Adultery The Descent of Meera; An Indian House Wife

[NityaSakti]

Superb one

[subtle]

Chapter 21 The Rain

The morning sun was just warm. Meera moved around the kitchen, a steady feeling of being pleased sitting deep in her stomach. She felt proud. She had fixed Arjun. A few words, one touch, one secret. It made her feel strong.


Rajiv came up behind her. She was cutting fruit. He put his arms around her waist. He was warm. But this morning, his hands weren't just holding her. They slid up her body. He cupped her breasts through her thin top. He squeezed them. It was a familiar grip, the way he always held her to show she was his. But today, it felt wrong.

“Subah subah itni busy?” (So busy so early in the morning?) he said into her hair. His breath was hot on her neck. He pushed his hips forward, pressing his hard cock against her backside. She could feel the thick shape of him through his pants, through her clothes.

This is normal. He’s my husband. This is what we do. But all she could see was Arjun’s sad eyes from last night. She could feel his hand shaking under hers on the sofa. That feeling was sharper. But the pride was there, too. Knowing she could make another man feel that way made her feel powerful. It made her wet. She leaned back into him, letting his hardness press into her. She let herself enjoy the pressure for a second, even while her mind was somewhere else. She turned her head and gave him her cheek. It was the same move she used on Arjun. Now it was just a tool.

He kissed her cheek, a wet smack. “Accha laga kal dekh ke,” he said, letting her go to get coffee. “Arjun ko finally smile karte hue. Umeed hai ab mood theek ho jayega.” (It felt good to see yesterday. Arjun finally smiling. Hope his mood is better now.)

She didn’t turn around. She focused on cutting the mango. “Haan… shayad,” she said, keeping her voice flat. (Yes… maybe.)

The smile is because of me. The sadness was because of me. I did that. The thought sent a sharp thrill between her legs. It was a good feeling, but it was scared, too. This was dangerous. She was playing with two men. Her husband, who had no idea. And Arjun, who wanted her so badly it was like a sickness. One mistake and it would all break. The fear was a cold spot under the heat of the thrill.

He was at the door, putting on his shoes. “Kal ki wedding party yaad hai na? Shaam ko ready rehna. Dinner wahi se hoga.” (You remember tomorrow's wedding party, right? Be ready by evening. Dinner will be from there.)

“Haan, haan, yaad hai.” (Yes, yes, I remember.) She gave him his lunch.

Then it was her son. She fixed his little backpack and smoothed his hair. “college mein accha se padhai karna, beta. Teacher ki baat maanna.” Study well in college, baby. Listen to your teacher.) She kissed his forehead. The love for her son was simple. It was nothing like the messy, complicated knot of feelings twisting in her gut.

Then they were gone. She was alone.

The happy feeling came back, strong. She was going to see Arjun today. At the wedding. She would wear a nice sari. He would look at her. The idea made her skin feel tight and sensitive.

She picked up her phone. The screen was black. No messages. The happy feeling got smaller. He’s still holding back. He’s still mad, even after last night. She needed to fix it. Now. Her fingers typed fast.

Meera: Arjun.
He answered right away. Like he was holding his phone, waiting.

Arjun: Meera, good morning.

Meera: Tumhe kya hua? Kal bola sab theek ho jayega. (What happened to you? Yesterday you said everything will be fine.)
She saw the three dots. They blinked. Then they stopped. Nothing. The silence felt heavy. She got nervous.

Meera: Arjun, eh kya hua? (Arjun, what is this?)

Arjun: I am sorry Meera, really.
Sorry? For what?

Meera: Lekin eh sorry for what?

Arjun: Sorry for making you feel upset.
The words hit her in the chest. He wasn’t sorry for wanting her. He was sorry for making her feel bad. He was worried about her, even while he was hurting. A sudden wave of feeling for him washed over her. Her eyes got wet.

Meera: Don’t think I am upset. I am happy. Now eh sab chhodo. Where are you now? (Now leave all this.)

Arjun: Am on the way to office.

Meera: Ok. Tu jaldi jaaiyyo… warna Rajiv se bol ke late coming ka punishment dilwa doongi. (You go quickly… or I’ll tell Rajiv and get you punished for late coming.)  A little smile touched her mouth. It felt good to joke about her husband with him. It was a secret just for them.

Meera: When you reach, ping me.

Arjun: Theek hai, Meera.  (Alright, Meera.)
It was so formal. Just her name. It felt like a door closing. A tight worry twisted in her stomach. Why is he being so cold? She had to pull him back. She had to remind him.

Meera: Kya hua? Nowadays you forgot your Chandrika.

Her thumb waited over the send button. Your Chandrika. She was saying it out loud. She was telling him that her body, the curve of her stomach he loved, belonged to him. She sent it.

The message went. A powerful feeling exploded inside her. It started in her head. My navel. His Chandrika. But then it dropped lower, becoming a physical ache. Her other hand moved on its own. It left the phone and went to her stomach, slipping under the waistband of her salwar.

She was sitting on the bed. She let the phone fall on the blanket. All her attention was on her fingers on her skin. She hooked a finger into the hem of her kurti and pulled it up, slowly, gathering the fabric above her belly button. The air in the room felt cool on her bare stomach.

Her fingertips started to move. They brushed over the smooth, flat skin of her lower belly. It was soft. She traced slow, lazy circles, feeling the flesh give under her touch. A light shiver went through her. She closed her eyes.

