Meera - The new Teacher

[redarc]

great updates.....i wish something like some event or some picniic where accidently meera and arjun sit side by side ... oh good let this be happen soon wow it will be too sensual ....

[magneticpersonality]

Please update

[magneticpersonality]

Awaiting for the update

[sheenastevens]

Great going so far...

Thanks brother

[magneticpersonality]

Please update bro

[shamson9571]

Episode 52: Echoes of Desire in Solitude

Monday’s sultry warmth lingered into the late afternoon at St. Mark’s, the rainclouds casting a soft, gray pallor over the college, the air thick with the unspoken tension that had defined the day. Meera’s pink silk saree, vibrant as a blush, still clung to her curves, its low pleats accentuating her slender waist, the pallu teasing her navel’s delicate dip. The sleeveless blouse bared her toned arms, its deep back revealing her spine’s elegant curve, a reminder of Arjun’s fixation and Priya’s intimate touch. The day’s events—Arjun’s moans in the bathroom, his arousal over her photo, the possible video; Priya’s lips on her neck, her hands caressing her stomach—left Meera’s body alive, her waist tingling, her navel sensitive, her spine warm. Priya, too, carried the memory of Meera’s soft skin, her moans, a fire that burned beneath her composed exterior. The avoidance between them, a silent dance of embarrassment, shaped the day’s final hours.

The Day’s Avoidance – A Fragile Distance

After the math class, Meera remained in the classroom, her pink saree pooling around her as she collected papers, her bare arms glowing in the soft light, her deep-back blouse a subtle tease. She avoided the staff room, knowing Priya might be there, the thought of their eyes meeting after the staff room intimacy too much to bear. Her heart raced, her skin flushed, the memory of Priya’s kisses, Arjun’s gaze, swirling in her mind. She lingered, grading papers with uncharacteristic slowness, her fingers brushing her waist, the spot sensitive, amplifying her turmoil. When she finally left, she took a longer route to the parking lot, her jasmine scent trailing, her loose bun swaying, avoiding the corridors where Priya might pass.

Priya, meanwhile, stayed in the staff room, her lesson plans spread before her, but her mind far from work. The memory of Meera’s waist, so soft under her hands, her stomach’s delicate curve, her neck’s smooth warmth against her lips, consumed her. She paced the room, her fingers grazing her own lips, still warm with the memory of Meera’s skin, her moans—“Mmm… Priya…”—echoing. She avoided the classroom, sensing Meera’s presence, the embarrassment of their moment a weight she couldn’t face. When she left, she took a different exit, her steps quick, her heart pounding, the desire to see Meera warring with her confusion.
Their paths never crossed again that day. Teachers and staff moved around them, oblivious to the tension, the college emptying as the rain began to fall. Meera drove home in silence, her pink saree a radiant blur against the gray sky, her mind a storm. Priya followed later, her car’s wipers swishing, her thoughts on Meera’s beauty, a fire she couldn’t extinguish. The distance between them was a fragile shield, a silent agreement to avoid until the morning brought clarity—or more chaos.

Arjun’s Home – A Frenzy of Release

Arjun reached his modest home, the rain tapping against the windows, the quiet a stark contrast to the day’s intensity. He dropped his bag by the door, his heart racing, the phone in his pocket a burning secret. Locking his bedroom door, he sank onto his bed, the familiar creak of the mattress grounding him. His hands trembled as he pulled out the phone, opening the video he’d recorded in the staff room—Meera in her pink saree, her armpit exposed, glowing in the light, Priya’s lips kissing her neck, her hands caressing her stomach, Meera’s moans—“Mmm… Priya…”—filling the air. The sight was overwhelming, her curves, her spine’s elegant curve, her ass outlined in the silk, a vision of pure allure.
His breath quickened, his body reacting fiercely, a heat surging through him, his jeans tightening. He began stroking himself, his hand moving in rhythm with the video, his mind lost in the moment—her armpit, her waist, Priya’s touch, her moans. “Sss… Meera ma’am,” he whispered, his voice a low moan, thick with longing, “so sexy… your armpit… your back…” The pleasure built, intense, consuming, and he released a huge load, his body shuddering, a wave of relief washing over him. But the video looped, her beauty unrelenting, and he couldn’t stop. He stroked again, the image of her armpit, her neck under Priya’s lips, driving him wild, releasing a second time, the volume startling even him.

