Meera - The new Teacher

[Hotyyhard]

please continue

[balamurali]

Give me the feedback (either here in the comments or in DMs) so that I know how you are liking the progression of the story

The story plot is very good the characters are very good the way you take the story is very good slow and templting. But it lags one inportant aspect even after more than 35 updates it does not make anyone cum. You can include few hot incidents in the story that waterfall plot was perfect plot but nothing happend there some dress drop or dress changing some humilation might have been added there or small touches some small templng incidents is needed in the story. The last post was good like conversation between the students commmenting about teacher. Take story to next level bro more than 35 posts but in same level makes little bour.

[redarc]

The story plot is very good the characters are very good the way you take the story is very good slow and templting. But it lags one inportant aspect even after more than 35 updates it does not make anyone cum. You can include few hot incidents in the story that waterfall plot was perfect plot but nothing happend there some dress drop or dress changing some humilation might have been added there or small touches some small templng incidents is needed in the story. The last post was good like conversation between the students commmenting about teacher. Take story to next level bro more than 35 posts but in same level makes little bour.

Exactly, but i also want to add more, like the dedication arjun showing in staring her teacher, a normal person would have felt that, and you are showing meera doesn't feel those stares... can't possible ... you can try in real.... you get to know... so meera should have felt and get interested in arjun by now thats body natural reaction

[rp7575]

Bhai Aise Tod Tod Ke Update Mat Dalo 3 update ek sath karke dalo maja aayega

[shamson9571]

Episode 46: The Weight of Awe

The days following the Ranga Falls trip blurred into routine at St. Mark’s, but for Arjun, normalcy was a façade. Meera’s presence in the classroom—her green saree, her half-sleeve blouse, her calm voice—carried the weight of the trip, the dream, the stolen photo. The image on his phone, Meera leaning against the tree in her black saree, arm raised, was a dangerous secret, a piece of her he could revisit in private. But it was also a growing burden, a reminder of the line he’d crossed. He told himself to delete it, to let it go, but the pull of her was too strong.

The Classroom – A Flicker of Suspicion

It was Wednesday, math class, and Meera stood at the front, explaining quadratic equations with her usual precision. She wore a maroon saree today, the silk catching the light softly, paired with a half-sleeve blouse that covered her arms, her hair tied in a neat bun. The saree’s pleats sat modestly at her waist, but Arjun’s eyes lingered, seeing the black saree from the falls, the moment the breeze lifted her pallu to reveal her navel. His notebook lay empty, his pen untouched, his mind lost in her.

Meera had noticed Arjun’s distraction since the trip. His gazes lingered too long, his responses in class hesitant, his focus absent. She’d attributed it to the excitement of the trip, perhaps teenage restlessness, but today, his intensity felt heavier, more pointed. She kept her expression neutral, her voice steady, but a quiet unease stirred in her.

“Arjun,” she called, pausing her explanation, her tone firm but kind. “Can you solve this equation on the board?”

The class turned to him, and Arjun jolted upright, his face flushing. “Uh, yeah, sure,” he mumbled, standing and walking to the board, his heart racing. Her voice, her eyes on him—it was overwhelming. His mind flickered to the dream, to Meera trembling under Priya’s kisses, to the photo in his phone. He fumbled with the chalk, solving the equation but missing a step, his handwriting uneven.

Meera corrected him gently. “Pay attention, Arjun,” she said, her voice professional but with a trace of concern. “You’re usually more focused.”

He nodded, avoiding her gaze, and returned to his seat, his phone a heavy weight in his pocket. Her words, her closeness, made him feel exposed, as if she could sense the secret he carried.

The Catalyst – A Moment of Carelessness

The incident happened during lunch break. The classroom was mostly empty, students scattered across the campus. Meera had stayed behind, organizing worksheets at her desk, her maroon saree neatly dbangd, her bangles clinking softly. Arjun lingered at his desk, pretending to pack his bag, stealing glances at her, his mind replaying the falls, the dream, the photo.

His friends, Rahul and Vikram, were at the back, joking loudly about the trip. “Yo, Arjun, you got any good photos from the falls?” Vikram called, scrolling through his phone. “I got some epic ones of the water fight.”

