasn’t resting his weight on her. His knees were placed between her parted thighs, and his body inwardly curved over hers. His mouth was on her breasts, feasting on their softness. I saw his tongue dancing around the centre of her softness, his hunger evident in the way he licked beneath them.
Meera’s arms moved uncertainly at first, as if she didn’t know where to place them. But as I watched, they slowly wrapped around Desai’s head, fingers threading through his hair. She was welcoming his touch.
I didn’t feel anger. Not even jealousy. Just a hollow emptiness settling deep in my chest – a void I couldn’t fill. This was my reality now. This was what I had chosen.
I was about to step back, to retreat from the scene, when Desai turned his eyes to me. There was no surprise in his gaze – just a calm acknowledgment, as if he had always known I would be there.
“Come on in, Krish,” he said, his voice low but commanding.
 
In that moment, I understood. This wasn’t just my last opportunity. It was his too – his last chance to let me watch, to imprint this moment in my mind forever. Like me, he was a man of fantasies, and this was his way of claiming victory.
Against the part of me that screamed to turn away, my feet moved forward, obeying his words. My eyes were unable to look away. Desai looked pleased, and he turned his attention back to Meera, his fix on Meera.
I stood there, a silent witness to the unravelling of everything I had once held dear. And as I watched, a strange indifference crept in, as if my subconscious mind had already accepted the inevitable. I started to feel like an intruder in someone else’s intimate space.
Desai's head lowered back into Meera, his lips plunging into her neck, and I saw him licking her throat with his wet tongue. I saw his right hand move under her body, supporting his weight on it. His other hand drifted downward, slipping between her parted legs, and he slid it inside her panty from the front. He was aiming for her centre, and Meera wasn’t ready for it; she flinched – not entirely resisting, but as if her body wasn’t sure whether to yield or fight. She grabbed Desai's hand before he could reach his targeted spot.
Desai pulled his hand back but gently grabbed Meera's hand, stretching her arm across the bed before turning to me.
"Hold her, Krish," he said quietly, his words more an invitation than a command. And he perhaps knew I would do anything at the moment. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have dared to demand such an action from me.
My heart stopped, but my body moved before I could think. I moved forward and sat on the bed and reached out, my fingers wrapping around Meera’s hand – warm, familiar, yet distant in a way that felt cold. She didn’t turn her eyes to me, but she knew of my presence, my touch.
Desai stretched her other hand to the opposite side with his right hand, making her lie fully open to his will. He lowered his face to her. This time, he didn’t go for her lips but instead brought his face to her right armpit, licking there at an unhurried, deliberate pace. Meera’s expression shifted between disbelief and surrender – she was caught in his act of utmost worship. She exhaled again as Desai licked her armpit once more.
“Susheel…” Meera giggled a little this time. “What are you doing?”
“Just tasting you a little bit,” Desai teased. “I wanted to do it the moment I saw you in this dress, baby.”
He licked again, and then soon shifted his oral worship back to her breasts.
 
But, unbeknownst to him – or at least, that’s what I thought at the time – there was something else happening. As Desai licked Meera’s armpit, Meera’s fingers had clasped mine, almost as a reflex. I felt a lightning bolt pass through my body, and it didn’t let go as Meera continued to hold my hand, even when Desai shifted his attention elsewhere.
The reality of the moment suddenly began to slip away from my mind.
 
After a few seconds, Desai slowly sat up on his knees. Unhurriedly, he pushed both hands under her dress and slid down her panty. Lifting her legs, he removed it completely, and with a casual flick of his wrist, he tossed it toward me. Instinctively, I leaned forward and caught it with my left hand. The fabric was soft, still carrying the warmth of Meera – or at least, that’s how it felt.
Desai’s action of throwing her panty to me seemed symbolic, as if he wasn’t just removing her clothes but peeling away the layers that had once tied her to me. Piece by piece, handing them back, as if returning borrowed memories.
Desai’s gaze met mine again. "This is going to be very intimate," he said and smiled at Meera, as if speaking to both of us. "And you are going to love this."
Without wasting any time, he spread her thighs and lowered his head between them. Her clothes shifted, and I caught a glimpse of her nicely shaved pussy before Desai’s mouth sealed its entrance. Meera let out a soft gasp, and her grip on my hand tightened. I, too, gripped her hand with care, as if she needed me for this.
After a few seconds, Desai lifted his mouth off her and used his fingers to spread her lips, then licked a certain spot.
"Mmm…" Meera moaned, her chest arching. Her other hand quickly grabbed Desai's hair as he kneaded her pleasure spot with his tongue. She pulled his hair a bit too harshly, it seemed, and Desai glanced up at me.
"Take it off, Krish," he said, touching her dress. "Help her get it off."
Meera, this time, looked up, and her eyes met mine. I felt I shouldn’t wait for a response from her. I moved closer and started removing the dress, pulling it upward. Surprisingly, Meera helped by lifting her torso slightly. As the dress was pulled, my hand subtly brushed against the softness of her breasts. A current passed through my body. A perverse thought suddenly overwhelmed me, and I found myself slowing down, making sure I felt over her breasts more than once.
As the dress was finally taken off, Meera was completely nude. She looked more perfect than ever, even from my upside-down view.
 
As Desai plunged his mouth again between her legs, I saw Meera letting out a gasp, her mouth opening and her eyes almost closing, but her gaze was fixed on me. She seemed pleased by my presence and touch, contrary to my expectations. I felt she, too, was deriving some discreet pleasure from this, allowing a stranger to intrude between her and her loving partner. Suddenly, it wasn’t just about what was happening between them; it was about what was unravelling within us.
Then, Desai looked up and saw her gaze, and he didn’t oppose.
'You can express your love for her, Krish,' he said calmly, then assured me, 'She belongs to both of us tonight.'
I was already on the verge, caught between the past and present, between letting go and holding on. The space between us had never felt smaller, yet the gap had never been wider. My gaze again met Meera’s, searching for something – hesitation, permission, resistance. And I couldn’t wait to find out.
I moved behind her head and bent down to kiss her. It was an upside-down kiss, with my nose touching her chin as our lips met. Meera responded softly at first, and then her lips opened. The greed to have more of what belonged to someone else was simply overwhelming me. I cupped her face with my hands and went on to deepen the kiss. Soon, I found her tongue touching mine, and I sucked it readily.
Just as I thought of pushing my tongue into her mouth, a muffled sound escaped her lips – something between a moan and a cry.
"Aaah…"
It took me a moment to understand why, and as I looked toward Desai, I saw that he had pushed his dick into her!
 
