Adultery Knowing My Wife, Knowing Me As Well - part III

[krish_999]

Chapter - 46

Despite my self-doubts, I was determined to stay patient. I wanted Meera for myself, and I was committed to finding a way to happiness between us. I knew that if I could do it before, I could do it again. With time and persistence, I believed I’d eventually give her the pleasure she deserved.

 
The next morning, while I was at work, Maithrei phoned me. Seeing her name on the screen, I felt a hint of last night’s thrill.
“Hey,” she greeted me softly. I could tell she was calling just to hear my voice, maybe to relive the heat of last night in the close confinement of my car.
"How are you doing?" I asked casually.
She gave a light laugh. "Still carrying a hangover, I think."
“But you only had two pegs,” I teased.
"Two pegs! Mr. Krish, please don’t make me talk about it.” She giggled, clearly aware of my teasing tone.
“Come on. What would you talk about?”
A pause, then a sigh. "Nothing,” she replied, but I sensed she wanted to say more. She continued, “You know, it felt… well, like a little girl who’s waiting for her birthday gift. And when she finally gets it, the gift turns out to be beyond anything she’d imagined. Except… I didn’t even know when my birthday was; I was just waiting."
I laughed lightly, “Don’t tell me you’re planning on ditching your husband for me, Maithrei.”
“Krish, stop teasing me, alright?” She said. “I know what it was. I know the boundaries. What about you? How do you see it?”
“I told you, it was worth it,” I answered smoothly.
“No, you didn’t say that. That was my line.”
“Yours, mine—what’s the difference? It was us.”
I heard her smile through the phone, “You’re right,” she murmured.
A brief pause hung between us before she spoke again. “Just… don’t tell anyone about it, okay? Especially not Desai.”
“I don’t plan on telling anyone,” I replied, though I couldn’t resist asking, “But… why are you so wary of Desai?”
She said, “I moved on from him a long time ago. And truthfully, he moved on from me first. Since then, I’ve kept it professional, more or less.”
“More or less?”
“Yes, well… with him, things have a way of getting complicated,” she admitted. “If he gets curious about us… he’d start finding reasons to talk about it. Talking with him always leads somewhere.”
I realized this was why she probably had no idea what was happening between Desai and Meera. I hesitated, then asked, “So… I guess you’ve completely moved on from him?”
 
“Yes, Krish. But I’ll admit, if he knew about this, he’d get excited,” she added, her tone half-joking, half-knowing. “That’s… something in his genes, I guess.”
 
Even though she sounded like she was joking, I couldn’t ignore the fact that she, as a psychologist, probably has read Desai better than anyone could. As our call ended, I found a sense of relief. If Maithrei had managed to get rid of Desai’s hold, maybe it really was possible for others too.
 
It wasn’t that I felt no remorse after the night with Maithrei; I kept thinking about the hypocrite I had become. There were moments when I considered confessing to Meera, but every time I thought about it, I hesitated. How could I say anything without seeming like a hypocrite? After all, I had confronted her after she slept with Desai. Admitting what I had done would only expose my double standards, and I couldn’t bear the thought of how that would make me look – to her or even to myself.
Deep down, I acknowledged that I was indeed a hypocrite. I had questioned her ability to exercise self-control while I had failed to do the same for myself. As I considered my options, I decided it was best to wait. Maybe there would be a time to be honest with her, but not now.
There was also a strange sense of relief in what had happened with Maithrei. It felt as if it had lifted some of the tension I had been carrying since Meera’s betrayal. It helped me set aside my anger toward her and Desai, almost like I had let go of some of the bad feelings tied to their night together. My encounter with Maithrei had come at just the right time; I felt calmer, almost at peace, as though I’d regained a bit of control over my own emotions.
So, I decided to keep it to myself.
 
A week after the concert, Desai video-called me at the office. He, too, was at work, but no matter how professional the setting, I couldn’t shake the image of him – nude, muscular, on my bed, with my wife. The memory of him grunting and thrusting between her spread legs dried my throat. I forced a smile, but it felt hollow.
The conversation started off business-like, but eventually, he asked, "How’s Meera doing?"
I hesitated before responding and then asked, “Why didn’t you come to talk to her at the concert? I thought you'd come over to have a chat with her.”
“I wanted to, bro,” Desai said casually. “But I held back somehow. I didn’t want to per her in a tough spot, especially with Piyush around. Anyways, when we went for food after the event, we had a nice, cool chat.”
Especially with Piyush around. Of course, because Piyush knew that Meera had slept with him.
Desai was bragging about his so-called self-control and sensibility, but I knew what he had done in reality. I had seen it – how he had overpowered Meera’s resistance, his raw hunger consuming her. Yet here he was, acting as if he had handled everything with restraint.
“Thanks for caring about our life, Desai,” I said, keeping my voice steady. “I’ve been working hard to move on from the past, too. I think I’ve finally found contentment living a normal life with Meera. Just the two of us, like any regular husband and wife – purely attached to each other.”
Desai’s response came after a second’s pause, “My heart goes out to you too, Krish.”
I pushed a little further. “You should find someone for yourself, Desai. It’s time you stop chasing married women and focus on singles.”
Desai chuckled, “I’ll take that advice, man.”
 