The frenzy continued, his hand moving with desperation, the video’s replay fueling his obsession. A third release came, his breath ragged, his body trembling, the sight of Meera’s curves, her moans, too much to resist. A fourth time, his energy waning, the load smaller but no less intense, left him exhausted, his body slick with sweat, his mind hazy with satisfaction. He collapsed onto the bed, the phone slipping from his hand, the video still glowing. Too tired to move, he drifted into a deep sleep, Meera’s image etched into his dreams, his obsession a fire that even sleep couldn’t quench.

Meera’s Home – A Disturbed Solace

Meera arrived at her cozy apartment, the rain a soft patter against the windows, the silence amplifying her troubled mind. She kicked off her sandals, the pink saree swaying, her bare arms catching the dim light, her deep-back blouse a reminder of the day’s desires. The events—Arjun’s bathroom moans, his arousal, the possible video; Priya’s kisses, her hands on her stomach—swirled in her thoughts, a storm she couldn’t escape. Feeling disturbed, she moved to her bedroom, shedding the saree with a sigh, the silk pooling on the floor. She changed into soft cotton pajamas, the fabric cool against her skin, her waist and navel still sensitive, her spine warm where the blouse had bared it.

In the kitchen, she boiled water, her hands trembling as she prepared a cup of chamomile tea, the steam rising, carrying a faint herbal scent that did little to calm her. She sat on her couch, the cup warm in her hands, her loose hair falling over her shoulders, strands brushing her neck. Her mind replayed the day—Arjun’s fixation, his whispered words, “What a sexy back,” the sight of his arousal, bigger than expected, the volume of his release. The thought sent a shiver through her, her body responding with a tingling sensation, a warmth she couldn’t suppress. Was he recording her regularly, capturing her unaware? The falls photo, the poems, the new photo—perhaps a video—suggested a pattern, a dangerous obsession.

And Priya—her lips on her neck, her hands caressing her stomach, her own moans—had blurred lines she couldn’t untangle. The embarrassment of their intimacy, the vulnerability of her surrender, made her flush, her skin alive with the memory. How could she face Priya tomorrow, after such a moment? She sipped her tea, the warmth grounding her, but her mind raced. She was a professional, bound by boundaries, but the thrill of their desires—Arjun’s, Priya’s, her own—was a fire she couldn’t extinguish. Exhausted, she set the cup aside, curled onto the couch, and drifted into a restless sleep, her dreams a tangle of moans, gazes, and forbidden touches, her mind disturbed by the day’s weight.

Priya’s Home – A Yearning Reverie

Priya reached her sleek apartment, the rain a gentle rhythm against the glass, the quiet a canvas for her racing thoughts. She dropped her bag, her mind consumed by the staff room moment with Meera. In her bedroom, she sank onto her bed, the soft sheets a contrast to the fire within her. The memory of Meera’s waist, so soft under her hands, her stomach’s delicate curve, smooth and warm, replayed vividly. Her fingers had traced that skin, feeling its silkiness, a sensation that sent shivers through her now. Meera’s arms, toned and glowing, her shoulder’s smoothness under her lips, her neck’s yielding warmth—each detail was etched in her mind, her scent, jasmine and allure, intoxicating her.
She recalled the kisses on Meera’s neck, soft and yummy, the taste of her skin a forbidden sweetness that lingered on her lips. Meera’s moans—“Mmm… Priya…”—echoed, the sweetest sound in that moment, a melody of desire that made her heart race. Priya’s body responded, a heat spreading, her breath deepening as she replayed the intimacy—Meera’s trembling, her armpit exposed, glowing, her erotic expressions. She marveled at Meera’s beauty, her curves, her power, and wondered—if as a woman she felt this pull, what must a man feel, especially Arjun, with his obsessive gaze?

The thought excited her, her skin flushing, her pulse quickening. One thing was clear: she wanted to experience those moments again, to feel Meera’s softness, hear her moans, taste her skin. She hoped to God for similar situations, a chance to reignite that fire, to explore the desire that had awakened in her. Lying back, her fingers tracing her lips, still warm with memory, she drifted into a restless sleep, Meera’s image a beacon in her dreams, her yearning a silent prayer.


To be continued…

[readersp]

Very very nice!!!

[redarc]

bhai please update soon... why you are delaying so much

[readersp]

Kindly update please!!!