I was stunned by the manner in which he chose to claim the ultimate experience of owning Meera, right in front of me, just as she was momentarily warming up my feelings. I hadn’t even heard or noticed when Desai had lowered his pants as I got busy with the kiss. But he had not only done that; he had gotten into a perfect position between her legs and had shoved his full-size manhood into her in one smooth go, making Meera cry into my mouth.
 
I swallowed and watched as Desai pulled back and then pushed again.
"Aaah..." Meera let out another soft cry. She grabbed my hands, which I was still cupping her face.
“Kiss her more, Krish. She’s liking the fun. You can take off your shirt if you want.” Desai said, his voice charged with the pleasure and thrill of having his dick buried inside her tight pussy.
"No...aaah..." Meera gasped. But I had lost my will to listen. I lowered my head and kissed her. And this time, I kissed her with the intention to choke her with my maddened kiss. But Meera kept exhaling forcefully as Desai started moving in a rhythm. He had started to fuck her smoothly.
Her head was moving too much to be held onto my kiss, but I didn’t let her go. I grabbed her chin with my left hand and instinctively started caressing around her neck with my other hand. Soon, my hand traced the smooth skin beyond her neck and found the softness of her breasts. Her breasts were swaying as Desai's body hit her from the centre, and my fingers soon went searching for her tits.
Meera trembled beneath my touch, but she soon found her bearings in what was happening. She broke our kiss and whispered, “We have to stop, Krish.”
We.
The distant hint her words carried about the existence of such a term simply made me stay in the moment.
I didn’t stop.
Instead, I got up and pulled my shirt over my head, exactly like Desai had done earlier.
Then I bent down again to kiss her.
“Go on, man. You’re doing well,” I heard Desai's voice. I felt like I was imagining it.
“Krish… no…” Meera struggled under my kiss.
No. I am not imagining it.
Desai had urged me to go on.
I soon shifted my lips down to her neck and followed the path Desai had carved a few minutes ago to find the softness of her breasts. I licked the same spots Desai had teased and tasted. Meera's hands were trying to push me away, but her tits were becoming harder, making me believe that she was enjoying it. I knew she was enjoying it, though I could admit to myself that she needed to believe it.
“Meera,” I heard Desai's voice behind my head. “Tell Krish what’s left in your heart for him. Say it.”
“I still love you, Krish,” she whispered readily, her voice trembling. “I do.”
Her words hit me like a wave.
“But you’ll be in my bed tomorrow, baby.” Desai's voice broke my attention. I swallowed. “He’s right, baby…” I said. “You’ll be in his bed from tomorrow, Meera.”
Meera looked at me like she heard something she didn’t want to hear. Then she nodded. “But I’ll never forget you, Krish. Never.”
“I doubt that.” Desai chuckled. “You’ll forget,” he said, his voice low and confident. “I’ll fuck you hard enough to make sure of it.”
I twisted my head to try to look deep into Meera's eyes, my chest tight. “Won’t you love it?” I asked, my voice breaking. “Won’t you love getting fucked by him?”
She hesitated, then cried, “Yes… yes, I will.”
I nodded. “You belong to him now.”
As I said that, Meera wrapped her left arm around my neck to pull me down and kissed me fiercely.
“Yes,” she murmured against my lips, over and over. “Yes, yes, yes…”
Meera's voice rose dramatically, so did her breathing, and I knew from the way her whole body trembled that Desai had started to fuck her faster. Meera's eyes met mine again, glazed with pleasure but still holding a flicker of something deeper, something that felt like an apology, or maybe a farewell.
“Aaah… my Meera… my baby…” Desai's voice was charged with ecstasy. “This is so great… Just to fuck you like this… You’ll love fucking me from tomorrow. I’d like to be your slave… you know that, baby?”
“Aaah…please…” Meera spoke between her raised breathing. “Please don’t make me do this…Susheel…aaaah!”
“Come on, baby… he too deserves your love tonight. It’s okay. Give him some love.” And he paused for a moment to get my attention. “Lower your pants, Krish. Let her see it…”
I was stunned by his suggestion. I looked up, and he gave a few more thrusts into Meera, this time making her cry louder.
Then he paused. “You can move this side if you want,” he insisted again, pointing to Meera's right side. I wiped my face, attempting to check if this was really happening. I remembered sitting in the hall and holding a rum cocktail, but I couldn’t remember actually drinking it. Perhaps it had evaporated, or it had dissolved into my blood and sweat so deeply that I started to feel like I was the cocktail.
There was little I could do to control myself. I moved slowly at first to shift to Meera's right side, and then hurried to lower my pants – without even bothering to loosen the waist.

to be continued...

[krish_999]

Chapter 51 continues.

As soon as I slid my pants a few inches down from my waist, my throbbing erection – though concealed in my underwear – suddenly left me embarrassed, wondering if Meera would think I had fallen into Desai’s trap again, succumbing to his fantasies. But I thought that I was just a stranger, an external element introduced to heighten his mating game with his woman.