The next time he called me was a week later. I was at the office when he phoned to say he had been approached by a business group that wanted security services for a new venture they were launching in Mumbai. However, their business was located on the outskirts of the city.
“One of their earlier ventures is just outside Pune,” Desai said. “I think you could benefit more from this than I could. I’m going to recommend Vickey Security Services to them if you’re interested. You should let them know that you’re ready to take on the security responsibilities for both of their ventures in Pune and Mumbai.”
 
It was a promising expansion opportunity for me. When the group contacted me, I followed Desai’s advice exactly. The team was impressed with Vickey Security Services. They soon decided to cut ties with their previous security providers and signed an agreement with my company.
I was thrilled with the sudden signing of two business deals – it felt like hitting the jackpot. My business was growing, and I ended up hiring more guards to meet the demand.
 
When I called Desai to express my gratitude, he said, “A thank-you over the phone isn’t enough, Krish. A big party is long overdue.”
I laughed, “You’re right, Desai. Let’s see if we can both find a free weekend.”
Even though I replied positively, I didn’t initiate anything to find a free weekend. A party would mean inviting him closer into my life again, and after everything, I wasn’t in a rush for that.
But the fate had other decisions.
 
Almost three weeks passed, and then there was a grand wedding in our neighbourhood. Ritu, the only daughter of Mr Sharma, fondly mentioned by all as Sharma Ji, one of the prominent figures in the area, was getting married. Known for his friendly nature and generosity, Sharma Ji’s daughter’s wedding was anticipated to be a lavish affair. Not a day passed without hearing a new development about the event.
 
As the preparations progressed, Mr Sharma approached me with a special request. He wanted me to personally invite Desai, who had become somewhat known to him from his occasional visits during his stay at my place. My mind was on high alert the moment I heard his name.
Desai, back in my social obligations. I didn’t like the thought, but social expectation left me no room to decline.
As a gesture of respect, though reluctantly, I dialled Desai’s number and placed the call on speaker, giving Sharma Ji the opportunity to speak directly. Hearing the ringing tone felt like I was dialling up memories I had tried hard to bury.
When Desai picked up, Sharma Ji excitedly shared the news. “Desai Ji, my daughter is getting married,” he said cheerfully. He went on to talk about the details before inviting Desai. “We’ve reserved ten rooms at a local hotel for our guests, but if you prefer, you can stay at Krish’s place. I know you’d prefer to stay with your close friend, but I will surely respect your choice in that. It’s entirely up to you, but you must come to the party.”
Sharma Ji looked at me expectantly, hoping I’d support his request. It was an offer I wished I didn’t have to make. I gripped the phone tightly as memories of the concert night flashed through my mind – Desai in my house, in my bed, and his hands on Meera’s body.
Desai’s silence on the other end made me realize that I had no choice but to side with Sharma Ji.
“You can stay with us, Desai. It’s just an evening. You’ll be catching the earliest return flight in the morning.”
I had to force the words out. The very idea of Desai entering my house again, sharing space with me and Meera, felt suffocating. But I had no choice. I didn’t want Desai to sense that I knew what he had done to Meera. I also didn’t want Sharma Ji to think things weren’t right between us.
Desai finally responded, “Thank you, Krish. And thank you, Sharma Ji. I’m honoured to have your invitation. I’ll surely be there with you for this auspicious occasion.”
I forced a smile at Sharma Ji as the call ended. He walked away pleased, oblivious to the inner storm brewing in me. My thoughts were already on fire.
 
I had no idea how Meera would react to Desai’s return. I only knew that the memories his presence would stir in her mind would be more vivid than mine. I wasn’t sure what those memories would do to her. Would she like it? Would she hate it? Or worse, would she hate me for forcing her to revisit those memories? So many questions, without answers. The only certainty was that Desai was coming back – whether I was ready or not.
 
When Meera learned about Desai staying at our house for the wedding, she was visibly upset and voiced her anger as soon as we were alone.
“Why did you invite him to stay here?” she asked. “This is just going to bring up all the old issues again.”
I tried to explain my side. “Meera, if I had told him no, he might have guessed that something was off. He could’ve realized I knew about that night, since I’ve shown no issues with him until now. Even after that incident, we’ve had numerous discussions for professional reasons. Even the recent deal signings; I’m not saying I am taking favours from him. I’m saying I’ve been acting cool around him because that’s the best way to keep him away, right? If he found out I was aware all along, it wouldn’t go over well. Besides, I thought keeping our issues private would be better. That’s why I couldn’t refuse Sharma Ji.”
But Meera shook her head. “Krish, I’m not comfortable with him being here. I thought we were trying to move on from all of this.”
I understood her concerns. After being unable to stop him from imposing himself on her – and eventually giving in to him like a longing partner – Meera would now be embarrassed to face him in my presence. It would be challenging for her to act as though nothing had happened, especially since Desai didn’t know I was aware of it all.
“Then maybe you could talk to him privately. Call him and ask him not to stay at our house. Tell him you don’t want to see him here,” I suggested.
Meera stared at me. “You want me to call him?”
“It’s just one call. What’s the issue?”
“I’m not talking to him,” she replied firmly. “Never.”
I told her I understood, but the decision had already been made. I tried to reassure her. “We’ll manage, Meera. It’s only for one night, and we’ll be at the function venue for most of it. We can handle this.”
 