Her finger stopped at the very edge of her navel. She pressed down lightly, feeling the dip where it began. A jolt of electricity shot from that spot straight down between her legs. It spread out, making her nerves feel alive. Her breath caught. She bit down on her bottom lip.

Her finger started to trace the entire rim of her navel. She followed the perfect circle slowly, carefully. With every little bit of skin she touched, the feeling got stronger. This wasn’t just touching herself. She was touching the part he owned. This is what he sees. This is what he wants. This is his. The thought made her feel incredibly turned on. The muscles in her stomach twitched under her finger. Her breathing got deeper, louder. A warm, wet throbbing started low in her belly. It was a deep ache.

She let her finger dip into the shallow hole of her navel, just a little, not going in deep, just teasing the opening. It was so sensitive. It felt like her whole body was connected to this one spot. Her head fell back. Her neck arched. She was lost in it. She imagined it was his finger, not hers. She imagined him watching her.

He named this. He calls this his. And I just told him it is. I gave it to him. This belongs to Arjun now. The idea of it, of giving a part of her body to another man, sent a hard, shaking shudder through her whole body. Her hips pushed down against the bed on their own, a small movement of pure need.

The phone buzzed. The vibration was loud and violent against the quiet blanket. It shocked her. Her eyes snapped open. Her hand jerked away from her stomach like it was burned. She yanked her kurti down. Her heart was pounding hard, a fast beat of panic. She grabbed the phone.

It was a message from Arjun.

Arjun: I reached.
That was all. No ‘Meera’. No ‘Chandrika’. Just ‘I reached’.

The words were like a slap. The warm, throbbing want that had been building in her guts went cold and sour. The high from touching herself crashed down, leaving her feeling stupid and naked and upset. The morning’s happiness was gone. Now there was just the sharp, confusing sting of him pulling away.

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Chapter continued....

The cold feeling from Arjun’s short message stayed with her. It was a dull ache in her chest. The turned-on, wet feeling she’d just had felt stupid now. She was pissed. Her fingers moved fast over her phone screen, typing out a single, angry emoji. 


He wrote back almost immediately. Not with words. A sad face. 

Meera: Grrrrr Arjun... you should not be sad.
She wanted to type ‘dear’. She wanted to make him feel better. But she stopped herself. It was too much, after he had been so distant. She didn't type the word.

Arjun: Meera, seriously I can't forget my Chandrika, but at the same time I feel I made you feel down. That's why I hold back.

Made me feel down? she thought. Arjun, you have no idea. You didn't make me feel down… you made me feel… Her mind went back to the throbbing between her legs, the wetness there, all from touching the spot he named after himself. …you made me feel good down there. A private, dirty little smile touched her lips. The memory of her own fingers rubbing herself wiped away the chill from his message. He had made her feel hot and wanted.

Meera: Arjun.. boolo na, you didn't make me feel down. Aise sochna bhi nahi. (Arjun.. say it, you didn't make me feel down. Don't even think like that.)

Arjun: Hmmm...
His weak answer was annoying. She needed to snap him out of it. She needed to see his face.

Meera: Who sab chhodo. Are you coming for that wedding function today? (Leave all that. Are you coming for that wedding function today?)

Arjun: Decide nahi kiya. (Haven't decided.)

Meera: No, you have to come. Kuch nahi kehna. (No, you have to come. Won't take no for an answer.)
She smiled to herself. It was his Chandrika telling him to come.

Arjun: Theek hai, Meera. I will try. (Alright, Meera. I will try.)
It was something, but it wasn't enough. He was still pulling away.

Meera: Arjun.... you missed to say something.
Say it, she begged silently. Say my name. Say Chandrika. Remember what we just did.

Arjun: Am not missing anything. It's deep inside me....
She knew what he meant. The memory of their dirty talk, of his confession, was buried inside him, and it was making him hurt, making him quiet. She wanted to pull it out of him.

Meera: Don't keep anything inside. Express it to someone......
She was gently, carefully, telling him to express it to her.

Arjun: Meera, I will come...
It was a start. But she needed to break the rest of the wall. She needed to bring back their secret word.

Meera: And you should not be the dull boy.
She typed ‘boy’ on purpose. It was a direct, naughty reminder of the secret name he’d given himself, of the dirty thing between them.

He sent back a blushing emoji.  It was enough. She had him back.

Her shower wasn't just a shower anymore. The warm water poured over her skin, but she wasn't thinking about getting clean. Her hands, slippery with soap, moved over her body with a new purpose. They slid over her stomach, and then her fingertips went right to her belly button. His Chandrika.

She didn't just trace it. She pressed her fingertip into the little dip, circling it slowly. The soap made everything slick. Her finger glided around the tight rim, again and again. Each circle sent a sharp, hot pulse straight to her clit. The feeling was so strong it made her legs shake a little under the water. Her nipples were hard little points, and when the water hit them, it sent another shiver through her. She leaned her back against the cold, wet tiles, one hand flat on the wall to hold herself up. Her whole world shrank to the feeling of her finger moving on that one small spot. The water was just noise. All she could feel was the slow, slippery circles and the deep ache growing between her legs.
She got out of the shower and wrapped a towel around herself. Her skin was pink and sensitive. She looked at herself in the steamy mirror and decided. She was getting dressed for him today.

She opened her bottom drawer, the one with her special things. She pushed aside the plain cotton underwear and found it: the lavender lace set. The bra and panties he had asked her to wear for his birthday. The lace he had seen a glimpse of, the memory that made him tell her everything.