“Lower it, Krish,” Desai said again. “Let her see how excited you are to witness this. Let her see what she does to you.”
Before he finished, I had started to lower my underwear as well. My dick sprang free, throbbing and hard, a testament to the conflicting emotions swirling inside me. I quickly bent down and kissed Meera deeply, as if to reclaim her. Meera responded, her lips soft and yielding, her breath warm against mine.
Desai was watching us, and I heard his voice soon. “Meera,” he said, his voice low and coaxing. “Hold him. Touch him. He’s here for you. Let him feel your care.”
"Please... Susheel... no...." Meera's voice was a whisper as she went on, "I can’t believe… how this is all happening.”
Desai’s voice broke through the air, calm but commanding. “He’s still your husband, honey,” he said, his tone almost tender, as if reminding Meera of something she’d forgotten. His hand rested on her hip, possessive yet gentle, as he guided her attention toward me. “Show him some care.”
Meera’s eyes flickered to mine, and for a moment, the room seemed to shrink, the air thickening with unspoken tension. She hesitated, her lips parting slightly, but then she reached out, her fingers brushing against my thigh before wrapping around my hardening length. It sent a jolt of electricity through me. Her touch was tentative at first, but it quickly grew firmer, more deliberate, as she began to stroke me.
 
I bent down, drawn to her like a moth to a flame, and pressed my lips to hers. Meera responded immediately, her mouth opening to mine, her tongue meeting mine with a hunger that surprised me. Her saliva was sweet, intoxicating, and I lost myself in the taste of her, in the warmth of her body so close to mine. Her hand moved faster, her grip tightening as our kisses deepened, and I felt myself surrendering to the moment, to her.
"It feels like a dream. Am I in someone else's dream?" I heard Meera blurt.
Desai chuckled. “You’re in my dream, my dream girl,” he said, lifting her legs up in the air, and his hands gripping her hips as he began to move again in a slow steady rhythm.
Meera’s hand on me tightened, her strokes slowing down to match the pace of Desai’s thrusts, and I still I felt myself being pushed to an edge, caught between the physical pleasure of her touch and the emotional weight of the moment.
I leaned down to kiss her again, but this time, she was the one who pulled away, her head tilting back as another moan escaped her lips. “Aaaah…!” she cried, her body trembling beneath us both. Desai’s movement had begun to grow forceful, more urgent, and Meera’s cries filled the room, a symphony of pleasure and surrender.
I watched her, my heart pounding, my own release building as her hand continued to move. This was it – the moment I had both feared and longed for. The moment that would forever be etched into my memory, a final, unflinching glimpse of what I had lost.
After fucking Meera to the point where her grip on my dick faltered, Desai paused. He turned her knees to her right, the movement deliberate, and slapped her round ass with a sharp, echoing sound.
“This roundness,” he said, his voice low and appreciative, “will never stop exciting me.”
He bent down, pressing a kiss to the top of her ass cheek, his lips lingering for a moment before he straightened up.
 
Meera’s legs were turned to her right, but her torso and head remained facing upward. Desai guided himself back into her from behind, and as soon as he began thrusting, her whole body shook. The force of his movements turned her completely to her right, and now she was facing me.
Her eyes met mine, hazy but focused, and without hesitation, she reached out and took my dick in her hand again. Her touch was firm, almost possessive, as if she needed to hold onto something real amidst the chaos. Desai’s rhythm was relentless, each thrust sending tremors through her body, but Meera’s grip on me never loosened.
Meera was lost in the pleasure Desai was giving her, her body trembling with every powerful thrust. Desai was in complete control, dominating her with a rhythm that left her breathless and moaning. I watched, my own desire burning hotter, unable to stand by as just a spectator. I had given in too far to turn back now.
Slowly, I moved closer, my fingers threading through her hair as I gently guided her head toward me. Her lips parted, and I pushed my dick into her mouth, inch by inch, careful not to overwhelm her. The warmth of her mouth sent a shiver through me, and I couldn’t help but groan.
 
Desai, caught off guard, stopped mid-thrust, his eyes widening as he watched me take control. For a moment, the room was silent except for Meera’s muffled sounds and the heavy breathing of all three of us. Desai’s expression shifted from surprise to something darker, more intense, as he realized what was happening.
Meera’s eyes flickered up to mine, hazy but aware, and she didn’t resist. Instead, she began to move her lips, taking me deeper, her hands gripping my thighs for balance.
“Wow. That’s some stuff,” Desai said, his voice low and appreciative, before he started fucking her again. His thrusts were powerful, deliberate, each one driving Meera closer to the edge. Her movements lost their balance, her body trembling under the force of his rhythm, but I was determined not to turn back now. I held her head firmly; my fingers tangled in her hair, and began to move my hips, thrusting into her mouth with a steady pace.
Soon, our movements fell into sync – Desai pounding into her from behind while I claimed her mouth, our rhythms merging into a single, relentless force. My thrusts were less forceful compared to Desai’s powerful blows, but they were no less insistent. Meera’s body writhed between us, her moans muffled but unmistakable, her hands gripping my thighs for support.
 
Desai’s hands roamed her body, caressing her skin with a possessiveness that was impossible to ignore. A couple of times, he reached around to squeeze her breasts, his touch firm and demanding. It felt like he was determined to utilize this opportunity to its fullest, to push Meera beyond her own limits. He wasn’t just fucking her; he was unravelling her, pulling out a side of her she might not have even known existed.
It was as if he wanted to awaken a demon within her, to transform her into the sexual property he desired – a woman so consumed by pleasure and submission that I would never stand a chance of reclaiming her. His every touch, every thrust, was calculated to break down her inhibitions, to make her his in every way possible.
Meera’s body responded to both of us, her moans growing louder, her movements more desperate. She was caught between us, her pleasure building to a crescendo, and I could feel the tension in the room reaching its peak. Desai’s eyes met mine over her trembling form, and in that moment, I knew this wasn’t just about pleasure – it was about possession, about dominance, about ensuring that Meera would never be the same again.
And as I thrust into her mouth, my own release building, I couldn’t help but wonder if this was what Desai had wanted all along – to push her beyond her own understanding, to make her his in a way that was irreversible.
 