Despite my attempts to calm her, Meera remained nervous. As the wedding date approached, her tension grew. One day, she said she was ready to take my suggestion. She said she could convince Desai to stay at a hotel instead of our place.
I said okay.
Meera grabbed her phone and stared at Desai's phone number on its screen. I could see the hesitation brewing inside her.
“No.” Meera shook her head in disgust. “I can’t do it. I don’t want to talk to him.”
Watching her reluctance at the thought of speaking with Desai gave me an unexpected sense of satisfaction.
“It’s okay, baby.” I assured her, “You’re worrying too much, Meera. Just because he’s staying at our house doesn’t mean we’re welcoming him back into our lives. We’re not hosting him; Sharma Ji is. We’re just friends attending the same wedding. I told you, we can handle this, baby.”
 
To be honest, I was also anxious about the whole thing. The thought of Desai’s visit stirred up troubling memories, and I knew I’d have to confront vivid recollections of him with Meera. As the wedding day drew closer, my apprehension grew, and so did my curiosity. A part of me was eager to see how Meera would act around him. The prospect of seeing Desai and Meera interact again evoked unsettling images in my mind, intensifying my discomfort. Memories of their intimacy – the way he was with her, and how she responded – kept intruding, filling me with a mix of anxiety and unease.
 
Even though Meera was tense about Desai's arrival, she didn’t let it affect her preparations for the wedding. We went shopping together, and Meera meticulously picked out matching outfits for us, determined that our clothes would complement each other perfectly. As we headed back from our shopping trip, I mentioned how glad I was to see her moving on from her worries about Desai’s return.
Meera looked at me and slowly said, “I wish I could say I’ve moved on, Krish. But I know it’s not that easy.”
I gently squeezed her hand and nodded understandingly.
 
The wedding of Ritu - Sharma Ji’s daughter - was indeed a grand affair, spanning over three consecutive days.
They began with the Mehendi ceremony held at a beautifully decorated venue near our housing complex. Meera chose to get ready at a boutique each day. I got ready at home and reached the venue directly. When Meera arrived at the venue, she was adorned in a stunning yellow lehenga with a striped-back blouse. The intricate mehendi designs on her hands and feet looked like delicate ornaments, accentuating her beauty. The bright yellow fabric and the half-sleeved blouse highlighted her elegance, drawing admiring glances as she mingled with the guests. Meera’s perfect look made me wonder if she might outshine the bride herself. Nevertheless, she seamlessly blended into the lively atmosphere.
During the ceremony, mehendi was applied in elaborate patterns on Ritu’s hands and feet, and she was surrounded by family and friends who enjoyed the ritual. The event was not just about the Mehendi but also about celebrations including some dancing and music, followed by a feast of traditional food.
 