Arjun shrugged, his heart skipping. “Yeah, a couple,” he said, keeping his tone casual, but his hand instinctively touched his pocket, where the photo of Meera hid.

“Show us,” Rahul teased, grinning. “Bet you got something spicy, the way you were zoned out half the trip.”

Arjun’s face heated, and he forced a laugh. “Shut up, man. Nothing like that.”

But their teasing hit a nerve, and in a moment of flustered bravado, he pulled out his phone, intending to show a safe group photo to deflect them. His thumb scrolled through the gallery, but his nerves betrayed him. The phone slipped from his hand, landing face-up on his desk with a soft thud, the screen open to the photo of Meera—leaning against the tree, arm raised, black saree taut, her pose striking and intimate.

Rahul’s eyes widened, and Vikram let out a low whistle. “Damn, dude. When did you take that?”

Arjun grabbed the phone, his face burning, shoving it into his pocket. “It’s nothing,” he snapped, his voice low. “Just a random shot.”

“Random?” Rahul smirked. “That’s some next-level stalking, man.”

“Keep it down,” Arjun hissed, glancing toward Meera, his pulse racing. He thought she hadn’t noticed, her head still bent over her papers, but he was wrong.

Meera had heard the commotion, her eyes lifting just in time to catch the flash of the phone screen before Arjun snatched it away. The image was brief, but unmistakable—herself, posing at the falls, captured in a way that felt too personal, too deliberate. Her stomach twisted, but she kept her expression neutral, her hands steady as she continued sorting papers. She didn’t react, didn’t call him out, but her mind was already turning, processing what she’d seen.

The Afternoon – A Fragile Normalcy

The rest of the day passed without incident, but the air felt charged for both Meera and Arjun. He sat through her afternoon class, his heart pounding, convinced she hadn’t seen the phone, but her presence was overwhelming. Every time she moved—adjusting her pallu, writing on the board—he saw the dream-Meera, trembling under Priya’s kisses, her navel glowing, her ass and armpit quivering. The photo was still on his phone, a secret he thought was safe, but her voice, her scent of jasmine, made him feel exposed.

Meera maintained her composure, engaging the class, answering questions, even smiling at a student’s joke. But her eyes flicked to Arjun more often, noting his distraction, his quick glances away when she looked his way. She didn’t want to assume the worst—he was a good student, after all—but the photo gnawed at her, a puzzle she couldn’t ignore.

At one point, she leaned over a student’s desk near Arjun, helping with a problem, and her pallu shifted slightly, revealing the curve of her waist for a moment before she adjusted it. Arjun’s breath caught, his mind flashing to her navel, to the falls, to the dream. Meera didn’t notice, but she felt the weight of his gaze, a subtle intensity that added to her unease.

The Staff Room – Meera’s Reflection and Priya’s Interruption

After the final bell, Meera gathered her things, her maroon saree still neat, and headed to the staff room, needing a moment to think. The campus was quieting, the corridors emptying. She stood by the open window, the late afternoon breeze cool against her skin, her hands resting on the sill. The photo replayed in her mind—herself against the tree, unaware, captured in a moment meant for Priya’s camera. Why did Arjun have it? His panic, his flushed face, suggested guilt, not innocence. She’d noticed his distraction, his lingering gazes, and now the photo painted a clearer picture. Was he crushing on her?

The thought unsettled her, but beneath the unease, a strange feeling stirred—pride, unexpected and unfamiliar. She was a teacher, professional, composed, but she was also a woman, and the idea of a teenager watching her in awe, captivated by her beauty, sparked a quiet thrill. The trip had awakened something in her—the confidence of the waterfall, the black saree, Priya’s teasing compliments. To know Arjun saw her that way, enough to steal a photo, sent a shiver through her. Her breath deepened, slow and deliberate, as goosebumps prickled her arms, her body responding to the thought with a warmth she hadn’t expected. She closed her eyes, the breeze brushing her neck, and for a moment, she let herself feel it—the excitement of being desired, even if it was wrong, even if it was forbidden.

A sudden pinch on her waist snapped her back, a sharp, playful sting against her sensitive skin. “What are you doing here alone, daydreaming?” Priya’s voice teased from behind.