[magneticpersonality]

Good update
Thanks

[shamson9571]

Episode 53: A Quiet Respite

Tuesday, dawned with a gentle rain over St. Mark’s, the air cooler, washing away the sultry tension of the previous day. Arjun woke in his room, his body aching, a high temperature burning through him after the night’s frenzied releases to Meera’s recording. His head throbbed, his limbs heavy, and he texted his parents, pleading a sick day. They agreed, concerned, unaware of the true cause—his obsession with Meera’s image, her armpit, her moans with Priya, had pushed him to exhaustion. He stayed home, the phone beside him, the video a temptation he was too weak to revisit.

Meera arrived at college in her usual attire—a simple cream cotton saree with a full-sleeve blouse, her hair tied in a neat bun, minimal kohl lining her eyes, a return to modesty after the pink saree’s allure. The day felt subdued, her body still tingling from Monday’s events—Arjun’s moans, Priya’s kisses—but she moved with renewed composure, her waist and navel less sensitive, her spine calm under the modest fabric. The absence of Arjun’s intense gaze brought a quiet relief, though his absence raised a flicker of curiosity.
In the staff room, Priya greeted her with a hesitant smile, her usual teasing replaced by a cautious warmth. “Morning, Meera,” she said softly, adjusting her dupatta, her eyes avoiding Meera’s for a moment. “You… okay after yesterday? I didn’t mean to—”

Meera cut in, her voice gentle but firm, a flush creeping up her neck. “It’s fine, Priya. We both got carried away. Let’s just… move past it, alright?” Her tone carried a mix of embarrassment and resolve, her fingers brushing her waist, the memory of Priya’s touch fading.
Priya nodded, relief softening her features. “Agreed. I value you too much to let it get weird. Friends?” She extended a hand, a small, awkward gesture.

Meera smiled, shaking it briefly, the contact light but reassuring. “Friends,” she echoed, her heart easing. The conversation settled the dust, their awkwardness giving way to a tentative normalcy. They parted to their classes, the day unfolding quietly, the intensity of Monday a distant echo, ready to be buried under routine.

To be continued…

[shamson9571]

Episode 54: Rain-Soaked Revelations

The week following Monday’s upheaval at St. Mark’s drifted by in a subdued haze, the air carrying a quiet tension. Meera arrived each day in her customary attire—simple cotton sarees in muted tones like beige or gray, paired with full-sleeve blouses, her hair secured in a tight bun, her demeanor composed yet guarded. Priya, too, kept her distance, her usual playful banter replaced by curt, formal exchanges. “Good morning, Meera,” she’d say with a nod, her eyes fleeting, avoiding the warmth of their past rapport. Their conversations were brief, limited to schedules or lesson plans, the memory of Monday’s intimacy—Priya’s lips on Meera’s neck, her hands on her stomach—casting a shadow neither addressed. The silence between them crackled with unspoken desire, a tension that thickened the staff room air, yet neither breached it.

By Friday, the college day ended under a sky heavy with rainclouds, the evening promising a downpour. Meera, relieved to leave the formalities behind, returned to her cozy apartment. Shedding her gray saree, she slipped into a casual crop top and loose night pants, the fabric soft against her skin, the crop top revealing a sliver of her midriff, her navel a subtle tease. The rain began as a gentle patter, but a glance in her kitchen revealed empty shelves—no groceries, no vegetables for dinner. With a sigh, she grabbed an umbrella, her attire unconventional but practical, and stepped out to the nearby shop, the cool air brushing her exposed waist.

The Shop Encounter – A Casual Resurgence

The small grocery shop glowed warmly against the rainy dusk, its shelves stocked with fresh produce. Meera browsed, her crop top clinging slightly from the damp, her night pants outlining her legs, her hair loosening from its bun. As she reached for tomatoes, a familiar voice broke her focus. “Meera? What brings you here?” Priya stood nearby, her own basket half-full, her raincoat dripping, her eyes widening at Meera’s attire.

Meera turned, a flush creeping up her neck, her fingers tightening on the umbrella. “Oh, Priya… just needed some groceries. Didn’t expect to see you. Do you live nearby?” Her voice was casual, but the sight of Priya—her damp hair, her steady gaze—stirred a flicker of Monday’s heat.
Priya smiled, tentative but warm. “A few streets over. I come here often. You?” Meera nodded, explaining her sparse kitchen, and they exchanged small talk—where they lived, the rain’s timing—each word a careful step over the fragile truce. The conversation flowed lightly, but the air thickened with their proximity, Meera’s exposed midriff catching Priya’s glance, a silent echo of past desire.