She put them on the bed. The delicate lace looked dark and sexy against her white bedsheet. She stood in front of the mirror, the towel still on. She took a breath and let the towel fall to the floor.

She looked at her naked body in the mirror. She didn't cover up. She put her hands on her hips, remembering how he stared at them. She turned to look at her ass over her shoulder. Her two cheeks were full and round. She looked at the deep line where they met, the shadowy cleft running down the middle. The skin was smooth. She felt a thrill. This was what he liked. This was what made him crazy.

She bent over and stepped into the lavender lace panties. She pulled them up slowly. The soft lace slid over her thighs, over her ass, until they settled snugly against her skin. The waistband sat right below her belly button—his Chandrika was now framed by his favorite lace. She turned around again to look. The lace stretched over the curves of her ass, the pattern both hiding and showing everything. This is what he wanted for his birthday. A wild thought hit her: Should I let him see it? Do I want to? The idea scared her and turned her on so much she felt dizzy.

She sat on the edge of the bed wearing nothing but the tiny lavender panties. The lace felt rough and soft at the same time against her skin. She remembered Mahabaleshwar—the wind, her navel showing, the quick flash of this same lace that drove him crazy. She remembered on his birthday, in the kitchen, moving her saree just for him. She was sitting here now, in the thing he wanted most, all for him.
She picked up her phone. His last seen was from when he’d sent the blushing emoji. He was waiting. She knew it.

Meera: Kya kar rahe ho, Arjun? (What are you doing, Arjun?)

Arjun: Bus office mein hoon. Was thinking of going home. (Just in the office. Was thinking of going home.)

Meera: Ok theek hai. Jaldi nikalo. Go home, get ready, and come to the party soon. (Ok alright. Leave quickly. Go home, get ready, and come to the party soon.)

Arjun: Baarish ka jaise dikh raha hai. Tho cancel karne ka soch raha hoon. (It looks like rain. So I’m thinking of cancelling.)

Meera: Arjun, you come. Rain won't sink you.
She typed it to remind him of when he said he was ‘drowned’ in her.


Meera: Abhi se sink ho gaye kya? Baarish tho aaya nahi. (Did you sink already? It hasn't even rained yet.)
She looked down at herself, at the lavender lace stretched tight over her hips and mound. This was the view he was missing. Knowing she was wearing this for him made her feel exposed and powerful. The air felt cool on her bare skin, and she could feel every tiny thread of the lace against her wetness.

Arjun: Nothing like that.
He was still upset. She wanted to tell him so badly. To type: ‘I’m wearing the lavender lace, Arjun. Right now. For you.’ The words were right there. What if I just sent it? The thought was electric. It would change everything. But it was too dangerous. Her husband, Rajiv, the party… it was too much. The conflict twisted in her stomach.

Meera: Anyway, you have to come.

Arjun: Theek hai. I will come. (Alright. I will come.)

Meera: Arjun.... please be the same. And never think you made me feel down.

Arjun: Sure, Meera. I will be the same.
Him saying just ‘Meera’ again hurt. She needed to hear him call her ‘Chandrika’. She needed him to claim her.

Meera: Still, you missed to say something.
Arjun said nothing. The silence was awful. She was sitting here almost naked for him, and he was silent. She imagined him walking into the room right now. She pictured his eyes going wide, his breath catching as he saw her on the bed in just the lace panties. The fantasy was so real it made her clit throb.

Angry, she typed again, adding the emoji.

Meera:  Theek hee.. you have to be there. And wear that same t-shirt you wore when we were selecting the dress for you... 
She was telling him what to wear, making him part of her plan.

Arjun: Sure, Meera. I will.

Meera:  Again with a blushing emoji. "Any instructions for me?"

Arjun: You know, Meera. You only know that.

His answer made her feel proud and in control. He was admitting she had power over him, that she knew his deepest wants. She stood up and walked to the mirror. The woman looking back wasn't just someone's wife. She was a secret. She was a fantasy. The lavender lace looked dark against her skin. The bra was still on the bed. She saw the curve of her hips, her flat stomach leading down to the lace, the swell of her breasts. She saw his Chandrika, right above the waistband. She saw everything he wanted to see.

Meera: Arjun, I know. And I will be... but you have to come.


She sent the message. It was a promise. She was ready. She was his Chandrika, in his lavender lace, waiting. It was his move now. The waiting for tonight was a live wire under her skin.

[subtle]

Chapter continued...

Meera got up from the bed. The lavender lace of her panties felt soft against her skin, a smooth little touch that made her aware of her own body. She put on the matching bra. She cupped her breasts with both hands, lifting them, pushing them together until they swelled over the top of the cups. The lace felt rough and delicate at the same time against her nipples, which were already getting hard. She did this for a reason. She wasn't dressing for comfort. She was dressing to be seen.


She walked to her wardrobe. Her fingers moved past all the other fancy dresses and silks. She didn't even look at them. She went straight for the plain blue chiffon saree. This was the one. This was the saree she wore that first time, when she caught him staring at her hips in the grocery store. This was the saree she had on in the kitchen when she bent over and he got a look at her waist, at the lavender lace underneath.

This was the saree she wore for his birthday, just to show him his Chandrika. Today, she was putting it on again. Not to hide anything. She was going to use it. She was going to use it to make him remember. To get that happy, hungry look back in his eyes. A thrill shot through her, a hot, sharp feeling deep in her stomach. It wasn't the dress that was magic. It was her. She was the thing he wanted.