Meera let out a soft moan, “Ahhh,” the sound escaping before she could stop it, her body jolting as if an electric current had passed through her. The pinch, on her already heightened senses, was overwhelming, her waist quivering under Priya’s fingers. She turned quickly, her face flushed, her heart racing, but within seconds, she steadied herself, forcing a laugh to cover the moment. “Priya, you scared me!” she said, her voice light but slightly breathless, adjusting her pallu to hide her flustered state.

Priya grinned, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “You were in another world there. What’s got you so lost?”

Meera hesitated, her body still tingling from the pinch, the thoughts of Arjun lingering. She sat at the table, her maroon saree settling around her, and chose her words carefully. “I… I’ve been thinking about one of the students. Arjun. I’m getting a feeling he might have a crush on me.”

Priya raised an eyebrow, sitting across from her. “Arjun? Really? What makes you think that?”

“Just a feeling,” Meera said, avoiding the photo, keeping her tone casual. “He’s been… distracted lately. Staring a bit too much, especially since the trip. I don’t know, maybe I’m reading too much into it.”

Priya nodded, her expression thoughtful. “You might be onto something. I’ve noticed him watching you, too. During the trip, he was always nearby, staring like you were the only one there. Even in class, he zones out when you’re teaching. It’s not just curiosity—it’s intense.”

Meera’s stomach twisted, the confirmation adding weight to her suspicion. “It’s unsettling,” she admitted. “He’s a good student, but if he’s… fixated, I don’t know how to handle it.”

Priya leaned forward, her grin returning, playful but pointed. “Want to test it? Come tomorrow in that pink saree you wore a couple weeks back—the one with the sleeveless blouse. Watch him closely. If he’s got a crush, you’ll know. Plus, it’ll be a treat for me, since I missed it last time.” She winked, her tone teasing but warm.

Meera laughed, shaking her head, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. “You’re ridiculous,” she said, her voice light but her mind racing. The pink saree—bold, revealing—had turned heads before. The idea of wearing it to test Arjun was reckless, but the thrill from earlier, the pride in her beauty, flickered again. “I’ll think about it,” she added, her tone noncommittal, but a faint smile played on her lips.

Priya stood, grabbing her bag. “You do that. But don’t pretend you don’t love the attention.” She smirked, heading for the door.

The Parking Lot – Priya’s Parting Tease

In the parking lot, the evening air was cool, the campus nearly deserted. Meera walked with Priya to her parked scooter, her maroon saree swaying, her thoughts still tangled. Priya swung her leg over the scooter, adjusting her helmet, then turned to Meera with a laugh. “You know, when I pinched your waist in the staff room, you felt something, right? That soft moan you let out? Says everything.”

Before Meera could respond, Priya pinched her waist again, her fingers quick and playful against the sensitive spot. Meera gasped, a faint “Oh!” escaping her, her body tingling as she stepped back, her face flushing. Priya laughed, revving the scooter. “See you tomorrow, star!” she called, drifting off into the dusk before Meera could retort.

Meera stood there, her hand brushing her waist, the spot still warm from Priya’s pinch. She laughed softly, shaking her head, but the moment lingered, layered with the day’s strange excitement.

Arjun’s Unseen Burden

Arjun walked home, the city lights blurring past him, his mind a tangle of relief and fear. He thought Meera hadn’t seen the phone, hadn’t noticed the photo, but her voice in class, her gentle correction, felt like it held something more—concern, maybe suspicion. He couldn’t be sure. The photo was still on his phone, a piece of her he couldn’t let go, but it was also a danger, a secret that could ruin him.

He thought of her in the maroon saree, her steady gaze, the way her pallu had shifted to reveal her waist. He thought of the falls, her navel in the breeze, her pose in the photo, the dream where Priya kissed her trembling skin. Those moments were his, but they were fragile, threatened by his own carelessness. He resolved to be more careful, to keep the phone locked, to stop staring so openly. But even as he made the promise, he knew it was hollow. Meera was too much, too radiant, too consuming.

When he got home, he locked his door, his phone in his hand, the photo still there. He didn’t open it—not tonight. The memory of her in class, the fear of being caught, was enough. But Meera was still in his mind—her saree, her voice, her waist, her navel—a fire he couldn’t extinguish.