The Shelter – A Charged Interlude

As they finished shopping, the rain intensified, a sudden deluge forcing them to abandon their umbrellas. They darted to a secluded bus shelter, its roof offering scant protection, the air cool and misty. Meera’s crop top clung to her skin, semi-wet, outlining her curves, her navel glistening with raindrops, her night pants hugging her hips. Priya, shedding her raincoat, stood close, her breath visible in the chill, her eyes tracing Meera’s form with a hunger she couldn’t hide.

The silence stretched, electric, until Priya stepped nearer, her voice a whisper. “You look… breathtaking like this, Meera.” Her gaze lingered on Meera’s midriff, the raindrops tracing her skin, her lips parting as if to taste the moment. Meera’s heart raced, her body warming despite the damp, her waist tingling where Priya’s eyes roamed.

Meera met her gaze, her breath shallow, a mix of embarrassment and thrill coursing through her. “Priya, we said we’d move past this,” she murmured, but her tone wavered, her skin flushing as Priya’s proximity reignited Monday’s fire. Priya’s hand hovered near Meera’s waist, not touching, but the intent was palpable, her fingers trembling with restraint. Meera’s chest rose, her crop top shifting, revealing more of her smooth midriff, the sight drawing a soft gasp from Priya.

The moment teetered on the edge, Priya leaning closer, her breath warm against Meera’s neck, the memory of their kisses flooding back. Meera’s eyes half-closed, a faint moan escaping, “Mmm…”—not from touch, but from the charged air, the rain amplifying their tension. Priya’s lips hovered, her desire a silent plea, the space between them alive with unspoken longing.

The Thunderous Interruption – A Silent Retreat

A loud thunderstorm cracked overhead, shattering the spell, the sound reverberating through the shelter. Meera and Priya jolted apart, their eyes wide, faces flushed with realization. The rain poured harder, a natural barrier restoring their boundaries. Without a word, they gathered their bags, Meera clutching her groceries, Priya her raincoat, their breaths uneven.
“Bye,” Meera said softly, her voice barely audible, turning toward home. “Bye,” Priya echoed, her tone heavy, heading the opposite way.
They walked into the rain, the distance between them growing, the erotic moment a fleeting dream washed away by the storm. The evening settled, their homes a refuge from the day’s unexpected resurgence, the tension lingering but unspoken, a chapter paused for now.

To be continued…

[redarc]

ooh lesbo story hai kyaa? i was thinking arjun ke saath kuch hoga

[magneticpersonality]

Good going, buddy.
You are well balancing the slow seduction of the trio erotic game
Impressive

[readersp]

Amazing!!! Not sure whether it is going to be between the two ladies or between Meera and Arjun. Either way amazing writing!!! More updates please

[magneticpersonality]

Please update buddy

[Aamirpqrs]

Episode 54: Rain-Soaked Revelations

The week following Monday’s upheaval at St. Mark’s drifted by in a subdued haze, the air carrying a quiet tension. Meera arrived each day in her customary attire—simple cotton sarees in muted tones like beige or gray, paired with full-sleeve blouses, her hair secured in a tight bun, her demeanor composed yet guarded. Priya, too, kept her distance, her usual playful banter replaced by curt, formal exchanges. “Good morning, Meera,” she’d say with a nod, her eyes fleeting, avoiding the warmth of their past rapport. Their conversations were brief, limited to schedules or lesson plans, the memory of Monday’s intimacy—Priya’s lips on Meera’s neck, her hands on her stomach—casting a shadow neither addressed. The silence between them crackled with unspoken desire, a tension that thickened the staff room air, yet neither breached it.

By Friday, the college day ended under a sky heavy with rainclouds, the evening promising a downpour. Meera, relieved to leave the formalities behind, returned to her cozy apartment. Shedding her gray saree, she slipped into a casual crop top and loose night pants, the fabric soft against her skin, the crop top revealing a sliver of her midriff, her navel a subtle tease. The rain began as a gentle patter, but a glance in her kitchen revealed empty shelves—no groceries, no vegetables for dinner. With a sigh, she grabbed an umbrella, her attire unconventional but practical, and stepped out to the nearby shop, the cool air brushing her exposed waist.