She wrapped the blue saree around herself, taking her time with every fold. She stood in front of the mirror. The thin blue fabric floated around her legs, showing the shape of her hips and thighs underneath. But then she made one specific change. She pulled the end of the saree, the pallu, and tucked the pleats in tightly, making sure the low dip of her navel was completely covered up. This was a secret.

This part of her wasn't for everyone to see. It was for one person only. It was for him to find, for him to uncover, only if she decided to let him. The thought of his hands pulling at the fabric, of his eyes on that hidden skin, made a pulse of heat beat between her legs. It was a powerful feeling, a dirty secret she was carrying right there in the folds of her saree.

She was dressed. But what for? A wedding? Or for what came next, for the dangerous game she was playing?

The front door opened. Rajiv and Aaryan were back. Rajiv's face lit up when he saw her.

Rajiv: “Waah! Kitni jaldi ready ho gayi! Dekho na Aaryan, Mamma kitni sundar lag rahi hain!” (Wow! You got ready so quickly! Look Aaryan, how beautiful Mamma is looking!)

He came over and gave her a quick, dry peck on the cheek. Meera smiled back, but her mind was already somewhere else, thinking about someone else.

Aaryan: “Mamma, mujhe bhi ready karo! Mujhe wahi blue wala shirt pehenna hai!” (Mamma, get me ready too! I want to wear that blue shirt!)

Meera: “Haan, beta, jaldi se.” (Yes, baby, quickly.)

She moved fast, her hands efficient. She helped Aaryan change his clothes. When his little fingers struggled with the buttons, her own fingers, which were usually so patient, snapped them up quickly, impatiently. When he couldn't find his good shoes, she found them in a second, her mind completely focused. She was in a hurry. Every second spent on her son was a second she wasn't there, where she really wanted to be.

The car ride to the wedding was pure torture for Meera. On the outside, she smiled and nodded. On the inside, she was buzzing. She was desperate to see Arjun. She needed to see his face when he saw the blue saree. She needed to know that he got her message, that he understood her promise. She wanted to see that sad, dull look in his eyes get replaced by a raw, wanting stare. She wanted him to look at her and forget all his reasons to hold back. She wanted him to show her everything he was feeling.

Rajiv, talking happily as he drove, had no idea.

Rajiv: “Kal office mein bahut masti thi. Team ka mood bahut accha tha. Ab soch rahe hain agle weekend kahi get together karte hain. It was a major success, after all.” (There was a lot of fun in the office yesterday. The team’s mood was very good. Now we’re thinking of having a get together next weekend. It was a major success, after all.) He glanced at her. “Arjun bhi thoda better lag raha tha kal ke comparison mein, lekin abhi bhi… pata nahi… shayad parents ki yaad aa rahi hogi. Akela rehta hai na.” (Arjun also seemed a bit better compared to yesterday, but still… don’t know… maybe he’s missing his parents. He lives alone after all.)

Meera: “Haan… shayad,” she murmured, her eyes staring out the window, her heart pounding hard against her ribs. He's better because of me. He's lonely because he doesn't have me.

Rajiv: “Aur woh Aarti? Tum dono ab baat karti ho?” (And that Aarti? Do you two talk anymore?)

The name hit her like a bucket of cold water. A sudden, sharp jealousy, hot and ugly, twisted in her gut. Aarti? Why is he thinking about her? She pushed the feeling down, keeping her voice flat.

Meera: “I dont know” She shut the topic down. Aarti didn't matter. He is not hers, she thought, and the strength of the feeling surprised her.

They reached the venue—a large, beautifully lit lawn. The air was filled with the scent of flowers and food from the buffet counters set up around the edges. A stage was set at one end, and a small concrete shed housing generators stood at the other. Shamianas on either side, sheltering seating areas.  Meera's eyes didn't see any of it. They scanned the crowds, searching for one person.
He wasn't there.

A tight knot of worry formed in her stomach. She checked her phone, hiding it in her hand. No messages. The eager feeling started to turn into something else, a mix of anger and a sick sadness. He promised. He said he would come. She couldn't wait anymore. She typed a message, her fingers pressing hard on the screen.

Meera: Where are you? You promised you would come.
Waiting for an answer felt like forever, stuck in the middle of all these happy, noisy people. Then, her phone buzzed.

Arjun: On the way, Meera. Will be there in sometime.
A wave of relief washed over her, so strong it almost made her dizzy. He was coming.

She walked around the edge of the lawn, saying hello to people from Rajiv's office with a blank smile on her face. Her attention was somewhere else entirely. Rajiv called out to her from near the stage.

Rajiv: “Meera! Idhar ao! Gift dena hai bride-groom ko! Jaldi!” (Meera! Come here! We have to give the gift to the bride-groom! Quickly!)
She started making her way through the crowd toward the stage. She was walking by herself, the blue chiffon of her saree whispering around her ankles, when she suddenly felt a body right behind her. Very close. So close she could feel the heat coming off it. A fake, deliberate cough sounded right next to her ear.

She turned around. And there he was.

Arjun.
The air left her lungs. The music, the people, everything else just melted into a blur. Her eyes locked onto him. He looked so good. Better than she remembered. He was wearing the grey t-shirt she told him to wear, the one from their shopping trip. It was tight on him, clinging to the hard muscles of his shoulders and his chest. The sight made her mouth feel dry. His face still had some of that tiredness, a hesitation that made her chest hurt. But his eyes… his eyes were locked on her, dark and intense, looking at the blue saree, and in them she saw a spark, a flash of recognition that made her own blood feel hot. They just stood there, trapped in a silent bubble, staring at each other, the whole wedding fading into nothing.