At Home – Meera’s Turmoil

At home, Meera’s apartment was quiet, the city’s hum a distant backdrop. She changed into a simple kurta, her maroon saree folded away, but the day’s events clung to her. Sitting on her couch, a cup of tea cooling in her hands, she thought of the photo—herself, captured in secret, Arjun’s guilty panic. She thought of his stares, his distraction, the suspicion of a crush now almost certain. Priya’s observations, her playful suggestion of the pink saree, added fuel to the fire.

The pride returned, unbidden but undeniable. To be seen, to be desired, even by a student—it was wrong, inappropriate, yet it stirred something in her. Her beauty, her confidence at the falls, had captivated Arjun, enough for him to steal a moment of her. The thought sent a shiver through her, her breath deepening, goosebumps rising on her arms. Her body responded, a warmth spreading through her, her waist tingling as if Priya’s pinch lingered. She closed her eyes, her heart racing, caught between guilt and a strange, forbidden excitement.

The turmoil was intense. She was a teacher, bound by duty, by boundaries. Encouraging Arjun’s fixation, even indirectly, was reckless. Yet the pink saree called to her—a sleeveless blouse, a bold choice that had made her feel radiant before. Wearing it might confirm her suspicions, might let her see Arjun’s reaction, might let her feel that thrill again. It was dangerous, but the pull was strong.

After a long internal battle, she stood, walking to her wardrobe. She pulled out the pink saree, its silk soft under her fingers, the sleeveless blouse folded beside it. Her decision was made. Tomorrow, she’d wear it—not just to test Arjun, but to reclaim the confidence, the power, she’d felt at the falls. She’d watch him closely, stay professional, but let herself feel the moment.



To be continued…

[Haran000]

Another amazing thing, writer is not stalling for any comments, he has his own pace..rare to see that here and should be appreciated more.

~RCF

Just don't want to behave like I behaved in Telugu. Haha...

[Haran000]

Shamson bro,

Story is good and immersive. Meera, Priya, Arjun characters well established. Priya teasing naughtiness is very captivating. Arjun's determination towards meera is so profound, waiting for both of their actual confrontation, opening up to eachother. However, addition to positives, there are few negatives. Why are you writing the scene of meera priya chit chat first then giving the pov of arjun later? Mix it up bro. It didn't felt good. Sorry to criticize, but it actually can be even better like that. And change the scenes and scenaries, after 35 posts one vacation, otherwise previous whole posts are in college premises and same waist fantasy, tention. 

Sorry if I commented somewhat negatively, i just wanted to tell straight, what I felt. 

Keep going, waiting for lovely Meera erotic sexcapades.

[Haran000]

And also your narration is like you are taking AI assistance in some description parts. Do you? 

[shamson9571]

And also your narration is like you are taking AI assistance in some description parts. Do you? 

No bro...Tried using it..felt the output is too artificial...so writing on my own

[shamson9571]

Episode 47: The Pink Allure

The morning sun bathed Meera’s bedroom in a soft glow, the pink saree shimmering on her chair like a promise. She stood before her mirror, her pulse quickening as she dbangd the silk, its fabric clinging to her curves, the pleats sitting low on her waist, accentuating her hourglass figure. 

The sleeveless blouse, a delicate pink, bared her arms, its snug fit highlighting her shoulders and the gentle swell of her chest. She tied her hair loosely, leaving a few strands to frame her face, and applied subtle kohl to her eyes, a hint of gloss to her lips. The reflection was radiant, powerful—a woman who could command desire yet remain untouchable.

Her fingers brushed her waist as she adjusted her pallu, a shiver rippling through her, her body recalling Priya’s pinch, Arjun’s stolen photo, the dream where her skin trembled. She took a deep breath, goosebumps prickling her arms, and steadied herself. She was a teacher, testing a suspicion, not crossing lines. Today, she’d watch Arjun, confirm his crush, and decide her next step—professionally, always professionally. But the thrill of her beauty, the pride in his awe, lingered, a forbidden warmth she couldn’t fully suppress.