The following day brought the wedding eve party, a more formal event but a precursor to the main event. Desai arrived in the evening, and as promised, I had arranged for him to stay at our house. It was the first time I was meeting him in real after the concert night. I welcomed him with a calm smile, hiding any anxiety I might have felt. Meera had already left for the boutique when Desai arrived, making the situation more comfortable for both of us. I showed Desai his old room and prepared coffee for us. As I watched him sip his coffee slowly, I couldn’t help but notice the shape of his lips, which triggered memories of those same lips savouring Meera's lips and tongue the other day. I struggled to breathe, unsure of how to process these thoughts.
After coffee, we got ready for the wedding party. Desai looked dashing in a blue checkered suit, while I wore an orange suit with white pants. Upon reaching the party hall, I looked curiously for Meera but she had not yet arrived.
When Meera eventually arrived, she was a sight to behold in a striking orange saree with a sleeveless blouse. The neatly folded pleats of her saree revealed a partial view of her breasts, adorned in a golden embroidered blouse, and offered a glimpse of her soft belly and navel from the side as she walked. Even I was left standing motionless and staring at her. A moment later as I took my eyes off her, I noticed Desai’s gaze following her with unmistakable admiration.
Desai greeted her with a compliment, “You look absolutely radiant tonight, Meera. That saree is stunning on you.”
Meera’s eyes lingered on him a bit longer than I expected before she responded with a genuine smile, clearly enjoying the attention. “Thank you, Susheel.”
Her calm and confident behaviour initially surprised me. She seemed at ease around Desai, contrary to my earlier concerns. It somewhat disappointed me, and I quickly realised that it was my jealousy kicking in. Desai was a man who had presented her enormous amount of pleasure in bed, and to have him receive warm reception from her contrary to her earlier claim that he would intimidate her was the opposite of what I had been expecting. I tried hard to concentrate on the present, rather than getting lost in the past.
Meera’s appearance continued to fascinate the guests and enhanced the celebratory mood of the evening. The party featured great food and drinks, further elevated by a staged performance of music and dance. Meera and I mostly stayed together, while Desai took his time catching up with the other guests, particularly by Sharma Ji and his friends. Sharma Ji was impressed by the conversation he witnessed Desai having with his friends and later thanked me for convincing him to attend the event. As I mentioned Desai was planning to leave in the morning, Sharma Ji requested him to stay for the wedding night as well. I could only wish Sharma Ji somehow learnt about my unease about hosting Desai for another night.
After some encouragement, Desai asked for my opinion, and I naturally supported Sharma Ji’s request. Desai eventually agreed to extend his stay for one more day.
During the peak of the dance program, Desai joined Meera and me to watch the performance. Before heading to dinner, we posed for photos with the bride and family. Desai took this opportunity to ask me and Meera to pose for a photo that he clicked on his phone. Following that, he asked Meera if she would pose for a photo with him.
“Fan request,” he quipped, looking into her eyes. I saw Meera blush. More than anything else, the duration Meera's eyes stayed hooked onto his burnt me from the inside. I could literally weigh my jealousy in grams.
Desai handed me his phone and posed with her. As I began to click the photo, I noticed how Desai wrapped his arm around her waist. Meera’s face was suddenly red – only I could notice it – but she covered it with a smile to make it difficult to gauge her feelings. She slowly touched her forehead, and as if putting a hair strand in place she looked down and I felt she murmured something. And I watched Desai removing his hand off her.
She had issued a warning to him! My heartbeat rose at the sight, so unsure of how to react to myself of the discovery that Meera had let him known that he wasn’t welcome to touch her body anymore. On one hand, Meera was making him learn he wasn’t welcome; and on the other hand, she was compelled to make her reaction so subtle.
Nevertheless, they looked like a perfect couple just by standing close; and as their faces came close it sent chills down my spine, as I felt there was no way they wouldn’t be affected by each other’s memories from the other night. I could remember how fiercely Meera had tried to stop him that day, and how she was moaning with pleasure on the same night. I knew I can’t deem her hostile gestures reliable when the other person is Desai. For a moment, I wondered if he would repeat that night again, if he got the chance tonight. The thought frightened me.
However, Meera soon walked away from Desai and joined me. I felt an overwhelming desire to kiss her immediately, to have her look at me with the same intensity I knew she had with Desai, and to make passionate love to her in our bed. The glow on her face was driving me so crazy that I wanted to lick all over her face while fucking her in our bed until she screamed how much she loved it. The thought of her past intimacy with Desai was now intensifying my longing for her.
After the function, we returned home late. I drove the car with Desai in the front seat and Meera in the rear. The drive was filled with casual conversation, but I noticed that Meera and Desai were not interacting directly. They seemed keen to maintain their distance, which reassured me that Meera was focused on keeping things respectful and avoiding any further complications.
That night, as I bade Desai goodnight, I was dying to get back to Meera. When I reached our room, Meera had already removed her saree, and was wearing just her sleeveless blouse and underskirt, having removed the saree. I quickly threw my suit away, and wrapped my arms around her from behind. I could sense my dick poking behind her.
She turned to face me, my heart racing with the intensity of the moment. Her desire matched mine. I cupped her face in my hands and kissed her deeply, our mouths exploring and savouring the connection between us. The kiss was passionate, and I felt Meera was horny as hell as I had been in the night.
As we climbed onto the bed, Meera eagerly lifted her skirt, and I quickly unbuttoned my trousers. Our movements were hurried, driven by the need to quench our thirst and unearth the emotions we had been holding back. I guided myself into her, and quickly I learned how wet she was.
“You are so wet, mmm…,” I whispered.
“Fuck me, Krish.”
Meera gasped.
I didn’t waste any further time as I started fucking her with raw energy and intimacy. The end of the night brought a powerful and fulfilling release that I felt I had been craving for so long.
 
Even though I slept happy and satisfied that night, I woke up tensed the next morning. Desai was still in the house, and I knew he would be there for the entire day. When I accepted Sharma Ji’s request to let Desai stay with us, I hadn’t expected that his stay would extend for two nights and a full day. It was an unexpected development, which I hadn’t even had told Meera.
As soon as I woke up, I told Meera the truth. “When Sharma Ji insisted that Desai stay, I had to play along, Meera. It would’ve looked really bad in front of him if I’d refused.”
 
At first, Meera was angry, her frustration evident in her facial expression. But after a moment, she softened. “I get it. You didn’t have much choice.” She nodded and then went on. “I was feeling good about the wedding, but it’s making me anxious that Desai would be here for another day.”
“That shouldn’t’ be a problem, actually,” I said, trying to sound casual. “He’s not going to try anything stupid.”
Meera shook her head. “It’s not that. It’s just... I feel like he exploited my weakness that night. I don’t know if you believe me, Krish, but I tried to stop him. I told him not to come to the house that night. He insisted he needed to talk, and then he just got... persistent. After a while, I gave up trying to push him away. I was weak. Desperate, I guess.” She let out a shaky breath. “I’ve started to hate him for that. That’s why I don’t want to see him around.”
Her words instantly made me feel better. At least she wasn’t hiding her anger towards Desai, and that was a relief.
“Don’t worry,” I assured her. “I’ll manage the situation. We’ll be fine.”
 
It was a holiday, so we both were home, and hopeful that nothing was going to go wrong.
At breakfast, Meera acted like everything was normal, treating Desai like any other guest, but I could see the tension in her eyes. She avoided looking directly at him, almost like his presence was making her uncomfortable. I couldn’t tell if it was his mere presence or if her mind was haunted by the memories of that night – memories of her body getting dominated by the insane pleasure only he could provide. As I thought about the latter, the visuals from that night resurfaced my mind, and even I felt intimidated by sitting next to Desai. He had made my wife scream with orgasmic pleasure that night, and I had cummed in my pants. We both had no right to blame him because we both had a thrill ride, I felt. But now, the possibility that my wife might be cherishing it – even though unintentionally - made me jealous. If Meera was thinking of that night too, I wondered if it was enough to warm her body the way it did mine. The way Desai had pushed himself deep into her, making her cry out, was still fresh in my memory. I would never forget those visuals, no matter how hard I tried.
As my thoughts gathered, my tension increased. Every smile I exchanged with Desai felt forced. On the surface, it was easy to look pleasant, but underneath that, I was struggling to keep my emotions in check.
Luckily, after breakfast, Desai announced he had to go out and wouldn’t be back until after lunch. As soon as he left, Meera and I let out a collective sigh of relief. For now, we had a reprieve.
 