Desai stopped fucking her abruptly, pulling out with a deliberate slowness that left Meera gasping. He shifted his attention to her legs, kissing along her thighs with a tenderness that contrasted sharply with the intensity of what had just happened. Meera lay sideways, her body still trembling, as I continued to thrust into her mouth, my hands gripping her hair to keep her steady.
Desai’s voice broke through the heavy silence, low and teasing. “She’s making me jealous,” he said, his eyes flickering to mine. “I want to be you, Krish.”
 
I withdrew from Meera’s mouth, my breath ragged, and Desai immediately took my place. He leaned down, capturing her lips in a deep, possessive kiss before pulling back just enough to speak.
“You’re the hottest woman I’ve ever seen in my life,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. Then, without warning, he shoved his dick into her throat, his movements rough and demanding. I was stunned by the urgent manner in which he kissed her mouth, despite knowing that her mouth was stuffed by my dick moments ago. I could tell he even got the taste of my precum from her lips. He was completely overwhelmed by lust.
As Desai claimed her mouth, I moved behind her, taking his previous position. I guided myself into her pussy, and my dick slid into her wet hole. I knew the warmth inside her was not just her, but the feel of Desai's precum. My thrusts slow at first but quickly growing more urgent. Meera was lying sideways, her head held firmly by Desai, leaving her unable to object or resist. Her body responded instinctively, her moans muffled by Desai’s relentless pace.
To my surprise, I couldn’t hold back any longer. The combination of her warmth, the intensity of the moment, and the weight of everything we’d been through overwhelmed me. I came inside her, a heavy, almost liberating release that left me breathless. I didn’t make a sound, didn’t let on what had happened – I simply let the pleasure wash over me, my frustration and longing spilling out in that single, silent moment.
 
Desai, still fucking her mouth, seemed oblivious – or perhaps he simply didn’t care. His voice was low and possessive as he spoke between thrusts. “We’re going to be wild, together, Meera,” he said, his tone leaving no room for doubt. “You and I – this is just the beginning.”
Meera’s body trembled between us, her moans growing louder, more desperate. She was completely at our mercy, caught in a whirlwind of pleasure and submission.
Meera suddenly let out a sharp, unrestrained moan, her body arching as she came. The waves of pleasure seemed to consume her, her trembling hands gripping the sheets as she rode it out. Desai noticed immediately, his eyes darkening with satisfaction. “You’ve come, baby,” he said, his voice a mix of awe and possessiveness. “Wow.”
He pulled out of her mouth, his breath heavy, and began jerking himself furiously. Within moments, he shot a thick load onto her face, the warmth splattering across her skin. Some drops fell into her gasping mouth, and Desai’s voice was low and commanding as he said, “Swallow it, baby. Swallow the taste. This is my love. Swallow it.”
Meera, still catching her breath, obeyed instinctively, her tongue flicking out to taste him. The sight was both intimate and degrading, a stark reminder of the power Desai held over her. Once the cum bath ended, I pulled out of her, my own body spent and trembling. Desai took a moment to catch his breath, his chest rising and falling as he watched Meera with a satisfied smirk. I felt he was waiting for her to wipe clean her face so that he could kiss her again. Then I felt that he was just watching her cum-drenched face.
 
Meera sat up slowly with shaky movements and a face still glistening. Her eyes were wide with a mix of exhaustion and something deeper that felt like resignation or maybe acceptance. The room was silent except for our heavy breathing as the weight of what had just happened settled over us like a thick fog.
Meera sat up abruptly and I saw the shock on her face. Cum drops from her cheeks oozed down onto her breasts. She reached for her crumpled dress on the bed and quickly wiped her face with it. Then she looked at Desai and me alternately, her eyes suddenly burning with a fury that could have set the room ablaze.
 
Before I could say a word, she jumped out of the bed and nearly ran to the washroom. She didn’t bother to close the door, and soon the sound of the shower running filled the silence. I stood there frozen with a sinking feeling in my chest. Something was wrong. Terribly wrong.
 
Desai, however, seemed unfazed. He casually rubbed his dick, a satisfied grin spreading across his face. “It’s a wonderful beginning, isn’t it?” he asked, his tone dripping with pride.
I stared at him, my voice trembling. “I think she didn’t like it.”
Desai’s grin faltered for a moment, but before he could respond, Meera stormed out of the washroom. She had a towel wrapped tightly around her body, her hair damp and her eyes blazing. Desai quickly turned his attention to her, his voice softening. “Come back, honey. We’re not done yet.”
“Not done?” Meera shouted, her voice shaking with anger. “But I’m done, Desai! I’m done with you!”
My heart sank as I heard her use his surname for the first time that night. The familiarity was gone, replaced by a cold, cutting formality.
She turned to me, her eyes narrowing. “Get dressed and get out of this room, Krish,” she yelled. At the same time, she picked up Desai’s clothes from the floor and hurled them at him. “Is this your so-called love, Desai?” her voice trembled with rage and hurt.
Desai was now stunned. The confidence that I saw on his face a moment ago was shattered. He opened his mouth to speak, but Meera cut him off.
“What are you staring at?” she shouted, pulling his arm and forcing him out of the bed. I couldn’t help but notice how Meera was completely ignorant of the fact that she was still naked, and her breasts were juggling as she moved around the room, getting physical. Me and Desai had somehow managed to pull up our pants. But it was the last thing to be mattered at the moment.
I had already moved out of the bed, and Meera pushed both of us out of the room, slamming the door behind us.
 
Everything was happening too fast. Behind the closed door, I heard Meera crying, loud and unrestrained. She cursed Desai, then herself, her voice breaking with every word. I knocked on the door, my voice pleading.
“Open the door, Meera. Please.”
Desai knocked too, his tone desperate. “Open the door, Meera. I can explain.”
After a moment, the door flew open. Meera stood there, now wrapped in a towel, her face streaked with tears. And she grabbed Desai's hand and placed something on it. It was the necklace.
“Leave,” she said to Desai, her voice cold.
And she walked past us, heading straight to our bedroom, with both of us trailing behind her like shadows.
 