She was the one who broke it, her voice practical, a contrast to the heat rushing through her body.

Meera: “Chalo, stage par gift dena hai. Tum bhi aao, jaldi karo.” (Come on, we have to give the gift on stage. You come too, hurry up.)

Arjun hung back, hesitating. A rush of boldness went through her. Without thinking, she reached out and grabbed his forearm. His skin was warm. The muscle under her fingers was hard and solid. The touch was electric, a little shock that went straight up her arm. She gave him a small, firm push forward, then let go immediately, her fingers tingling from the contact. The simple act of pushing him, of telling him what to do with her hands, sent a jolt of power and happiness through her. He listens to me. I can make him move.

He walked ahead of her then, and she followed, her eyes openly watching his back, the way the grey cotton of his t-shirt stretched across his shoulders. He had done what she said. He was wearing what she wanted. And she, without him asking, was wearing his favorite dress, and under it, the lavender lace he had chosen for her. The knowledge was a heavy, thrilling secret between her legs. She felt a hot blush on her skin, a mix of shyness and pure, dirty pride.

They got to the bottom of the stage where a bunch of people were crowding together—colleagues and their families. Rajiv waved them over.

Rajiv: “Arjun! Idhar aa! Family photo ke liye sab aa rahe hain! Meera, aaja mere paas. Arjun, tum bhi aaja, humare saath hi khade ho jao.” (Arjun! Come here! Everyone is coming for a family photo! Meera, come to me. Arjun, you come too, stand with us.)

Everyone shuffled together, squeezing in to fit. Arjun ended up standing right next to Meera. It started by accident—the bare skin of his forearm brushed against the bare skin of her upper arm, right where her blouse ended. It was just a quick touch, a graze, but it sent a jolt through both of them. She felt Arjun's muscle tense, felt him start to pull his arm away to make a polite space between them.

But Meera wasn't having it. This was her moment. This was what she wanted. Under the cover of everyone pushing and laughing and the cameras flashing, she made a decision. She shifted her stance just a little. She pressed her arm back against his, firmly, making sure that a long, solid line of their skin was touching, from their shoulders all the way down to their elbows.

His skin was warm, slightly rough against her smoothness. She could feel the fine hairs on his arm, the hard muscle underneath. The heat coming from him was incredible, a burning line that seared into her, making her head feel light. She held her arm there, pressed tight against his, a silent, daring message. She felt the subtle tension in his arm, the exact moment he stopped trying to pull away and just let it happen.

He didn't move. He held his arm still, letting her skin rest firmly against his. The pressure was constant, a hidden intimacy in the middle of all the noise and chaos. She could feel every tiny movement of his muscle, the rhythm of his breathing. It was an agonizingly sensual connection, a secret they were sharing right in the open, under her husband's nose, while everyone smiled for the camera. Meera smiled too, a bright, perfect, fake smile for the photographer, while her entire world narrowed down to the burning, illicit heat of Arjun's arm pressed against hers.

[subtle]

Chapter continued....

The buffet was loud and busy. Plates clattered and people talked over each other. Meera sat at a long table under one of the big tents, carefully feeding Aaryan bits of rice and chicken. Rajiv was a few tables away, lost in a loud, laughing talk with his work friends. He was completely happy where he was.


Meera’s body was at the table, but her mind was not. Her eyes kept moving over the crowd, looking at every face. Where is he? That brief touch during the photo had made her want to see him even more, to be close to him. But Arjun was gone. The plate of food she got for herself was still full.

Aaryan pushed a piece of potato away. “Nahi, Mamma, woh nahi!” (No, Mamma, not that!)
Meera: “Haan, beta, haan,” she said, her voice distracted. Her hand went into her purse under the table and found her phone. She typed a message, her fingers moving fast.

Meera: Kahan ho? Dinner nahi kha rahe? (Where are you? Not having dinner?)
The reply came back right away.

Arjun: Paas mein hoon. Tumhe dekh sakta hoon. (I am nearby. I can see you.)
A hot thrill went through her. He was watching her. Right now. Her skin felt tight and sensitive, knowing his eyes were on her. She looked around harder but couldn't find him in all the people.

Meera: Lekin mein tumhe nahi dekh pa rahi hoon. (But I can't see you.)
She looked up from her phone, her eyes scanning the edges of the lawn. And then she saw him. He was far away, away from the lights and the noise, near the small generator shed. He was pulling a plastic chair from a stack and setting it down in the dim light. He sat down, alone. He didn't have a plate. He was just sitting there, watching everyone from a distance.

The sight made her chest feel tight. That sad, dull look was still all over him, even from across the lawn. She wanted to go to him, to pull him out of his lonely corner.

Meera: Wahaan pe kyun baithe ho? Yahan aao na. Be with us. (Why are you sitting there? Come here. Be with us.)
She stopped, then added the words, feeling their danger and their truth.

Meera: Be with me.
She needed him there. With her. She didn't want him to be alone. She wanted to feel him next to her. Just typing the words sent a new wave of nervous excitement through her stomach.

Arjun replied with a blushing emoji. That was it.

She needed more from him. She needed him to say yes. “Let me finish feeding him,” she typed, looking at Aaryan, who was now just playing with his food. “Then we will have dinner together, Arjun…. dullness chhodo please.” (…leave the dullness please.)

Arjun: Theek hai, Meera. I will wait here. (Alright, Meera. I will wait here.)