As soon as Desai left, I turned to Meera. “Meera, I didn’t realize how much his presence would affect me. This is harder than I thought.”
She gave me a soft smile, “you don’t have to fight your thoughts, Krish. They’ll die down eventually. I get it... I’m affected too. You’ve only just learned about it, but I’ve been struggling to push those memories out of my mind since it happened. We shouldn’t have brought him back into this house. But what’s the point in saying that now?”
Her words only fed my curiosity. “What do you think about…what happened that night?”
Meera’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Don’t ask. You’re only going to make it worse for yourself. Don’t tempt those thoughts.” She reached out casually and touched my groin. To my embarrassment, I was caught with an erection.
Her eyes widened, “see? You’re already hard!” A teasing grin spread across her face.
Trying to hide my embarrassment, I moved closer and wrapped my arms around her. “Don’t you like it?” I asked.
She looked up at me with that familiar playful spark in her eyes, and without a word, brought her lips to mine. That was it. The moment we kissed, our tension exploded and evaporated. Before either of us realized what was happening, we were undressing each other, eager and impatient. I didn’t even bother fully undressing as I hurried to shove my member into her.
To no surprise, she was already wet and smooth. I entered her fully with just one thrust.
“Aahhh… Krish…” she gasped.
“Baby, you feel so good,” I whispered in her ear.
“Fuck me, Krish… fuck me hard…” her voice felt like begging. I loved it. It lit a fire inside me.
“I’m gonna fuck you hard, baby…” I growled, thrusting into her with more force. Meera gasped again, her arms tightening around me.
“Just love me… aaaah…”
“You’re mine, baby… only mine… he can only stare at you.”
“Yes… I’m all yours… he can only wish…”
Her words sent me over the edge. Even before I could get a hint of what was coming, I was shooting my load into her. I grunted out a few breathless words to signal I was done and collapsed on top of her, panting heavily.
“Oh my god…what was that? A storm!” Meera laughed.
“I’m sorry, baby,” I said, sliding off her, but she quickly turned to pinch my cheek playfully.
“Don’t apologize. It’s fine. I know you were excited,” she said.
It wasn’t the fact that I finished too quickly that embarrassed me – it was that she had called me out on being excited, and we both knew why. I hadn’t even admitted it to myself yet.
“I should’ve waited until tonight,” I said sheepishly.
“Come on, Krish. It’s alright,” Meera reassured me again as she began adjusting her clothes, putting everything back in place.
I couldn’t help but remember how I had wanted to savour her lips and lick all over her face during the wedding eve party, how I longed to kiss her and take my time. I had a chance to do it, as I was sure she was horny to let me do whatever I wanted. But I had ended it all in a rush. I felt bad.
Desai didn’t return until late in the afternoon. When he walked back into the house, I greeted him as if nothing had happened, but inside, I felt a strange sense of secret satisfaction. The memory of my quick but intense lovemaking session with Meera earlier felt far more gratifying now than it had in the moment itself.
 
That lovemaking session seemed to have eased Meera's tension as well, as she began responding to Desai in a more friendly way.
Earlier in the day, Desai had asked her about the boutique she had been visiting for the wedding preparations, but her reply had been a cold one: “I don’t remember its name.”
However, in the afternoon, I overheard her casually chatting with him about the quality of services provided by that boutique.
 
That night, the third day, was the actual wedding day. Meera left for the boutique early as usual, while Desai and I took our time getting ready at home. I finished dressing first and waited in the living room. Desai soon emerged, dressed in a dark green suit. He looked at his best with his confident getup.
Meera arrived at the wedding venue about ten minutes after we did. Her entrance was nothing short of striking. She wore a breath-taking green lehenga with a sleeveless blouse. The lehenga was both stunning and sexy, covering above her navel but still revealing just enough to accentuate her curves while maintaining an air of elegance. The midriff-baring blouse showcased her toned stomach, and the sleeveless design highlighted the beauty of her arms.
As she approached, I couldn’t take my eyes off her, utterly captivated by her beauty. Desai, too, seemed fascinated. He smiled and said, “Meera, you look absolutely mesmerizing today. Even Krish is having a tough time looking away. I’m just a fan.”
Meera responded with nothing more than a polite smile and a nod. I felt she could’ve been a bit more responsive, but her indifference was apparent.
Desai had sensed the tension. He then asked, “Meera, are you upset with me? Have I done something wrong?”
It was the moment I had been expecting. Meera’s cold attitude toward him had been obvious, especially in front of me, and it seemed Desai had finally decided to talk it out.
Meera stole a glance at me before responding, “no, Susheel. It’s just a headache. It’s third day, right?”
Later, when we were alone, Desai turned to me and asked, “Do you have any idea why Meera’s being so cold? Has something happened between us that I’m not aware of?”
I pretended surprise. “Is she being rude? I hadn’t noticed. When did this happen?”
I had no intention to acknowledge that I had learnt about what happened on the concert night. But I was sure he could easily guess that the reason for Meera's hostile stance toward him was what happened on that night. Perhaps he had come expecting some signs of intimacy, assuming that the pleasure he had given her then would lead to a warm reception, but instead, he was getting none.
 
