Adultery Geetha ~ teacher

[oracle]

Thank you Haran garu

[Slayer@@]

Waiting for next update....

[Haran000]

update delete.

[Haran000]

sorry I didn’t liked the update. So deleted.

[Haran000]

22. Favour

The sight of my wife with Bharath burned behind my eyelids, a recurring vision I couldn't escape. If the day ever came when Geetha demanded to know why I had sanctioned this arrangement, I would be voiceless. Perhaps the answer existed somewhere in the shadows of my mind, but I couldn't bring myself to utter it. I was a man living a double life, hiding the truth even from myself.


Anger was my constant companion, a sharp, jagged thing I tried to smooth over with reason. But that morning, watching their easy intimacy from the periphery, the rage had boiled over. I had retreated into the house, my chest tight with a suffocating mix of resentment and confusion. I didn't even know what I was trying to prove by walking away.

The silence that followed was heavy. Geetha had been cold since the morning, her resentment palpable because I had shattered the fragile bubble of her time with Bharath. We were ghosts in the same house. Even Bharath avoided my gaze. I spent the afternoon wandering through the sterile halls of Evelyn’s, meeting staff and pretending everything was normal. But beneath the surface, a poisonous thought took root: Did he take advantage of my absence to finish what I had interrupted?

As evening approached, the reality of our social obligations set in. We had a party to attend.
Geetha was in the shower, the muffled spray of water the only sound in our room. I looked at the dress I had picked out for her—a daring piece she had already rejected. She claimed she didn't like being the center of attention in a crowd, but part of me wanted the world to see her through my eyes. This isn’t home, I reasoned. In this foreign land, why shouldn’t she embrace a different version of herself?

I knew if she stepped out of that bathroom and reached for her usual attire, the opportunity would be gone. Taking a breath to steady my nerves, I pushed open the door and entered the humid, steam-filled room.

She stood under the spray, a vision of pale, sculpted grace. Seeing her like that—the curves I knew so well, the sheer beauty of her form—I felt a surge of possessive pride. And yet, that pride was twisted with a strange, altruistic guilt. I felt as though I wasn't enough for her, that her beauty deserved more than I could provide. It was this thought that allowed me to justify Bharath. If I couldn't fulfill her every longing, perhaps letting her find it elsewhere was the ultimate act of a husband's love.

She turned, shaking the water from her hair, and her eyes met mine. The tension from the morning was still there, shimmering between us. I couldn't hold her gaze. I waited until she turned back to the wall of tiles before I stepped forward, wrapping my arms around her damp, warm waist.

"Talk to me," I whispered into the crook of her neck.

"You saw us, didn't you?" Geetha’s voice was low, devoid of its usual softness.

"Yes."

"Then why did you come in?" she asked, her shoulders tensing. "I’m your wife, darling. If you had called for me, I would have come. But to just... disturb us like that..."

"I’m sorry."

"No need of apology. If you hadn't seen, it would be one thing. But you saw."

I turned her around, my hand gently covering her mouth to stop the reprimand. "I felt the need to be there, sweety. You have to accept that."

My greatest fear in this entire arrangement was losing her respect. I could handle the jealousy, but I couldn't handle being small in her eyes.

"Did you think what would he feel?" she asked, her expression softening slightly. "You rattled him this morning."

"That’s why I’m apologizing."

She looked at me sideways, a playful, searching glint entering her eyes as she reached up to cradle the back of my head. "Tell me the truth, darling. Did the sight of us put you in the mood? Or were you already there? How long were you standing there, watching?"

"I had just arrived," I lied, though my voice lacked conviction.

"You should have watched a little longer," she teased, a small smile playing on her lips.

"I couldn't. That’s exactly why I walked in. I was jealous."

"Is that why you were cursing me?" She laughed then, a light, melodic sound. "I liked it. The way you looked at me while you were angry... it made the morning better."

She stood on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to mine. This was the Geetha I adored—the woman who could read the turbulent currents of my soul. But I could see Bharath’s influence in her newfound boldness. The shy girl I married was being replaced by someone more daring.

"Why the drama this morning?" I asked.

"Bharath suggested it," she admitted. "He wanted to see how you’d react if we stayed mute at you."

The mention of his name sent a sharp pang through me. I looked at her, the question I had been rehearsing for days finally reaching my ears. 

"Tell me... do you want him to watch? Do you want to see us do it?"

I didn't answer with words. 

She reached into the waistband of my trunks, her touch deliberate. "Tell me... are you developing a taste for being the observer? Are you a cuckold now?"

The word hit me like a physical blow. It wasn't a term Geetha would use. It was his word.

"Don't overthink it," I said, my voice tight. "There's nothing like that. We only have three days left of this."

"Okay," she said simply. 

We were both performing a delicate dance, hiding our fears behind a veil of casual acceptance.

"Should I stay away for the rest of our time here?" I offered, testing the waters.

"No," she said, hugging me tightly. "Not without you. Thank you for this darling. But please... no more interruptions. Give us the privacy you promised. He respects you, you know. He isn't trying to take your place."

I trust Geetha with my life, even if I couldn't bring myself to trust the man she was spending her mornings with, I can trust my wife.