Him saying yes was all she needed. “Aaryan, baby, eat quickly,” she said, her voice soft but urgent. She scooped up another bite. “Dekho, airplane aayi!” (Look, the airplane came!) She made a playful swoop with the spoon, something she hadn’t done in a long time. Her only goal was to get him to finish fast. She was being a good mother, but a different, stronger need was pushing her now. The second he swallowed the last bite, she wiped his mouth and hands quickly. “Accha beta, jaake apne dost ke saath khelo.” (Good boy, go play with your friend.) She watched him run off to some other kids, then she turned to leave.

She stood up, smoothing the blue chiffon of her saree down over her hips. He’s waiting. And I’m coming to him. Wearing his favorite dress. Her fingers brushed over the fabric at her waist. And underneath… I’m wearing his lavender lace. He wanted to see this. He dreamed of this. The thought was intensely physical, making her feel naked and powerful at the same time. As she started walking slowly across the lawn towards his dark corner, she took out her phone one last time. She didn't type anything. She found a picture she took a few weeks ago of a lavender flower what he had gifted to her. She sent it to him. A silent message. A promise.

Just as she sent it, she felt something light and cool on her bare arms. A drizzle had started, a fine, misty rain. She looked up at the sky, then back at Arjun. She saw him stand up from his chair. He was coming towards her. Her heart jumped. The drizzle got heavier, the drops becoming real rain. A heavy feeling settled in her chest, a mix of wanting and being scared. Each step towards him felt important. He’s coming for me.

The rain picked up, becoming a steady, light shower. She put her hands over her head, but it was useless. She walked faster, looking down at the ground to keep the rain out of her eyes. She was so focused on walking that she didn't see him stop suddenly. She almost walked right into his chest.

He reacted fast. His hands came up and grabbed her shoulders to steady her. The touch was electric. Even through the wet chiffon of her blouse, she felt the hard strength of his grip. The heat from his palms burned into her rain-cooled skin. Her breath got stuck in her throat. She looked up, her eyes wide, meeting his. Everything else seemed to disappear. There was only the place where his hands held her.

He took his hands off quickly, like her skin had burned him. “Barish ho rahi hai,” he said, his voice a little rough. “Tum bheeg rahi ho. Chalo shamiane mein chalein.” (It’s raining. You’re getting wet. Let’s go to the shamiana.)

But as they turned to go to the crowded tents, the sky broke open. The gentle shower turned into a sudden, heavy downpour. In just a few seconds, she was completely drenched. The cold rain soaked through her chiffon saree right away. The thin fabric stuck to every curve of her body, going see-through. The end of the saree was plastered to her stomach, showing the clear outline of her navel underneath. The wet silk was stuck to her ass and her thighs, the fabric clinging tightly and showing their exact shape. The cold water was a shock, making her gasp, but it was followed by a sharp, heightened feeling. Every drop felt like a tiny, cold shock that woke up her nerves, making her totally aware of her own body, of the lavender lace panties that were now clearly visible through the soaked blue cloth.

Suddenly, Arjun’s hand shot out again, but this time it didn't grab her shoulder. His fingers closed around her wet hand, his grip firm and sure. Without saying a word, he turned and pulled her. He wasn't pulling her towards the distant, crowded tents. He was pulling her towards the small generator shed nearby.

His hand was so firm… he was pulling her. He was taking her away. The feeling of his fingers laced with hers, both their hands slippery with rain, was incredibly intimate. She didn't pull back; she let him lead her.

They got to the shed. It was locked, a plain concrete box with a metal roof. The roof stuck out a little, making a narrow strip of shade that was just enough to keep two people from the worst of the rain. But the wind blew the rain sideways, and a fine, wet mist still reached them, making sure they stayed soaked.

Her first thought, through the haze of feeling and panic, was of her family. She fumbled with her wet phone, her wet fingers slipping on the screen, and called Rajiv.

Meera: “Hello? Rajiv? Aaryan kahan hai? Tum theek ho?” (Hello? Rajiv? Where is Aaryan? Are you okay?) Her voice was shaky, partly from running, partly from the adrenaline rushing through her.

Rajiv: “Haan, haan, sab theek hai! Hum shamiane mein hain. Aaryan mere paas hai. Bilkul bheenge nahi hain. Tum kahan ho? Koi jagah mili?” (Yes, yes, all fine! We are in the shamiana. Aaryan is with me. We aren’t wet at all. Where are you? Did you find a place?)
I’m under a shed. Alone with Arjun. I’m soaked to the bone. My saree is see-through. He can probably see the lavender lace. My husband is asking if I’m safe. The guilt was a sharp pinch, but it was drowned out by the intense physical reality: the cold wet cloth clinging to her sensitive skin, the close heat from the man she couldn't stop thinking about, the loud drumming of the rain on the metal roof making a private world for just the two of them.

Meera: “Haan… haan… generator shed ke paas… chhota sa shade hai…” (Yes… yes… near the generator shed… there’s a small shade…)
Rajiv: “Accha, theek hai. Wahi ruko. Barish thamne tak bahar mat niklena. Hum theek hain.” (Oh, alright. Stay there. Don’t come out until the rain stops. We are fine.)

He hung up. Meera lowered the phone, her hand shaking. She was trapped here. With him. The rain didn't look like it would stop. It poured down in thick sheets, making a wall of water around their small shelter, cutting them off from everyone else.

Arjun was standing very close to her. They weren't touching, but she could feel the heat coming off his body, a warm contrast to the chill of her wet clothes. She could smell his cologne, mixed with the clean smell of the rain. She could hear his breathing, a little ragged, just like hers. He was trying to dry his hair by rubbing his hands through it, a move that made the muscles in his arm tighten and flex.