Later, I saw Meera being pulled into a conversation by one of our neighbours, Kailash, along with Desai. I watched as Meera smiled at Kailash’s response and then looked into Desai’s eyes. I felt their eye contact lingered longer than I remembered during the entire day. Meera said something, and I clearly noticed her blushing. I felt my heartbeats rising.
Meera was standing close to him, sharing a joke, smiling, or even offering a casual nod – each little gesture seemed to indicate she was slowly softening toward him. It made me uneasy. A part of me knew there was no way Desai could repeat the events of that concert night, but another part of me kept worrying over the unknown future of his visit.
When I got Meera alone, I asked her about what she had been smiling about with Desai.
“Kailash was teasing Susheel about his clothing, especially when he said he was staying with us. We’re all wearing green, you know,” she said.
I then noticed that Desai's suit was the same shade as her blouse. I was also wearing a suit in a similar colour, intended to match Meera’s outfit. At first, I thought his clothes matched hers better than mine, but then I realized I might be overthinking it.
 
As Meera moved through the magnificent looking mandap, her attire captured the attention and admiration of everyone present. The wedding ceremony itself was a beautiful blend of rituals and traditions, with the bride and groom exchanging vows amidst stunning decorations. Ritu, the bride, was in a sophisticated yet fabulous bridal outfit, complete with traditional jewellery and intricate makeup, adding to the grandeur of the occasion.
As we paused together with the newly married couple, I couldn’t resist the urge to caress the back of Meera's midriff casually. She made a playful face at me, a mix of surprise and amusement, before smiling warmly. Her smile was a silent acknowledgment of our shared intimacy, even amid the grand celebrations. I wished if Desai saw it and the thought excited me.
 
The guests were treated to a lavish feast, which included a corner dedicated to colourless alcoholic drinks. I took Meera’s arm and led her to the counter, where I ordered drinks for us. I saw Desai approaching, and quickly turned to order a drink for him as well. As we raised our glasses for a toast, Desai declared, “To this unexpected occasion of finding happiness.”
We finished our drinks in one go. Meera stared at us, then tugged at my shirt.
“Are you crazy?” she asked.
I gestured toward Desai. “I was just following his lead.”
Meera turned to Desai, and I didn’t miss the mischievous smile on her face.
“Stop ruining my husband, Susheel.”
“When did I ruin him?” Desai asked.
Meera made a face at him. “Do I really need to tell you that?”
Desai only smiled in response, his eyes clearly unwilling to let her go. Eventually, Meera looked away. I noticed she didn’t turn her face toward me for a while.
 
The celebrations continued with dancing and music that lasted into the night. The couple dance session was a high point of the celebration. As one of the most admired couples, Meera and I were invited to join the dance floor. We danced together, enjoying the festive spirit and the elegance of the celebration. The audience was caught in a spell as Meera flawlessly made her moves on the floor, and I just matched her with some slow steps. But as the song changed after a few minutes, I found Meera's arms circling around me, and I felt the energy growing inside me. The dance floor was getting filled with energy was the mood was becoming electric.
Desai was among the onlookers, and I felt a surge of exhilaration. Here I was, dancing with the woman he had once desired intensely, the woman who had been the focus of his attention. As I held Meera close, one arm resting around her waist and the other holding her hand, I felt a profound sense of joy. The cheering crowd seemed to fuel my enthusiasm, and I moved with Meera, savouring the closeness. I allowed my fingers to explore her curves, touching her softly, feeling the warmth of her body pressed against mine.
Meera responded positively, her body moving in sync with mine as we danced. It felt like a celebration of our bond, a public declaration of our love and connection. I could sense that despite any lingering tension, she was comfortable and engaged with me in that moment.
 
As the dance ended, Desai approached us with a casual smile. “That was some performance,” he said, his tone easy, but the intensity in his gaze was unmistakable. “You were watching?” Meera asked with feigned innocence, but I could tell she knew. She was aware of his attention, and it was clearly getting to her.
“What else would I be doing?” Desai chuckled.
“Didn’t you get jealous?” she shot back, her eyes locking with his for a moment.
Desai hesitated, and then shrugged. “You have no idea. I was burning.”
Meera’s expression softened for just a second. Her cheeks had turned redder. I could see the satisfaction in her eyes, but she turned away, forcing herself to walk off without further engagement. It was as if every step away from him was a struggle, a fight against her own urge to acknowledge him more.
 
I stayed behind, moving closer to Desai, eager to press him. “Why the jealousy, man? She was dancing with her husband.”
Desai laughed softly, “I know, but when I saw you two... I wished I could be you. I’m sure half the men watching felt the same.”
I felt a sudden thrill. “Why?”
“Because you’re the only one who gets to have her, to dance with her like that. You’re the lucky one,” Desai admitted, his voice low, almost defeated. “You're the only one with that privilege.”
The honesty in his words awakened something inside me, a kind of arousal at how much he desired her, and how much control that gave Meera over him. I leaned in slightly. “You still have hots for my wife.”
Desai sighed, not meeting my eyes this time. “I won’t lie. Yes, I do. But I can only wish, right, Krish?"
It was the most pleasing thing that I had heard from him in a while. It was a revelation that he had been a man burning with jealousy because another man had the power and skill to entertain his dream woman in a way he could only wish - and that 'another' man was me.
I smiled. “Yeah, you can only wish.”
 