In the bedroom, she went straight to her wardrobe and pulled out some clothes. She turned to us, her eyes blazing.
“I’m done with both of you fuckers,” she shouted again. “I’m done with this life with you. I’m done with the friendship with you, Susheel fucking Desai.”
She turned to me, her voice shaking with fury. “You fucker, Krish. You said you weren’t good for me because you’d make me fuck other men. You said this moron would be the one for me.” She pointed at Desai as she spoke; her words cutting like a knife. “And what did he just do? He watched me get fucked by you! He made himself a cuckold on the same night he came to propose to me! Can you imagine what I’m going to end up as? A woman with a queue of men outside her room, all waiting for their chance to fuck me. Is that what you want for me? Is that what you’ve gloriously chosen for me?”
Her voice broke, and she wiped her tears angrily. “Now I understand what Ananya told us. You have it in you, Susheel... This adventure shit – it’s in you. You may believe I’m the one for you, but I believe you’re no better than Krish. You’re two sides of the same coin. Equal in weight. Equal in value. Equal in your twisted fantasies. And I’m not going to be a victim of your games anymore. I want to end it, damn it! Oh my God, what have I become?”
Meera broke down, her sobs echoing through the room. Desai and I stood there, speechless, the weight of her words crushing us. The night had spiralled out of control, and there was no going back.
 
I knew I had gotten carried away, swept up in the heat of the moment, and had become an accomplice in fulfilling Desai’s fantasy. Unknowingly, I had let things spiral far beyond any semblance of sense or control. The fact that we were all heavily drunk when it happened offered no excuse – the booze had evaporated, leaving behind only the harsh reality of our actions.
 
Desai, however, tried to defend himself, his voice pleading.
“It happened by mistake, Meera. I got carried away. I’m sorry. Please, let me talk to you..”
Meera’s voice softened a little but it was because she was tired. “I got carried away too, you dumbass. But I’m not talking about tonight. I’m talking about the future, Desai.” She paused to finish wearing the top and skirt, and walked over to us.  “Believe me, Susheel. Please. You’ll end up getting carried away again and again. I’ve lived it already. I can look back now and see the signs – they were always there. You were always excited to play Krish in my bed. You were excited to be Krish. You were thrilled by the idea that he was a cuckold, a happy one. You always said we were a special couple, didn’t you? And today, you let him fuck me because you wanted to sell the idea that you too are okay with me being with another man. That’s it. You didn’t want me to think I’d become a chaste woman overnight. You wanted me to be the woman who could fuck other men and still be yours. Isn’t that what you want?”
Desai stammered, “I… I… didn’t mean any of it, Meera. I swear.”
But Meera wasn’t buying it. “You’re not realizing what you’ve done, Desai. You said you love me as a person. I want you to take a moment to think about what you’ve done. Just a minute of thinking would do. Think about your future. You’re not going to stop. Think about it and ask yourself if you’re going to stop. No, you won’t, Desai. You and I are not made for each other. Like Krish, you too deserve a woman who has the determination to say no to you when you come up with fantasies like this. If you don’t want such a partner, then go find someone else. I don’t want to be that partner.”
Her words were like a hammer, each one striking with precision and finality. As she went back to sit on the bed, Desai stood there in stunned silence, his usual confidence evaporating with time. He had no idea how to defend himself. Meera’s clarity in her allegations left had him speechless.
 
The room felt heavy, the air thick with unspoken regrets and the weight of irreversible decisions. I stood there, my own guilt gnawing at me, knowing I had played my part in this mess. Meera’s tears had dried, replaced by a steely determination that left no room for negotiation.
I stepped forward, my voice trembling as I apologized. “I’m sorry, Meera. I got carried away too. I didn’t have the wisdom to understand what I was doing. Maybe… maybe I was tired of the idea of you being with someone else. That’s why I chose him for you. But then… I couldn’t stop myself. It’s one thing that Desai allowed me to join him, but I was the one who took the opportunity. Like I was waiting for it. I know it doesn’t make sense now, but I’m just being honest.”
Meera’s eyes turned to me coldly. “I’m moving out of your life, Krish,” she said. “Just like you wanted.” She got up and walked closer, her presence commanding, and both Desai and I instinctively stepped back. “Get out of this room. Now.”
 
Desai and I exchanged a glance, but neither of us argued. We moved toward the door, our steps heavy with guilt and regret. Meera followed us, her gaze unwavering, and pushed us out of the bedroom before slamming the door shut. The sound echoed through the house, a final, deafening punctuation to the night’s chaos.
 
But then, just as quickly, the door reopened. Meera stood there.
“I’m leaving in the morning, Krish,” she said, her voice firm. “Don’t try to come after me.” With that, she slammed the door again.
 
Desai and I stood in the hall, the weight of what had just happened pressing down on us. Desai broke the silence first, his voice hollow.
“I messed it up. Big time.”
He reached for the glass on the table, but kept it back as he found it was empty. He grabbed the rum bottle and poured some into the glass. But he didn’t drink it. Instead, he held the glass in his hand, staring at the liquid as if it held some kind of answer. After a long moment, he placed it back on the table, untouched.
 