We dried each other off in a quiet, intimate ritual and returned to the bedroom. She sat on my lap, a fleeting moment of pure affection before the night truly began.

"Are we really moving to Karimnagar?" she asked softly.

"We are."

"Then I’ll resign. I don't want to teach anymore. I’ll just stay home. I’ll be your housewife."

I kissed her nose, feeling the familiar warmth of our age gap—a distance that often made me feel more like her protector than just her husband. "Okay. If that’s what you want."

"It is. Now, about that dress..." She looked at the black garment on the bed. "I’ll wear it once. Just for you. Right here."

I stepped out to the living room to give her space, finding Bharath already waiting. The air between us was thick with things unsaid. We both sat in a silence that was far from peaceful, our eyes fixed on the bedroom door.

When she didn't appear, I went back in. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, looking small and uncertain. I stood her up, struck by how the black fabric contrasted with her skin. The neckline was low, revealing the mount curvy cleavage in a way that made my breath hitch.



"Let's go," I said.

"I can't," she whispered. "Darling, you’re pushing too hard. First Bharath, now this dress in public? It’s too much."

"It’s just for tonight," I urged. "We’re leaving soon."

"I’d rather walk through this house naked for both of you than wear this out there," she countered, though she was smiling now.

"We can arrange that for when we get back," I joked, kissing her. But as I tasted her lips, the image of Bharath doing the same flashed through my mind. I wondered what "new" things he had taught her, what "magic" he possessed that had turned my shy wife into this complicated, sensual woman.


"I look chubby in this," she complained, pulling at the fabric. "I'm sticking with the saree."

"I like the curves in you. That’s the point."

Before she could argue further, the door swung open. Bharath walked in without knocking, his presence immediately claiming the space between us.

"What’s the delay, Miss?" he asked, his voice cutting through the tension. "I’m dying to see how these parties work. Let’s move!"

I watched him closely, my mind racing. I was playing the part of the composed husband, but a nagging doubt gnawed at me. Did he know? Had he overheard our whispers last night? He didn’t show a flicker of the usual hesitation a boy his age should feel around a man like me.

As he approached, Geetha instinctively crossed her arms over her chest, a shield of modesty that felt out of place. Whether it was lingering shyness or a sudden realization of the precarious game we were playing, she looked vulnerable. Bharat, however, didn't care for boundaries.

"Uff… Miss, you look mind-blowing," he murmured, his eyes scanning her with an intensity that made my skin crawl. He stepped past me as if I were a ghost, gently but firmly pulling her hands away to reveal the dress. "Fuck… this dress is superb."

"Oh, stop it," Geetha chided, reaching out to playfuly tug his ear. "You just look for any excuse to flatter me."

Then, Bharat turned his gaze toward me, his expression unreadable. "Gautam Sir… honestly, you should have given her this for her birthday yesterday. It’s perfect."

I remained silent. My pulse quickened. How could he be so casual? He was praising my wife, touching her, and whispering in her ear right in front of me. I had granted this freedom, yes, but the total absence of fear in his eyes unsettled me. It wasn't respect I saw; it was possession.

"What’s wrong, Miss? Let’s go," he urged.

"I can't," Geetha whispered, her voice trembling. "I’m not going out like this."

Bharat stepped closer, his voice dropping to a persuasive hum. "Everyone there wears things like this. Why do you think Sir bought it? Every husband wants to see his wife like this at least once. Beyond taking clothes off, there's a certain thrill in seeing them worn, isn't there?"

The maturity—the raw honesty—of his words caught me off guard. 

He leaned in, his lips brushing against Geetha’s ear as he whispered something private. A flush crept up her neck, her cheeks glowing as she let out a soft, melodic giggle.

To my realisation, there was a magnetic pull between them, a secret current that had brought them to this edge. 

My anxiety doubled. I had set a three-day limit, but watching them now, I feared this may proceed further more.

"I just can’t," Geetha repeated, though her resolve was clearly softening.

I saw my opening to reclaim control. "We are leaving for India the day after tomorrow," I announced, my voice cold and final.

The shock on Bharat’s face was satisfying. He had clearly calculated for more time. "What? I thought we had another day after that."

"No," I clipped. Geetha remained silent, her eyes darting between us.

"Sir, please. Just one more day," Bharat pleaded. He moved behind her, his arms snaking around her waist, pulling her back against him. He buried his face in the crook of her neck. "Once we go home, we won't be able to be like this, will we?"

Geetha looked at me, her eyes wide with confusion and a silent plea for direction. 

Bharat was pushing for something, testing the limits of the game.

"We are leaving. That is final," I said, though my next words felt like lead in my mouth. "If you still want time with Geetha... you can stay at our house for a day once we return."

It was a tactical retreat. By granting him more freedom later, I hoped to maintain my grip on the present. But personal transactions, I realized, are far more taxing than any business deal.

I walked over, determined to assert my place. I gripped Geetha’s shoulders, pulling her out of his reach and into my own embrace. I kissed her deeply, a claim of ownership. Bharat, however, didn't fully retreat; his hands remained firmly planted on her waist.

Trapped between two men, Geetha’s breath hitched. 

