Adultery DISEASE

[OLDWINE]

VISHAL

Natasha's behavior towards me has changed after she yelled at me the other day. I presume, somehow, she has now gained the knowledge that I am suffering from Alzheimer's disease, which I am really not.


Earlier, I decided to drop the act before everyone, but since I had seen Natasha, that newlywed woman was treating me like a nobody. My continuous intrusion into her house or any attempt from my side to be around her was visibly irritating to her.

 I had no choice but to use my fake disease to get close to her. I had no other play left. I am a regular-looking guy who is in his early 50s, and she is a walking-talking diva.

Anyhow, my patience has paid off. Her attitude towards me has mellowed down, and she is apologetic. 

Now that Natasha has grasped that she is dealing with an Alzheimer's patient, I need to up my game.

She told me yesterday that she would come to my house around 10 am today, and the clock on the wall says just five minutes are remaining.

I am nervous. I feel like I am beginning a new chapter in my life.

I take a deep breath when I hear a knock on the door. As soon as Natasha opened it, I put on my best confused and forgetful act. 'He..lloo, I'm sorry, do I...do we know each other?' I ask, pretending to struggle with my memories.

Pity and regret wash over Natasha's face.

"I'm Natasha, your neighbor,' she says with a warm smile. 

I couldn't believe my luck. She was even more beautiful up close. She is wearing a tight salwar suit with a plunging neckline. The tight fabric of the suit accentuates her slim waist, and the bright hues of the suit complimented her skin, making her glow under the warm sun.

"Oh, I know I know...I was joking, Natasha." I put on a faint smile, pretending that I remembered her.

"Of course you do." Natasha plays along; most probably, she does not want me to feel embarrassed about my memory loss.

 My plan was set into motion. I am keeping up the façade of being an Alzheimer's patient while I am around Natasha, giving her the impression that I need her help and attention. For that, I started to leave notes for myself on the refrigerator, on the desk, etc., pretending that I tend to forget things so that she could read those notes and follow the instructions.

Natasha knows the deal, and first, she comes forward to check the table in the drawing room. With each step she took, the bangles on her wrists jingled, adding to the hypnotic aura she exuded.

She hovers over the table, searching for NOTES. 

The thin straps of her Kameez revealed her toned shoulders, while the sheer fabric of the dupatta seductively dbangd over her curves.

She tilts her head, going through the planned gibberish I have written on the table; the bindi on her forehead only enhanced her sultry gaze as she focuses, and the low-cut neckline exposes the perfect swell of her ample bosom, teasingly inviting my wandering eyes.

It took her a few seconds to realize that the notes on the table were not my reminder notes.

She turned and headed towards the refrigerator, just as I anticipated.

"Offf ohh... what are these!!!" Natasha exclaims, stumbling upon the carefully scattered paperweights on the floor.

"Oh, I forgot to pick those up." I get up, feigning concern.

"It's alright,You sit down. I will take care of these." Natasha says in a sweet voice.

She moved with grace, her body fluid and effortless as she crouched down to pick up the scattered paperweights on the floor. Her salwar suit hugged her curves, the fabric clinging onto every inch of her tempting body. 

 The tight fabric of the salwar suit accentuates her slim waist. The slits on the sides of her kurta revealed her toned thighs as she moved, drawing my attention to her long legs.
Once she was done, she finally walked towards the refrigerator in the hall.

Her long, dark hair was styled in loose curls that cascaded down her back, brushing against the curve of her hips.  

 As she took the stamped Note from the refrigerator, the low back of her kurta exposed the smooth expanse of her skin, sending a ripple of desire through my body.

Taking the Note, she reached for the cupboard where my medicines were kept; her dupatta slipped off her shoulder, revealing a glimpse of her milky skin and a slight amount of cleavage. Her bangles chimed softly with her movements, adding to the sensuality of the scene. Her high heels added to her height, making her look even more alluring.

Despite the simplicity of her outfit, there was an undeniable allure about this woman. She exuded an air of confidence, her every action oozing with a subtle hint of femininity and sexiness. 

She moved with elegant ease, her curves swaying delicately with each step she took before coming to me with the medicine.

"Take these Vishal uncle." Natasha insists.

I obliged and took the vitamin tablets, which she thought were medication for my Alzheimer's disease.

Next, on the Note, I wrote down a drama series. Natasha turned on the television and watched that soap with me. We talked about the characters and the drama in between.

I kept on thinking, what should I write on these NOTES for the next day?!!