The Classroom – A Vision in Pink

St. Mark’s hummed with Thursday’s energy, but the math classroom was a charged sanctuary when Meera entered. The pink saree glowed in the sunlight streaming through the windows, the sleeveless blouse revealing her smooth, toned arms, the silk molding to her curves with every step. 

Her waist, framed by the low pleats, was a subtle tease, the pallu fluttering to hint at the navel Arjun had glimpsed at the falls. Her bangles clinked softly, her jasmine scent trailing her, and her loose hair, with those delicate strands, gave her an effortless, sensual grace.The class hushed, eyes drawn to her, but Arjun’s reaction was visceral. In his usual seat, his breath caught, his body tensing as if struck. 

She was more radiant than at the falls, more devastating than in his dream. The pink saree amplified her beauty, the sleeveless blouse baring her arms—smooth, glistening, the armpit a fleeting promise when she moved. His mouth went dry, his hands clenching under the desk, his pulse racing. 

The photo, the dream, her navel, her trembling skin—they flooded him, and now she was here, real, her curves outlined, her presence overwhelming.Meera began the lesson, her voice steady, explaining derivatives, but her eyes flicked to Arjun, testing Priya’s suggestion. His gaze was intense, his face flushed, his pen idle. When she turned to the board, her arm raised, the blouse shifted, revealing the soft curve of her armpit for a moment. 

Arjun’s breath hitched, his body responding, a heat spreading, his jeans tightening. He wanted to look away, to hide his desire, but her waist, her arms, the saree’s cling to her hips held him captive.A Charged InteractionMid-lesson, Meera decided to push further, her suspicion of Arjun’s crush burning. She turned from the board, her eyes locking onto him, and called, 

“Arjun, can you explain the chain rule?” Her voice was calm, professional, but carried a deliberate edge, a test.Arjun stood, his voice unsteady, his eyes darting to her face, then lower, to her bare arms, her waist. 

“It’s… when you differentiate a composite function,” he stammered, his face burning, his mind a haze of her pink saree, her curves, the dream. 

As he spoke, fumbling the explanation, Meera stepped closer, her movements slow, deliberate. She raised her arms, her fingers gathering her loose hair to tie it into a high bun, the gesture calculated to expose her armpit.

The sight was mesmerizing. Her armpit, smooth and flawless, was a delicate hollow, lightly sheened with the morning’s warmth, the skin soft and inviting, catching the sunlight in a way that made it glow. The curve was perfect, a private detail framed by the sleeveless blouse, the faintest shadow accentuating its sensitivity. Arjun’s mouth watered, his lips parting, his eyes locked on the vision. 

His body reacted fiercely, a pulse of desire making his hands tremble, his breath shallow. He wanted to press his lips to that hollow, to taste her warmth, to feel her shiver as in the dream. The classroom faded, leaving only her armpit, her beauty, his longing.Meera observed him, her eyes sharp but subtle, catching the way his gaze fixed, his flush deepening, his words trailing off mid-sentence. 

His reaction was unmistakable—mesmerized, captivated, his crush laid bare. Her heart raced, not with fear but with that forbidden thrill, her body betraying her with a shiver, goosebumps rising on her bare arms. Her navel tingled, as if remembering his gaze at the falls, and her waist felt alive, sensitive under the saree’s cling. She finished tying her bun, letting her arms lower slowly, the blouse settling, and stepped to his desk, pointing at his textbook.

“Focus, Arjun,” she said, her voice professional but soft, leaning close enough for her jasmine scent to envelop him. 

Her arm brushed near, the sleeveless blouse revealing her shoulder’s curve, her pallu shifting to hint at her waist. Arjun’s breath caught, his body tensing, his knuckles white on the desk. He wanted to touch her, to feel her skin, but he was frozen, drowning in her presence.Meera straightened, adjusting her pallu, her fingers grazing her waist, and returned to the board. 

She felt his stare, a weight that made her skin prickle, and the pride, the excitement, surged again. To hold such power, to be desired this way—it was intoxicating, even if it was wrong. Her breath deepened, her body warm, but she kept her composure, her lesson seamless, her role as teacher intact.