Bharat turned her face toward him, his youthful mustache grazing her lip as he tasted her upper lip. 

I watched, a strange, dark fascination taking hold.

Seeing his lips against hers—the contrast of his youth against her elegance—sent a jolt of something I was too proud to call pleasure through me.

He pulled away, leaving her upper lip glistening. I immediately reclaimed her, lifting her chin to taste the cocktail of our combined saliva.

"Stop... please... both of you," she breathed, a flustered smile playing on her lips.

Bharat looked at me, his eyes challenging. "Sir, I want to enjoy this. Don't you?"

I couldn't find the words to lie. Geetha reached up, wrapping her arms around my neck and pulling me down for another kiss. "We can do it in front of him," she whispered. "I know you like that."

The atmosphere shifted instantly. The air grew heavy. "Yes," Bharat whispered from behind her, "I want to watch sir."

The shadow of doubt I had been harboring suddenly felt like a physical weight. I took a deep breath, trying to steady my heart. "Fine. We’ll see about that later. For now, we have a party to attend."

"I’m still not wearing this," Geetha insisted.

"I have an idea," Bharat said, his eyes lighting up. He asked for scissors and, with a precision that betrayed a suspicious amount of experience, he began to transform the outfit. He tore away the mesh, took the black saree from her luggage, and began to dbang it over the dress.

I watched, mesmerized, as he pleated the fabric and tucked it into the skirt. He was barely out of college, yet he handled the saree with the grace of a seasoned lover. When he finished, Geetha looked like a vision—a modern, high-fashion fusion of tradition and provocation.




"How is it, Sir?" he asked.

"It’s... incredible," I admitted.

Geetha looked at her reflection, a playful, dangerous glint in her eyes. "He’s a menace, darling. Always an idea in that head."

Bharat suddenly pulled her toward me, forcing her into my lap. He stood behind us, his hands gripping my biceps, pressing the three of us into a single, tangled mass of heat.

"What do you like most about miss, Sir?" he asked, his voice low.

"Her eyes," I replied.

"No," he countered. "Like in sexual way. What is your favorite part?"

Geetha tried to cover my mouth, blushing furiously. "Bharat, stop! You're going too far."

"Tell me, Sir."

"Her thighs," I confessed.

A triumphant look crossed Bharat’s face. "Hear, Miss?"

The tension was reaching a breaking point. "Enough," I said, standing up and breaking the contact. "We are going."

We separated. I grabbed my suit, put on my boots, and went to get the car.

To get what I want from Bharat, I have no choice but to give Geetha what she desires.

There are three desires here:

• It was her birthday; Geetha asked, and I gave.
  
• Bharat seems to be showing signs of asking for something soon.
  
• But can I ask?
  

.
.
.


To be continued…………

[Kore shivkant]

Great update.....now geetha opening herself for Bharath....she openly asks gawtham not to disturb them....... waiting for the party......... waiting for the next update.....

[Slayer@@]

Awasome update.... Keep going.. Waiting for party

[Devraj048]

Wow nice update... Plz keep this phase of story for long.. It will be very interesting.

[Kore shivkant]

Waiting for the milf session by bharath....how will geetha going to take it???? Waiting for the reaction of Geetha when she getting fucked by gautam infront of Bharat........

[priyad2000]

wow waiting for more action

[NityaSakti]

Bharat will ask Geeta for life and this useless husband will agree to that too. Good going.

[rahulkanna5500]

Bro, this story is pure fire, loved how Bharath get so bold and teases geetha like she not teacher any more, just a neededy women who cant resist. Loved the video call session. Please share the next update soon, dying to see how far it goes with other students.

[Kore shivkant]

Waiting for the next update haran........

[jiivajothii]

50 pages. congratulations.

[Kore shivkant]

I started to read this story for the 2nd time from the start.....it is and will always be the best story ever.......it is awesome no words to explain.......there will be no doubt this story will reach 100+ pages soon...... eagerly waiting for the next update.........

[Ajay Kailash]

Excellent

[Haran000]

Great update.....now geetha opening herself for Bharath....she openly asks gawtham not to disturb them....... waiting for the party......... waiting for the next update.....

Waiting for the milf session by bharath....how will geetha going to take it???? Waiting for the reaction of Geetha when she getting fucked by gautam infront of Bharat........

I started to read this story for the 2nd time from the start.....it is and will always be the best story ever.......it is awesome no words to explain.......there will be no doubt this story will reach 100+ pages soon...... eagerly waiting for the next update.........

Thank you bro

[Haran000]

Awasome update.... Keep going.. Waiting for party

Wow nice update... Plz keep this phase of story for long.. It will be very interesting.

wow waiting for more action

Bharat will ask Geeta for life and this useless husband will agree to that too. Good going.

Bro, this story is pure fire, loved how Bharath get so bold and teases geetha like she not teacher any more, just a neededy women who cant resist. Loved the video call session. Please share the next update soon, dying to see how far it goes with other students.

50 pages. congratulations.

Excellent

Thank you all

[Haran000]

~~~~~~~~~

Happy Republic Day

~~~~~~~~~

[priyad2000]

Happy Republic day