The Shop Encounter – A Casual Resurgence

The small grocery shop glowed warmly against the rainy dusk, its shelves stocked with fresh produce. Meera browsed, her crop top clinging slightly from the damp, her night pants outlining her legs, her hair loosening from its bun. As she reached for tomatoes, a familiar voice broke her focus. “Meera? What brings you here?” Priya stood nearby, her own basket half-full, her raincoat dripping, her eyes widening at Meera’s attire.

Meera turned, a flush creeping up her neck, her fingers tightening on the umbrella. “Oh, Priya… just needed some groceries. Didn’t expect to see you. Do you live nearby?” Her voice was casual, but the sight of Priya—her damp hair, her steady gaze—stirred a flicker of Monday’s heat.
Priya smiled, tentative but warm. “A few streets over. I come here often. You?” Meera nodded, explaining her sparse kitchen, and they exchanged small talk—where they lived, the rain’s timing—each word a careful step over the fragile truce. The conversation flowed lightly, but the air thickened with their proximity, Meera’s exposed midriff catching Priya’s glance, a silent echo of past desire.

The Shelter – A Charged Interlude

As they finished shopping, the rain intensified, a sudden deluge forcing them to abandon their umbrellas. They darted to a secluded bus shelter, its roof offering scant protection, the air cool and misty. Meera’s crop top clung to her skin, semi-wet, outlining her curves, her navel glistening with raindrops, her night pants hugging her hips. Priya, shedding her raincoat, stood close, her breath visible in the chill, her eyes tracing Meera’s form with a hunger she couldn’t hide.

The silence stretched, electric, until Priya stepped nearer, her voice a whisper. “You look… breathtaking like this, Meera.” Her gaze lingered on Meera’s midriff, the raindrops tracing her skin, her lips parting as if to taste the moment. Meera’s heart raced, her body warming despite the damp, her waist tingling where Priya’s eyes roamed.

Meera met her gaze, her breath shallow, a mix of embarrassment and thrill coursing through her. “Priya, we said we’d move past this,” she murmured, but her tone wavered, her skin flushing as Priya’s proximity reignited Monday’s fire. Priya’s hand hovered near Meera’s waist, not touching, but the intent was palpable, her fingers trembling with restraint. Meera’s chest rose, her crop top shifting, revealing more of her smooth midriff, the sight drawing a soft gasp from Priya.

The moment teetered on the edge, Priya leaning closer, her breath warm against Meera’s neck, the memory of their kisses flooding back. Meera’s eyes half-closed, a faint moan escaping, “Mmm…”—not from touch, but from the charged air, the rain amplifying their tension. Priya’s lips hovered, her desire a silent plea, the space between them alive with unspoken longing.

The Thunderous Interruption – A Silent Retreat

A loud thunderstorm cracked overhead, shattering the spell, the sound reverberating through the shelter. Meera and Priya jolted apart, their eyes wide, faces flushed with realization. The rain poured harder, a natural barrier restoring their boundaries. Without a word, they gathered their bags, Meera clutching her groceries, Priya her raincoat, their breaths uneven.
“Bye,” Meera said softly, her voice barely audible, turning toward home. “Bye,” Priya echoed, her tone heavy, heading the opposite way.
They walked into the rain, the distance between them growing, the erotic moment a fleeting dream washed away by the storm. The evening settled, their homes a refuge from the day’s unexpected resurgence, the tension lingering but unspoken, a chapter paused for now.

[Aamirpqrs]

Bhai itni behatreen story ki kyun lanka lga rahe isko lesbo story bnakar 
Hero heroine ka bhi kuch krwa 2
Side  character k maze karwa rahe..
Arey Arjun aur Meera ka hi scene rehne 2 Priya ka jitna ho gya kaafi hai 
Arjun ko kaahe cuckold bna rahe yaar Priya ka part kam karke Arjun Meera ka part bdao 
Priya ka part bas playful teasing tak hi theek haiIsse zyada karoge toh story ki lanka hi lagbaoge

[magneticpersonality]

The author is making an ideal blend of Lebo and straight.
Let's not interfere with the creative freedom of the author; he is crafting a quality work.
Keep going buddy.

[Haran000]

Put some conversations brother. Without proper conversations a story looks like a lesson summary. 

yr):