The house was silent except ticking sound of the wall clock. Desai and I stood there, two men brought low by their own recklessness.
Desai leaned against the wall, his voice hollow yet eerily calm. “Perhaps Meera is right, Krish.” He paused, staring at the floor. “She opened my eyes – again. All these fantasies, the kinks, the dominance… they twisted me into something I didn’t recognize.” He laughed bitterly. “That night I let my friend fuck Ananya… I was thrilled. I treated her like property, like I owned her enough to loan her out. Watching her with him… it wasn’t jealousy. It was power. And tonight?” He glanced at Meera’s closed door. “When I saw her dancing with you, I wasn’t jealous of you. I wanted to be you – Krish, the cuckold, the man who gets off on his wife’s pleasure with others. Pathetic, right?”
His words were sharp and self-loathing. “That wedding night, after you left… she came to my room. I am not sure if she has told you about it… but I think there’s no point in not talking about it. That night we had sex. During sex I was so excited from the effect of having watched her dancing with you at the wedding that I asked Meera to pretend like I was you. Not because I wanted her love – because I wanted to be the man she’d return to, even after fucking someone like me. Meera saw through it. She always does.” Desai’s voice softened. I could see he was broken from inside. As much as I was. “She’s right. I’d ruin her. Just like I ruined Ananya. For me, this is a game – the thrill of control, the rush of sharing. But for her? It’s hell. You know that hell. I can’t drag her into it again.”
He turned to me, “Loving her means letting her go. You tried to protect her by leaving. I have to do the same. Because if she stays… I’ll break her. And I can’t live with that.”
Desai shook his head and again knocked on Meera’s door, “Meera… I understand. I’m sorry.” His voice was trembling.
 
The door opened after a pause. Meera stood there, her face stripped of makeup and dried tears. She looked exhausted. “Go to sleep, Desai, Call it a day, please.” she said softly, no anger left in her voice.
Desai opened his mouth to say something, but she shook her head. “Sleep. We’re done.”
But she did not close the door. She waited.
Desai hesitated, and then nodded at her. He turned to nod at me too, and then proceeded to the other bedroom.
 
I stayed there, not knowing what to do. The only thing that held me together was that I was perhaps I was ready for worst already. But I wasn’t devoid of weight of guilt. Meera’s gaze turned to me, her expression unreadable. Without a word, she closed the door.
 
I slowly returned to the room. I looked at the bed, it was not much of a mess that I used to witness in the past after Desai and Meera's love making. But psychologically, the whole room was a mess. I stared at the bed for some time and then returned to the hall. I settled into the couch to call it a day, finally, though having no idea about what was about to follow in the morning.
 
When I woke up, the house felt different – emptier, quieter. Meera was already in the living room, her bag packed and waiting by the door. She stood there, her face calm but resolute, as if she had already made peace with her decision.
“I’m moving out,” she said, her voice steady but soft.
I sat up, my head still heavy from the night before. “Meera, I only wanted you to have a better life,” I said, my voice cracking. “But it all went so wrong. I’m sorry.”
She looked at me, her eyes searching mine. “I want to forgive you, Krish,” she said after a moment. “Because you helped me see Desai’s true colours. But I’m still angry – about everything else.”
Desai walked in then, and he looked at Meera with a sense of calmness in his eyes. “I’m sorry, Meera,” he said quietly. “I didn’t recognize the change in me. I might die single, but I won’t cross your path ever again.”
Meera nodded, her expression softening just a little.
“Thank you, Desai,” she said. “That’s all I needed to hear.”
Desai turned to me next, “Krish, I owe you an apology too,” he said. “Even though I didn’t get Meera in the end, I’ll always be inspired by the sacrifice you made for her. My promise to you remains the same for the rest of my life. Make a wish, and I’ll do everything in my power to make it happen.”
I shook my head. “You understanding what Meera said… it shows you’ve truly changed. I got carried away last night too, and it helped me see the danger of being in Meera’s life. As much as I love her, I need to let her live a peaceful life.” And I turned to Meera, “I think not you, it should be me, moving out of this house.”
“No, Krish,” Meera said quickly. “I know you volunteered to move out of my life. But I’m the one who needs to go. I’ve decided to move to Alpine Heights.”
 
She had made her final decision. She called a cab, and within minutes, it was waiting outside. She picked up her bag and turned to us one last time.
“Take care of yourselves,” she said coldly.
And then she was gone.
 
I sat on the couch, not knowing what to talk to Desai.
He stood there in silence for a long moment. And then he spoke.
“Meera has opened my eyes,” Desai told me, staring at the floor as he continued. “I never saw Ananya for a reason, Krish. Because it was me who made her sleep with my friend. My friend wanted to sleep with her, and I promised him that I would let him. And I did. I thought Ananya would enjoy it. She did, to some extent. But I’m sure she regretted it. That thought kept me from meeting her afterward.
Samarth, her husband, never enjoyed the feeling of being cuckolded. You and Meera were different. And I saw that as one of the many qualities that made Meera special. The bond you two had—I wanted that too. If she were to join me, I know I would have made her sleep with men of my choosing. And she wouldn’t regret it. I wouldn’t want her to regret it—that’s the point.”
I recalled his words again.
“I don’t know if you remember this, but you once told me that a cuckold becomes the winner when he forgives his wife and accepts her back after she’s been fucked by another man,” I said. “Looks like you sold me an idea but ended up buying it for yourself too.”
Desai shook his head. “I don’t know when this happened, Krish. I have become you. Meera was right.”
The silence prevailed between us and finally it was him who broke it. “I should go too,” he said, pulling out his phone to call a cab.
 
We didn’t say much as we waited for his ride. When it arrived, he turned to me, his hand extended. “Take care, Krish,” he said.
I shook his hand, nodding. “You too, Desai.”
I was not sure where he was heading. Shimoga. Mumbai. Or anywhere else. I didn’t care.
 
I sat in silence in my house and I kept reminding myself one thing. Meera was right. There was nothing debatable about her decision.
I spent the rest of the day alone, the house eerily quiet without Meera’s presence. The silence gave me space to think, to reflect on everything that had happened. Strangely, I felt calm. Perhaps I thought the worst was over.
 
