Adultery My fiancé climbs the corporate ladder

[incest_cuck]

As the lunch meeting drew to a close, I forced a smile onto my face, trying to mask the tumultuous emotions roiling beneath the surface. Supratim's hand lingered on Anita's shoulder, his fingers tracing small circles that seemed to burn into my retinas.

"Well, I should get going," I managed, my voice sounding strained even to my own ears. "Thank you for... accommodating me."

Anita stood, her sari rustling softly as she moved to embrace me. The familiar scent of her jasmine perfume filled my nostrils, momentarily drowning out the musk of Supratim's cologne that seemed to permeate the office.

"Thank you for understanding, Arijit," she murmured, her lips brushing my cheek. "I'll see you at home tonight?"

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. As I turned to leave, Supratim's voice stopped me.

"Oh, Arijit? Don't forget - Anita's birthday is coming up next week. I'm sure you have something... special planned?"

The reminder hit me like a punch to the gut. With all the tension surrounding the upcoming conference, I had completely forgotten. Shame and panic flooded through me as I fumbled for a response.

"Of course," I lied, avoiding Anita's gaze. "It's all taken care of."

As I left the office, my mind raced. I had less than a week to plan something spectacular, something that could compete with whatever lavish gesture Supratim undoubtedly had in store.

As I stepped out of Supratim's office, a tumult of emotions churned within me. The fluorescent lights of the hallway seemed harsh and unforgiving, mirroring the conflicting feelings that threatened to overwhelm me.

My steps felt heavy as I made my way towards the elevator, my mind replaying every moment of that lunch meeting. The casual touches, the loaded glances, the thinly veiled innuendos - they all swirled in my head, forming a nauseating cocktail of insecurity and arousal.

Jealousy gnawed at my insides, a bitter taste rising in my throat as I remembered the way Anita's eyes had lit up at Supratim's praise. The memory of her shy smiles and flushed cheeks in response to his flirtations sent a spike of pain through my chest.

Yet, mingled with the jealousy was an undeniable undercurrent of excitement. The thought of Anita spending a week away with Supratim, the man who had taken her virginity, sent a forbidden thrill coursing through my veins. My cock twitched traitorously in my pants, responding to the illicit scenarios my mind conjured up.

Shame washed over me in waves. What kind of man was I to feel aroused by the idea of my fiancée potentially being seduced by another man? The conflict between my possessive instincts and this unexpected turn-on left me feeling dizzy and disoriented.

As the elevator doors closed behind me, I leaned against the cool metal wall, my heart racing. The image of Supratim's confident smirk and Anita's demure glances burned in my mind's eye. I felt small, inadequate, and yet... strangely exhilarated.

Stepping out into the busy street, I took a deep breath, trying to clear my head. But I knew, deep down, that the events of this lunch would haunt me for days to come. The rest of the afternoon dragged on interminably. I couldn't focus on work, my mind replaying every loaded glance and casual touch between Anita and Supratim. By the time I left the office, my nerves were frayed to breaking point.

I hurried home, a maelstrom of emotions churning in my gut. Our empty apartment felt oppressive, the silence amplifying my racing thoughts. I paced restlessly, rehearsing what I'd say to Anita, then immediately second-guessing myself.

As the sky outside darkened to a deep indigo, I found myself perched on the edge of the sofa, eyes fixed on the door. My heart leapt at every sound in the hallway, anticipating Anita's arrival.

Finally, I heard the jingle of keys. My mouth went dry as the lock turned. The door swung open, and there she was.

"How was your day, love?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

Anita smiled tiredly. "Oh, you know. Busy as always. Supratim's really pushing for this project to be perfect."

I couldn't hold back anymore. "And is that why he needs to touch you so much? To ensure perfection?"

Her eyes widened, then narrowed. "What are you talking about, Arijit?"

"Don't play dumb, Anita. I saw how he was with you today. The way he leaned in, how his hand lingered on your shoulder. And you just... let him."

Anita sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Are we really doing this? Supratim flirts with everyone, Arijit. It's just his way. It doesn't mean anything."

"Doesn't mean anything?" I scoffed. "He was practically undressing you with his eyes!"

"You're being ridiculous," she snapped. "Supratim is my boss. He's helping my career. Do you want me to jeopardize that because you're feeling insecure?"

I felt a pang of guilt, but pushed on. "It's not about insecurity. It's about respect. For me, for our relationship."

Anita's eyes welled up with tears. "I can't believe you don't trust me. After everything we've been through, everything I've sacrificed for us. Do you know how hard I work? How much pressure I'm under?"

Her words hit me like a punch to the gut. I watched as a tear rolled down her cheek, feeling like the world's biggest asshole.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled. "I just... I love you so much. The thought of losing you..."

Anita stepped closer, cupping my face in her hands. "Oh, Arijit. You're not going to lose me. I'm right here. I chose you, remember? You have to trust in that."

As I looked into her big, watery eyes, I felt my resolve crumble. How could I doubt her? I pulled her into a tight embrace, breathing in her scent, trying to ignore the lingering notes of Supratim's cologne.

"I'm sorry," I whispered again. "I trust you. I do."

Anita pulled back, a small smile on her lips. "Good. Now, how about we forget this silly argument and have a nice dinner?"

As she turned towards the kitchen, I couldn't shake the nagging feeling in my gut. But I pushed it aside. I had to trust her. What other choice did I have?

The days flew by in a blur of anxiety and frantic planning. Before I knew it, Anita's birthday had arrived. I woke early, my heart pounding as I picked up the bouquet of roses I had ordered. This had to be perfect. I couldn't let Supratim outdo me, not today. The day crawled by in an agonizing blur of anxiety and anticipation. As evening fell, I found myself outside Anita's office building, clutching a bouquet of roses in my sweaty palm. The startup's modern facade loomed before me, most of its windows now dark. My heart raced as I entered the deserted lobby, my footsteps echoing in the silence.

As I approached Anita's office, bouquet clutched in my sweaty palm, my heart raced with anticipation. The open-plan office was bathed in the dim glow of a few forgotten desk lamps, workstations abandoned for the day. My eyes fixed on the frosted glass door at the far end of the room - Supratim's office. A sliver of light spilled from beneath it.

I noticed Anita wasn't at her desk. A quick glance through the blinds confirmed my suspicions - she was in there with him. My throat tightened as I crept closer, pressing my ear against the cool glass.

"Anita, you look absolutely radiant today," Supratim's deep voice purred. "That modest outfit can't hide your beauty."