When I walked over to Meera later, I told her, “He’s jealous of me. Because I have you.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Is he still trying to get to me?”
“Maybe,” I shrugged. “Let him be jealous. It’s making him desperate.”
Her face hardened. “It’s one thing to feel jealous, but telling you about it? That’s not okay.” I could sense her frustration. She wasn’t just angry at Desai; there was something else simmering inside her.
 
Throughout the night, I watched her struggle. Every time Desai tried to engage her in conversation, she responded with short replies and cold tones, resisting the warmth I knew she felt. It wasn’t just about rejecting him – it was about controlling her own emotions, fighting against the part of her that wanted to talk to him. I could see the battle, and it was making her nervous no matter how much she wanted to hide it. The friendly chats she was having with other guests and our neighbours were starting to feel like forced ones.
 
Later, when we were alone for a moment, I brought it up. “You’re making it so obvious that you’re affected by him.”
“I told him not to expect anything from me anymore,” Meera said, her voice strained. “But it’s hard, Krish. He’s still trying.”
“Trying for what?” I asked, though I knew the answer.
“He’s desperate for me. He wants... something. I can feel it every time he looks at me.”
 
The truth hit me then – she wasn’t just rejecting him for my sake. She was fighting her own need to keep things clear. But the weight of Desai’s attention was suffocating her, and I could feel how much it aroused me too, knowing she was the centre of his world that night. Suddenly my mind was again getting filled by the thoughts I had on the previous night.
 
This was a man whose every gaze at Meera would be powerful enough to remind her about the pleasure he had in offer for her; like the other night. What on earth would make her forget those moments? How could she erase the memories of the intimate mouth-to-mouth breathings he shared with her that night, while fucking her? I could only try taking deep breath, in an attempt to take my mind off these thoughts.
 
When Desai confronted her after dinner, eventually, it was clear he couldn’t take the silence anymore. “You haven’t given me a chance to speak, Meera. What’s wrong?”
“There’s nothing to say, Susheel,” she replied, her voice weak. “I’m not interested in talking.”
“But it hurts,” he said, his tone softer than I could imagine.
Meera turned to him, her face unreadable. “Maybe that’s the intention,” she whispered, and then walked away.
 
Desai was left standing there, wounded. I looked at him, offering only a small shrug, secretly enjoying the rejection he faced. There was something deeply satisfying about watching him suffer; knowing that he still wanted her but couldn’t have her.
 
As we got ready to leave, I found a moment to speak to Meera privately. “You’ve left him so desperate, Meera. He’d probably give up his entire business if you offered him a chance tonight.”
She laughed softly, but there was tension in her smile. “Do you have your eye on his business?”
I chuckled. “No, but I am curious. Are you offering him that chance?”
We laughed together, but Meera’s laughter died quickly. “I’m anxious, Krish. This isn’t normal for me. I don’t know why, but he’s getting under my skin tonight.”
“Maybe because you know how much he’s longing for you,” I said softly. “It’s driving him mad.”
Meera sighed. “Please, don’t let him come to our house again. I can’t deal with this anymore.”
I literally saw her eyes flutter with tension, a strange sense of absurdity hanging over her behaviour. She was dressed to kill, to entice and impress everyone at the wedding, yet only she knew how tense she truly was. It was unbelievable that her mind was so dominated by thoughts of Desai, the man she wanted to hate, especially when the truth remained that most men at the wedding would be jealous of my privilege of being hers – just like Desai had told me.
 
As we drove home after the wedding, Desai kept up the conversation with me, talking about the wedding, but my mind was elsewhere. Meera sat in the back, quiet, clearly lost in her own thoughts. I could feel the tension radiating off her. Desai’s attention, his desperate longing, had shaken her deeply. And as much as I wanted to comfort her, I couldn’t help but feel aroused by the entire situation.
It was clear that this night wasn’t just about Desai’s desire for her – it was about her own struggle to maintain control, to resist the pull of his admiration. And that struggle had become intoxicating for both of us.
 
By the time we reached home, the weight of my arousal was undeniable, and I couldn’t hide my eagerness to get to bed early.
“See you in the morning, Desai. You’re not leaving without having breakfast with us,” I said, throwing my arm around Meera as we stood at the door. She handed Desai a water jug, clearly in on my teasing, and carefully removed my hand from her shoulders.
“Goodnight, Susheel,” she whispered, slipping past us and heading to our bedroom without waiting for his response.
Desai looked at me, confusion etched on his face. “Krish, do you have any idea why she hates me so much?”
I couldn’t believe his audacity. This was the same guy who had been with my wife weeks ago, and he was still wondering what had gone wrong. I wanted to tell him, “probably you didn’t fuck well that night, bro,” but instead, I said something different.
“She doesn’t hate you, man. She’s just keeping her distance. The more you try, the harder she gets. That’s all.”
“Yeah, that’s a good point,” Desai agreed, “But I’m just trying to talk!” His tone suggested that he still didn’t fully grasp the situation.
 