Though Meera’s outburst had felt like hell in the moment, I realized it was necessary. It was the breaking point we all needed to finally see the truth about ourselves. Meera, Desai, and I – we had all been chasing something, trying to fit into roles we thought we were supposed to play. But the last night had stripped away the illusions. We had finally seen who we really were.
I sat by the window, staring outside to the sky, and let my thoughts wander. No matter how hard you try to learn about yourself, nothing can beat the lessons life teaches you. My life had been filled with experiments and experiences – some thrilling, some painful – all in the pursuit of understanding myself and Meera. But in the end, it wasn’t the experiments that taught me the truth. It was life itself.
I am a cuckold. There’s no denying it. It’s a part of me, a characteristic that has shaped so much of my life. But now, it’s time to put that part of me to sleep. I’ve lived that life. I’ve felt its highs and its crushing lows. And now, I’ve come to the end of it.
The last time Meera left me, I was consumed by a sense of loss. It felt like a piece of me had been ripped away, leaving behind a void I didn’t know how to fill. But this time was different. This time, there was peace. Meera was at peace with her decision. Desai was at peace with his. And, for the first time in a long time, I was at peace too.
I realized that love doesn’t always mean holding on. Sometimes, it means letting go – letting the people you care about find their own paths, even if it means walking away from yours. Meera deserved a life free from the chaos I had brought into it. Desai deserved a chance to grow, to become the man he was meant to be. And I? I deserved the chance to start over, to find a new version of myself – one that wasn’t defined by the fantasies of the past.
 
The days after the anniversary were calm, almost unnervingly so. I needed to move on and find a reason to help me move on. I googled a few pilgrimage spots away from Pune and decided on Varanasi. After booking a ticket on the earliest available flight, I packed a small bag. I chose not to bring my phone. The last call I made was to Nidhi.
I told her that I was taking a few weeks off for a long journey. I wouldn’t be available until I returned, but I didn’t know when. “Until then, please go and sit in my chair.”
Nidhi asked about Meera. I said she’s fine.
Nidhi asked if Meera would be there to manage the firm. I said she would be busy with her own work.
"That's why I said you should take care of it. I know you can do it, Nidhi."
Just as I was about to end the conversation, Nidhi stopped me. "Krish...Krish..."
"Yes?"
“You said you won’t be available for long. Can we meet before you go? I mean…”
Nidhi’s beautiful face and the affection she had for me came to my mind.
“No, Nidhi. That’s not needed. You’ll do well without me,” I said and ended the phone call.
 
I left my phone at home before heading to the airport. I didn’t need it. There were no messages to send, no apologies left unsaid – just the weight of my own thoughts and the open road or sky. I placed a note on my table, saying I would be away for a while – in case Meera thought about me and worried about my whereabouts.
That evening, I boarded the flight to Varanasi.
 
The city of Varanasi was full of noise. Temple bells kept ringing, and the air was filled with incense. I stayed in a small guesthouse near Assi Ghat and spent my days walking by the river. After a few days, I left for another ghat. I watched funerals and death rituals being held, with burning pyres in the river. I visited many temples, listening to prayers. I finally reached Kashi Vishwanath, and there I bowed my head – not to pray, but to let go. One evening, on a boat ride, an old boatman ran his fingers through his thick beard and said, “Everything burns here, sir; only the ashes remain.”
I kept roaming around the city. I did not find peace, but I felt something change inside me, and I felt like maybe that was enough.
One morning, I took a dip in the cold water of the Ganges. On the banks, I watched many sages with matted hair and deep eyes – both men and women – sitting in silence.
I wondered what they had left behind. Families? Regrets? Or just their very existence?
The thought compelled me to reflect on what I had come to leave behind.
Why did I push Meera away?
The question followed me like a shadow. I had told myself that it would give Meera a better life, freedom from the chaos I would never stop bringing into her life. But as I sat on the steps of Varanasi, watching devotees light lamps for the dead, I couldn’t help but question if I did it for Meera or for myself.
I wasn’t a man chasing spirituality. The remorse was going to hit me quietly, and the impact never seemed to quiet me.
Memories were returning. Meera's happy face in our happy times. Her laughter. Her busy hands in the kitchen. Her furious eyes when I refused to rethink my decision to separate.
I felt I was carrying a sense of sacrifice, and I felt I was wrong. It was cowardice. Maybe I was the sage who ran – not toward truth, but away from it.
One evening, an old monk sat beside me at a temple in Rishikesh. He didn’t speak, just offered a bowl of rice and lentils. As we ate, he pointed to a couple arguing near the river – a young man and woman, their voices and gestures frantic. The monk smiled. “Love is not a quiet river,” he said in Hindi. “It is the storm that shapes the mountains.”
I thought of Meera then – not as the woman I had lost, but as the storm I’d refused to endure.
 
I returned home after a month, my mind clearer but my heart still heavy. I turned on the phone but didn’t call Meera. I wanted to see her. I didn’t want to be denied over the phone. I drove myself to her apartment in Alpine Heights. When I reached Meera's place, I saw the house was locked, and suddenly, my head filled with fear. I thought of Desai. I wondered if he had come back for her and mended their differences. The thought felt like an ache.
I phoned Meera, but it went unanswered. I wondered if I should call Desai, but then decided to call Nidhi instead.
She asked me if I had returned. She was happy when I said yes. And she revealed that Meera had called her many times in the past few weeks, asking for any news about me.
I was sure Meera had something to tell me. And I didn’t know if it was good or bad.
My heart was already beating faster at the thought of it.
“I have some personal news to tell you, Krish,” Nidhi said. “I’m getting married.”
“Oh, really? That was quick!” I said, then added, “Congratulations, Nidhi!”
She revealed that Parvati had found a man for her through a matrimonial website.
“Matrimonial website? Don’t mind, but it feels kinda strange to me,” I said.
Nidhi laughed. “Even I am feeling the same. But somehow, it happened. I thought I shouldn’t make Mom worry about me. Apart from that, you know, I liked the boy.”
I could sense her happiness from her voice. She invited me to the engagement, scheduled for a month later.
 