She looked down at her phone again, just something to do. She saw that the lavender picture she sent him was still marked ‘delivered’. He hadn't seen it. He’d been coming towards her in the rain when she sent it. He hadn't looked at his phone since. He had no idea about the silent, fragrant promise she had sent him right before they got stuck in this tiny, rain-filled space. The knowledge felt like a secret she was holding onto, a bomb waiting to go off.

[subtle]

Chapter continued......

The rain hammered on the metal roof above them, a loud noise that closed them off from everything else. Meera was totally aware of Arjun standing next to her. He was so close on her left side that she could feel the heat coming from his body. It was a warm force against the cold of her soaked skin. The space between them felt alive and tense. She wanted him to check his phone. She needed him to see the picture of the lavender. She needed him to understand what she was offering him.


A strong wind blew, sending a cold spray of rain under their small shelter. Meera gasped as the water hit her. Her already wet saree stuck to her body even more. The thin chiffon was like a second skin, plastered to her hips and showing every curve. She knew he was watching. She wanted him to be watching. She needed his eyes on her, on the show she was putting on just for him.

He still wasn't touching her. The nearness was painful. She turned her head slowly to look at him. He was rubbing a hand through his wet hair. The move made the muscles in his arm flex under his soaked grey t-shirt. The shirt was stuck to him, almost see-through in places. It clung to the hard lines of his chest and stomach. He felt her looking and turned his head. His eyes met hers.

The dull look was gone. Completely. Now his eyes held a raw, intense spark that made her breath stop. Raindrops hung from the tip of his nose and his eyelashes. She watched one drop slide down his cheek. She felt a drop fall from her own chin, tracing a path down her neck and into the dip of her throat. He wasn't just looking at her face. His eyes moved over her drenched body like a physical touch. She looked down at herself.

The wetness made her saree see-through. The blue chiffon was dark and heavy with water, clinging to her skin. The top of her breasts were exposed, the skin there shiny with rainwater. Every drop that landed on her chest seemed to sizzles. Her heart beat hard against her ribs, a fast rhythm matching the rain on the roof. Her wet hair was stuck to her neck and back, dripping cold water down her spine, but it did nothing to cool the heat growing deep inside her.

A small, sexy smile touched her lips without her meaning it to. It was a reaction to the pure want she saw in his eyes. But she could still feel him holding back, a slight stiffness in how he stood. She needed to break it.

She turned her body slowly, presenting her back to him. She tilted her face just enough to keep him in the corner of her eye. Then, she leaned back. It was a small move, but she meant it. She closed the tiny space between them until the wet strands of her hair brushed against the bare skin of his upper arm. The heat of his body through that damp contact was a shock against her cold skin. Her heartbeat was wild and loud in her ears. Every nerve in her body was screaming, totally aware of how close he was.

She leaned her head back slightly towards him. Her voice came out as a husky, breathy whisper, barely heard over the rain. "Arjun...." His name was a beg, a question. A hard shiver racked her body, starting deep in her core and shaking outwards. "Did you... did you see my message?" The words were broken, pushed out from her trembling lips.

The question seemed to shake him. He reached for his phone, moving fast. As he pulled it from his pocket, his elbow brushed against the small of her back. The touch, even through the wet fabric, sent a wild, electric jolt through her. She gasped, her eyes closing for a second.
She heard the soft click of his phone unlocking. She saw the glow of the screen light up his face in the dim light. There was a moment of silence, then a low, breathy whisper right next to her ear, so close she felt his warm breath.

"Ohh, Meera..."

She turned her head. Their eyes met again. The want in his was now a burning fire. "Arjun, please..." she whispered, her voice thick with need, before turning her face forward again, unable to take the strength of his look.

"It's your, Chandrika." Her voice was broken, rough with feeling. 

He moved closer. The back of his right hand, warm and a little rough, came to rest against the wet chiffon covering the soft, full curve of her left buttock. The touch was light, a graze, but it burned through the wet fabric.

"Chandrikaaa." Her name was a sensual sigh from his lips.

Meera’s hands, which had been hanging at her sides, began to move. With shaking, clumsy movements, she reached behind her for the free end of her wet saree. She gathered the heavy, soaked fabric, her fingers trembling. Slowly, on purpose, she brought it around to her front and dbangd it over her shoulder. The action pulled the wet saree tighter across her back and hips, making her curves more obvious. It left the whole expanse of her back, and the full swell of her buttocks, completely open to him. It was a silent, clear offering.

"Chandrikaaa." He said it again, his voice lower, huskier, filled with an awe and desire that made her knees feel weak.

The back of his hand pressed more firmly against her now. Not a graze, but a firm, possessive press into the soft flesh of her left buttock. Her breath hitched, coming in fast, shallow pants. Her shivering got worse, becoming uncontrollable. She felt a distinct, warm pooling of wetness between her legs, a hot contrast to the cold rain on her skin.

He deliberately turned his hand. His palm, now warm and flat, came to rest fully on her buttock. The sudden, intimate contact made her jump. A small, choked gasp escaped her lips.

He didn't take his hand away. Instead, he started to move it. Gently, his palm explored the curve of her right buttock. His fingers spread out, pointing down. She felt his fingers gently take a handful of the soft flesh through the wet saree, squeezing with a tenderness that was incredibly erotic. He's feeling my shape... he's learning the curve of me... The thought sent another violent tremor through her.