The Staff Room – Priya’s Tease and Internal Heat

During lunch break, Meera retreated to the staff room, needing a moment to breathe. The pink saree glowed in the soft light, the sleeveless blouse baring her arms as she stood by the window, a cup of tea in hand. The classroom had been electric, Arjun’s mesmerized stare confirming his crush, his reaction to her armpit searing.

 She felt proud, powerful, but conflicted—his fixation was real, and her body’s response to his awe was a dangerous temptation.Priya entered, her eyes widening at Meera. 

“Well, damn,” she said, grinning. “You took my advice! That pink saree is lethal, and that blouse? You’re killing it, Meera.”

Meera laughed, her cheeks flushing, the sound tinged with nervousness. “It’s just a saree, Priya,” she said, adjusting her pallu, her fingers brushing her waist, still sensitive from the morning’s tension.

Priya stepped closer, her tone playful but pointed.
 “Just a saree? You’re glowing. So, did it work? Did Arjun lose his mind?”Meera hesitated, her body warm from the classroom, her mind replaying Arjun’s parted lips, his trembling hands. 

“I… I think you were right,” she admitted, keeping the photo secret. 
“He was staring, barely answered my question. It’s like he couldn’t focus. I’m sure now—he has a crush.”

Priya nodded, her grin softening to understanding. 
“Told you. I saw it at the falls, the way he watched you, like you were the only one there. Even in class, he’s always staring—your waist, your arms, everything. It’s intense.”

Meera’s breath caught, the words stirring that forbidden thrill. Her body responded, a shiver running through her, her navel tingling as if exposed. 

“It’s unsettling,” she said, but her voice was softer, betraying a hint of excitement. “I don’t know what to do about it.”

Priya’s eyes sparkled, teasing but warm.
 “Enjoy it a little. You’re gorgeous, Meera, and he’s just a kid in awe. Keep him in check, but don’t pretend you don’t love the attention.”

 She stepped closer, playfully pinching Meera’s waist, her fingers quick against the sensitive spot.Meera gasped, a soft “Ahh” escaping, her body jolting as the pinch sent a wave of sensation through her. Her waist quivered, her face flushing, and for a moment, she was back in the dream, trembling under intimate touches. She laughed to cover it, swatting Priya’s hand.

 “Stop that!” she said, her voice breathless but playful, steadying herself.Priya grinned, unrepentant. “You’re too easy to tease. But seriously, keep an eye on him. That pink saree’s a weapon—use it wisely.”

Meera shook her head, smiling despite herself, the tension easing but not gone. “You’re impossible,” she said, but her body was still alive, her skin warm, her mind tangled with Arjun’s awe and Priya’s touch.

Priya’s Internal Fire

As Priya left the staff room, her grin lingered, but her thoughts were a storm of their own. Meera in that pink saree, the sleeveless blouse, the way the silk hugged her curves—it was breathtaking. 

The pinch on Meera’s waist replayed in her mind, the softness of her skin, the heat beneath her fingers, the way Meera’s body had quivered, that soft moan echoing. Meera’s waist was a revelation—smooth, sensitive, impossibly hot, a curve that begged to be touched again. 

Priya’s pulse quickened, her body warming at the thought. She’d always teased Meera, playful and light, but today, the touch had felt different, charged, as if she’d brushed against something deeper.She imagined her fingers lingering longer, tracing the curve of Meera’s waist, feeling the warmth of her skin, the tremble under her touch. 

Meera was radiant, untouchable yet so alive, her beauty a fire that burned even Priya. The thought of Arjun’s crush, his stares, only heightened it—Meera’s power was universal, and Priya felt its pull, too. 

Her breath deepened, a shiver running through her as she walked to her next class, her mind lingering on Meera’s waist, her moan, the heat of that moment. She pushed the thoughts down, keeping her playful facade, but the spark remained, a secret she carried as she moved through the day.

At Home – Meera’s Reckoning

At home, Meera’s apartment was a quiet sanctuary, but her mind was a storm. She changed into a soft kurta, the pink saree folded away, but its power clung to her. Sitting on her couch, a glass of water in hand, she replayed the day—Arjun’s mesmerized stare, his mouth watering at her armpit, his trembling hands. 