As soon as the phone call ended, I heard a sound from behind.
“Krish!”
I turned, and Meera was standing there in a warm yellow gown. She looked as beautiful as ever. But her eyes were blazing, and before I could say a word, she stepped closer and slapped me.
“Where the fuck were you, Krish?” she shouted, her voice trembling with anger and something else I couldn’t quite place.
“I was on a pilgrimage,” I said, rubbing my cheek. “I needed time to think.”
“Fuck your pilgrimage!” she snapped. “You could’ve at least taken your phone. Do you have any idea how much I’ve tried to reach you?”
“What happened?” I asked, my stomach twisting with dread.
She took a deep breath. “I’m pregnant.”
The words hit me like a thunderbolt. I stared at her, stunned. “How?”
Meera stared back at me. “You don’t remember?”
 
The memory of the anniversary night flashed in my mind – the heat of the moment, the recklessness, the release. I had ejaculated inside her. I hadn’t thought about the consequences then, but now they were staring me in the face.
 
“I wanted to tell you first,” Meera said, her voice breaking. “Before anyone else.”
I swallowed hard, my mind racing. “This is… incredible news, Meera. But I’m not sure what you think about it. Is it too late for us?”
She shook her head, tears spilling down her cheeks. “I’m keeping it, Krish. I knew I was going to be pregnant from the first day. Because I love you, Krish. I’m not here to disrupt your peaceful life if that’s what you want. But I needed you to know. This is your child.”
Her words shattered the walls I’d built around my heart. “Meera,” I said, my voice trembling, “I’ve never stopped loving you. I never abandoned you. I pushed you away because I thought it would give you peace. But this… this changes everything.” My vision blurred as tears filled my eyes. I went on, “You know… the idea of being a parent, of being parents together… we can do it, can’t we? It makes me want to embrace you again. Meera, be my love once more. I love you.”
Meera’s hands trembled as she cupped my face, her tears warm against my skin. “You idiot,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “You don’t get to decide what peace is for me. We decide. Together.”
 
Her words were delivered directly into my heart. And I could sense them unravelling something in me – a knot of guilt and fear I had been carrying for more than a month. I pulled Meera close, tucked my fingers deep into her hair, and pressed my lips to her forehead. I could smell the aroma of her shampoo.
“I’m sorry,” I murmured into her shoulder. “For everything.”
She leaned back for a moment. “You don’t get to run anymore, Krish. Not from me. And certainly not from this.” Her hand drifted to her stomach.
“I won’t,” I promised, and I kissed her. She opened her lips and welcomed me.
We stood just outside her door, kissing madly. We stopped as we heard a footstep. A woman in her forties had stepped out of her flat.
Meera smiled at her. “My husband.”
The woman smiled back at Meera, shyly.
“Come,” Meera invited me into her house.
As I entered, I quickly noticed that the whole house had been repainted. I stood there, watching it. It felt nothing like what I had seen last time. A whole new world. New furniture. Houseplants. Mats. Flower vases. It looked like a house full of life.
 
Meera turned to me, her eyes teasing. I dropped my bag on the floor and embraced her. Our lips met for quick sharing of warmth.
As the kiss ended, Meera smiled with a sigh of relief. “I thought I lost you, baby,” she whispered. “Promise me you’ll never leave me.”
The respite in her eyes told me she had never stopped loving me.
“I promise, baby.” The words flew from my heart.
She threw her arms around my neck. I lifted her, putting my arms around her butt, and hurriedly entered the bedroom. The room was painted in soft blue, replacing the old memories.
“Why the blue?” I asked.
She smiled. “It’s the colour of the sky after a storm. A never-lost hope for a new beginning.”
I saw love in her eyes. And I kissed her – slow and deliberate – a promise sealed without words. Then, I let her sit on the bed carefully. She knew my carefulness.
“I’m okay,” she said. That was how she welcomed me back into her bed.
I climbed onto the bed, and we made love slowly. As I pushed my dick into her, fucking her slowly and deliberately, her eyes remained on me, as if she didn’t want to lose me even for a moment.
As we lay spent on the bed, I asked her what she would have done if I hadn’t come back.
“I would have still kept the baby,” she said readily.
“And Desai?” I asked again.
“Who’s that?” Meera asked with a smile.
 
In the weeks that followed, we didn’t speak of Desai or the past. And he didn’t contact us. But one day, I decided to call him and share the news of Meera's pregnancy. He congratulated me. And he said he meant it.
We didn’t speak much, but from the way he sounded, I felt he was at peace. I was sure he would have felt the same about me.
 
One day, I got a call from Maithrei. She wanted to discuss providing security services for her new apartment building in the city. She said she had been too busy with it to get in touch with me until she really needed me. I promised that we could work it out. I said sending her manager to my office would do.
When I revealed that Meera was pregnant, she congratulated me.
“New responsibility. New Krish?” she asked.
I waited for a moment and then said, “Yes.”
 
One evening, as we sat on the balcony floor, Meera asked me about the gods in the temples of Varanasi. I tried to recollect, but I couldn’t answer.
Meera stared at me with suspicion.
“Did you really go there and spend a month?”
I gave her a blank look and rolled my eyes with a sheepish smile.
“To be honest,” I said, “I hardly thought about anything other than you the whole month.”
“I can tell that.”
Meera laughed, and then wrapped my arm around her. We watched the sunset as she leaned her head against my shoulder.
“Krish,” she asked, “do you think we’ll mess it up again?”
I intertwined my fingers with hers, our palms pressed together like a bond.
“Probably,” I said, looking into her eyes. “But we’ll fix it. Together.”
Meera took my hand and placed it on her belly under her top. I thought she was trying to make me feel the baby kicking.
“The movements start after four months, baby,” I said. “I Googled it.”
“So you’re curious about it,” Meera smiled. “As curious as I am.”
I smiled. “Yes.”
Some stories end. Ours simply turned the page.
 

====THE END====

[bineeshm]

Wow you made us wait.... Thanks for posting the final episode Krish. I'll read now along with others & look forward for the analysis from our friends here.

[Asish]

The bullshit ending like last time. She gets fucked she gets angry she gets pregnant