She closed her eyes, giving in to the feeling. She took a deep, ragged breath through her mouth, her chest rising and falling fast. Her nipples, already hard from the cold, were now painfully tight, aching with a need that echoed deep inside her.

His palm kept moving, grazing over her soft flesh. She could feel his hand trembling against her. "Chandrikaa," he whispered again, his voice thick.

Then she felt it. His fingers, tracing. They weren't just on her buttock anymore. They were tracing the edge of her lavender lace panty. She could feel the clear line of the lace through the soaked chiffon. His fingertips were following it, exploring the border between the lace and her skin. The touch was exquisite, driving her crazy. His little finger moved lower, brushing against the sensitive, clothed skin of her inner thigh, dangerously close to her center. Then it drifted up, tracing the deep, sensual cleft between her buttocks over the fabric. A slow, deliberate move along that intimate valley.

She was dripping inside, a hot, slick wetness in her pussy, that had nothing to do with the rain. "My Chandrikaaaa," Arjun moaned, the sound raw and filled with a need that matched her own.

She stood frozen, lost in the sensation, her eyes squeezed shut. A small, helpless moan escaped her.

"Chandrikaaa." This time, he lowered his head. His lips were inches from her ear, his warm breath washing over the rain-cooled skin of her neck and shoulder. The contrast was electric. She felt goosebumps erupt all over her skin, a visible reaction to his nearness. The fine hairs on her arms and the back of her neck stood up.

"Aa... Arjun..." Her words were broken, her breathing deep and ragged, each inhale a shaking effort.

He raised his left hand and placed it on her bare shoulder. His palm was warm, almost hot, against her cold, wet skin. The contact was so intimate, so possessive, it made her gasp. "Ssshhhh..." a gentle, involuntary moan slipped out.

Another gust of wind blew, spraying them with a fresh mist of cold rain. But Meera barely felt the cold. All she felt was the heat—the heat of his hand on her shoulder, the heat of his palm on her buttock, the heat building inside her.

Arjun slowly used the hand on her shoulder to move the wet, tangled strands of her hair away from her back. His fingers grazed the skin of her upper back, where her blouse was cut low. The touch was light, almost worshipful, but it sent shivers of pure sensation down her spine.
All the while, his right hand continued its gentle, maddening exploration on her buttock. He gently grabbed her right cheek again, his palm cupping her fully. "Ohhh, my Chandrika," he breathed, and then she felt him lean forward.

His lips touched the skin of her shoulder. Not a kiss, at first, just the press of his warm, soft lips against her wet, cool skin. "Aahhh!" Meera moaned, the sound louder this time, lost in the noise of the rain. The heat of his lips and his breath spread through her skin like a fire.

He kissed her shoulder again, this time a little harder, and his hand on her buttock squeezed more firmly, possessively. Her inner muscles clenched in response, the dripping wetness between her legs becoming impossible to ignore. This part of me is his. Right now, he owns me.

The heavy downpour was finally starting to ease, becoming a gentle patter. The world was starting to come back.

"Chandrika, thank you so much, chandrika," he whispered, his hands still moving on her, his voice filled with a gratitude that was deeply sensual.

The spell was breaking. Reality was seeping back in with the fading rain. "Need to go now, Arjun," she said, her voice hoarse. She pulled herself forward slightly, breaking the contact of his hand on her buttock, creating a small, necessary gap between them.

She turned her head sideways to meet his eyes. The lust was still there, blazing in both their looks, a shared secret now burned into their memory. They stared at each other for a long moment, breathing heavily.

"Never be dull again, Arjun," she whispered, her voice firm despite its huskiness.

He smiled at her, a slow, deep smile that held all the promise and desire of the last few minutes. He nodded his head. "I won't be."

"The rain has stopped. We need to go now, Arjun." She knew it was agony to leave this bubble, to step back into the world where they were just colleagues, but they had to.

She started walking away from the shed, her legs feeling weak and unsteady. Arjun followed a few steps behind, a respectful distance once more. As they emerged, they saw that most of the guests had tentatively returned to their seats in the open lawn, the air fresh and clean after the rain. Nobody seemed to pay them any special attention. They had been invisible in their private storm. But as Meera walked, she could still feel the ghost of his warm palm on her buttock, the brand of his lips on her shoulder, and the thrilling, terrifying knowledge that a line had been irrevocably crossed.

[jroy1984]

Excellent update breath taking!

[NityaSakti]

Splendid update. Thank you

[Projectmp]

Really enjoyed the update. The slow seduction is amazing.Meera is addicted to arjun

[Gajakidost]

I expected a kiss in the rain. Awesome

[Raj087]

Very good writeup....i hope soon Arjun fucks her and Meera gets pregnant with her second child....making her Chandrika more sexy for Arjun.... you are awesome writer...if possible update soon....thanks for your efforts

[Hotyyhard]

Excellent update bro

[Deepak Sanjeev]

This is going interestingly. Where and when she will lose her chastity to Arjun.

[Dinesh5]

Very interesting and hot update

[Ankur 2019]

Brilliant build up indeed!

[StoryReader1]

Pl cont

[Hotyyhard]

update pls

[ash.enigma]

awesome update

[Tippubhai]

Excellent update
I like the way the story is being carried. Continue the flow and don't let Meera surrender that easy and make her feel guilty every now and then. Anyways very much happy to find this gem and hoping an update very soon from you. Hats off to your writing skills brother

[Projectmp]

Eagerly waiting