The pink saree had confirmed it: his crush was real, intense, a fixation beyond admiration. Priya’s words echoed—his stares at her waist, her arms, everything—and Meera felt that pride again, that dangerous excitement.Her thoughts lingered on the moment she’d raised her arms to tie her bun, exposing her armpit, smooth and glowing in the sunlight. 

Arjun’s reaction had been raw—his lips parting, his mouth visibly watering, as if he wanted to kiss, to lick that sensitive hollow, to taste her warmth. The image sent a strange sense of excitement through her, a current that made her body tingle, her breath quicken. 

Her armpit, so private, so delicate, had held him captive, and the thought of his desire, so intense, so forbidden, made her skin flush, her navel tingling, her waist alive with sensation. She pressed her hand to her side, feeling the echo of Priya’s pinch, and a shiver ran through her, both thrilling and unsettling.

Her body responded, unbidden. Her breath deepened, goosebumps rising on her arms, her waist tingling as if Arjun’s gaze still lingered, as if Priya’s pinch was fresh. She closed her eyes, her heart racing, imagining his awe, his desire, the way her beauty held him captive. 

Her armpit, smooth and sensitive, felt alive, as did her navel, hidden but seen at the falls. The thought was wrong, forbidden, but it consumed her, her body warm, her skin flushed with a heat she couldn’t ignore.She stood, pacing, trying to shake it. She was his teacher, bound by duty, by boundaries. 

Encouraging his fixation, even through her saree, was reckless, a line she couldn’t cross. Yet the pink saree had made her feel alive, radiant, a woman who could command desire without acting on it. She’d seen his crush, felt its weight, and a part of her—small, hidden—wanted to feel it again.After a long struggle, she decided. She’d wear sarees like this more often—not to provoke Arjun, but to own her beauty, to revel in the power she’d rediscovered. She’d watch him, set boundaries if needed, but for now, she’d let herself feel the thrill, just a little longer.

Arjun’s Descent

Arjun lay in his room, the lights off, his phone clutched in his hand. The photo was untouched since the near-discovery, but today had been enough without it. Meera in the pink saree, her bare arms, her armpit glowing in the sunlight, her waist—it was more than the falls, more than the dream. His body had reacted all day, his jeans tight, his hands trembling, his mind a haze of her.

 Her armpit, smooth and perfect, had undone him, his mouth watering, his desire overwhelming. His crush was no longer a secret, not to him, and he feared not to her.He opened the photo, the screen glowing—her against the tree, arm raised, black saree taut. But it was the pink saree he saw, her armpit, her waist, the hint of her navel. His breath quickened, his body responding, and as he gave in, the release was intense, leaving him gasping, guilt and longing intertwined. Meera was a fire in him, and he didn’t know how to stop burning.

To be continued…

[redarc]

aisi lag rahi thi kya meera

[master 6]

good story

[tapasshmf]

good

[Chandan]

very nice update

[Renjith]

Nice update bro

[Sand.y2971]

Crazy plot broo i was eager to get ur updates & I can relate this fantasy broo b'cozz i have fantasy on my aunty & I want to see her navel in saree but she doesn't exposes it so waiting to see her navel in saree but no chance? So need ur ideas or tricks to see her navel in saree broo. My telegram ID : sandy09797 so need a solution for this fantasy. Appreciation ur fantasy suspense teacher line & have a great going.

[redarc]

post updates bro, its been too long

[magneticpersonality]

Eagerly waiting for the update

[redarc]

Lets co

[RCF]

Just don't want to behave like I behaved in Telugu. Haha...

I never had a problem when a writer asks for likes or comments and its least they expect. In your case my problem is your inconsistency, One day you say you will continue, other day you say you want to discontinue. Some days you will behave rudely saying I have a life and need to set career but the next moment I see you will start a new story in parallel thread, there is no weight to your word. This happened a lot back then in your old thread. 
We understand its your story but so are the emotions of readers, both should be balanced. I am here for entertainment and I even paid for some writer who needed money so my interests are best for the site not for individual tantrums.

Anyways I have stopped reading your story long time back and no regrets. I do not crave for a story, there are many here..good luck with yours. No hard feelings. 

~RCF