As I entered our room, Meera was changing, and I immediately wrapped my arms around her, feeling the softness of her belly. “Shall I help you get naked, my lady?”
“Krish, stay away. I’m tired,” she replied, her voice firm yet laced with an underlying softness.
For a moment, disappointment washed over me. After all the build-up from the evening, I had hoped we would have a wild night together. The realization that she was too tired was a let-down, but I held my tongue.
 
We both took our time changing, and even though I had no hope of convincing her, I couldn’t shake the need for intimacy. I needed a good fuck, and I was unsure of whether I should try to make it happen.
Meera changed to a cotton top and pajama before coming to settle on the bed. Her make-up was gone, except for some traces of it around her eyes. Her lips too, carried some redness of the lipstick she had worn in the evening.
As we lay in bed, the silence between us grew heavy. I turned toward Meera, breaking it. "You were pretty harsh tonight. Don’t you think?”
She hesitated, her fingers tracing invisible patterns on the sheet. “I know,” she admitted softly. “But I was scared. I didn’t trust myself... I felt like if I interacted with him, I’d start flirting without even meaning to.”
I looked at her curiously. “Are you feeling warm because of his presence?” I asked, trying to lighten the moment, though my words held a deeper weight. “You don’t hate him as much as you pretend, do you?”
She sighed, her face turning serious. “I don’t hate him, Krish. I’ve just been acting like I do because it’s easier than admitting how confused I feel.”
“Confused?” I pressed.
Her eyes flicked away, a familiar tension settling over her. “I don’t want him thinking there’s anything between us. But… when I see him, everything that happened at the concert night comes rushing back. I can’t help it. Those memories… they’re still with me, and it scares me.”
 
I could see the struggle in her face – how she was fighting herself, trying not to give in to those old feelings. I wasn’t entirely surprised. I had noticed her restraint all evening, the way she stiffened every time Desai came near, the way her eyes flickered with something unresolved when he glanced at her. “What if... you didn’t have to pretend anymore?”
She stared at me, unsure of what I was suggesting. “What are you saying?”
I could literally hear someone inside me screaming inside my head, ‘what are you saying, Krish?’ but I took a breath and ignored the screaming. And then I spoke.
“I’m saying… maybe you need to confront it, head-on. Do you want to talk to him? I can help. Let’s not let it eat at you like this.”
Her face flushed, and I could tell she was battling her inner desires. “You’re crazy. If I go to him now, it won’t be about talking. You know that. It won’t be a conversation we have.”
“So what?” I replied, more confident than I felt. “It’s not the first time you’ve felt his touch. What’s different now?”
Meera’s breath hitched, and I saw a flicker of excitement in her eyes, but she quickly shook her head, as if trying to push it away. “Krish, stop. Are you really serious? What are you even saying?”
I moved closer, my voice low but firm. “I’m serious. I’m okay with it. I saw how you’ve been struggling all night, and maybe it’s time to just let it happen. I want you to be honest about what you’re feeling. If you’re curious, I won’t stop you.”
She hesitated, biting her lip, clearly torn. “But Krish… if I go now, you know what will happen. It won’t be a quick chat. I’ll probably end up staying until it’s over.”
I met her gaze, my heart racing but my resolve steady. “I know. And I’m okay with that.”
Meera’s eyes widened, still fighting the pull of her excitement. “Are you sure?”
“Yes,” I said, my voice unwavering. “But don’t let him know I’m in on this. Just tell him I’ve fallen asleep and that you came to talk because he wanted to all evening.”
 
For a moment, she didn’t move, wrestling with her own thoughts. Her breathing grew heavier, and I could sense the internal conflict – the thrill, the fear, the desire she was suppressing. Finally, she nodded, “Okay,” she whispered.
 
As she got out of bed and adjusted her cotton top and pajama, I noticed the way her hands trembled slightly, betraying her anticipation. The room suddenly felt charged, thick with tension. I knew she was excited at the thought, even if she wouldn’t admit it. And as she quietly left the room, I realized that I was just as eager, waiting for what would happen next, knowing well that she might not come back soon.
As I sat back on my bed, I felt a mix of excitement and dread settle in my stomach. Would this be a turning point for both of us, or would it lead to something more complicated? Only time would tell, and for now, all I could do was wait. And I couldn't sit tight as my heart started pounding harder.
 
As the seconds dragged the time on, the suspense of what might happen next was killing me. Desai's room was still sound-proof, unlike other two rooms in the house. Then I remembered the voice recorder I had placed in Desai's room weeks ago. I had set it up for moments like this, but now when the time came, I felt conflicted. Should I wait until morning to retrieve the device and listen to what happened in the night? Or should I risk syncing it live with my laptop and listen to the proceedings in real-time, knowing that if it failed, I might lose the recording entirely?
 
The anxiety froze me. The device had a history of failure with switching between live mode and recording mode. The recording mode was reliable but the live mode was prone to failure. And it was hard to revert back to recording mode without physical intervention. That means if the live syncing didn’t work, I would have no way of starting the recording. I would have then no way of knowing what was happening in that room right now. Meera had been hesitant, conflicted, and yet I knew there was something simmering between her and Desai that neither could ignore for much longer. This was the night they would talk their heart out, and I couldn't risk not knowing what they talk.
 
Finally, the need to know overcame my hesitation. I opened my laptop, fingers trembling slightly as I initiated the sync. The seconds dragged on, each one feeling like a small eternity. I silently prayed for it to work, to connect, and my breath stopped as the syncing application on the laptop screen froze. 
 

=====xxxxx=====