29-12-2024, 12:43 AM
PART F
In Aniket's room, the air was electric with tension and desire. Esha's heart hammered against her chest as she tried to step away, her voice a blend of determination and panic. "Aniket, let me go. This isn't right. I can't betray Kunal, my marriage."
Aniket's eyes were a storm of emotions, but he stepped back, his gaze locked on her. "I know, Esha. I respect your marriage. But tonight... Priya wasn't thinking straight. This is on us."
Esha nodded, understanding the truth in his words. "She was drunk. She didn't mean it."
The room seemed to shrink, every breath charged. Aniket saw a chance not just to claim her but to perhaps mend the distance between them. "Before you leave, name five things you admire about me, and I'll let you go."
Esha tried to lighten the mood, to reclaim control. "Well, there's the age difference. A 42-year-old man lusting after a 32-year-old woman... that's one."
Aniket chuckled, his tone warm yet serious. "Forget the age. Five real things, Esha."
Taking a deep breath, Esha's eyes met his, feeling the pull. "One, your intelligence. The way you handle complexity is captivating."
As she spoke, Aniket edged closer, until he was just within reach of the door.
"Two, your dedication to your work. I truly admire that."
"Three, your charm," she admitted, her voice softer, the room closing in.
"Four, your respect for others, even when it's hard."
"And five," she whispered, her breath hitching, "your eyes... they see me in ways I sometimes can't see myself."
As she finished, Aniket gently pushed her against the door, closing it with a soft click, sealing them off from the world. "Now, it's my turn," he said, his voice low, dripping with seduction.
He moved closer, his hands framing her face, thumbs brushing her cheeks. "Your lips," he murmured, his breath hot against her skin, "they're so fucking inviting, meant to be kissed, tasted."
Esha's heart raced, her resistance dissolving with his words.
"Your eyes," he continued, his gaze intense, "they tell stories of passion, of a life I've wanted to be part of since I first kissed you."
Before she could protest, Aniket lifted her, carrying her to his bedroom. In the dim light, clothes were shed, revealing their nakedness to each other's hungry eyes. His hands roamed her body, tracing every curve with a worshipful touch.
He laid her on the bed, his body following, the connection sparking instantly. Aniket's hands explored, igniting desire along her skin. His lips met hers in a kiss that promised more, deep and claiming.
Positioning himself, his hard cock teased her entrance. "You're more beautiful than I imagined," he whispered, voice thick with want.
Slowly, he entered her, the sensation overwhelming. Esha gasped, her body arching to take him in, a moan escaping as he filled her. "Aniket...," she breathed, her voice laden with pleasure and surrender.
Their rhythm was deliberate, each thrust a declaration of longing. Aniket's voice was a low, primal growl in her ear, praising her tightness, how she welcomed him, her responsiveness to his touch. "Your body... a fucking masterpiece," he murmured, pace quickening with need.
Esha's nails dug into his back, her moans growing louder, filling the room with the sounds of their union. She felt every inch of him, the way he moved inside her, igniting denied desires.
The room echoed with their lovemaking—the wet sounds of their bodies, whispered adoration, gasps of pleasure. Aniket praised her breasts, their movement with each thrust, her nipples hardening under his touch. He whispered about her skin's taste, her hair's feel, each word intensifying the moment.
As climax approached, their movements were urgent, raw. Esha was lost in sensation, her body in sync with his, her moans turning to cries as waves of orgasm crashed over her. Aniket followed, his release a deep groan, his body shuddering, their climax leaving them breathless.
After, they lay together, skin on skin, breathing slowing. Aniket's touch was gentle now, kisses soft on her forehead. Esha was overwhelmed by the intimacy, the betrayal of her vows, yet the undeniable connection they'd shared, leaving them to navigate their desires.
"What have I done?" The question echoed in Esha's mind, a relentless scream as the heat of her passion cooled, leaving nothing but a cold realization in its wake. She felt like she was waking from a dream, or perhaps a nightmare, her body still tingling from Aniket's touch, yet her heart sinking into despair. She ran from his room, the door slamming shut behind her like a judgment on her actions.
Back in her own room, she checked her phone, only to find several missed calls from Kunal. The sight of his name on the screen was like a stab of guilt through her heart. She had been so caught up in the whirlwind of Priya's teasing, Aniket's charm, and her own bodily desires that she hadn't even remembered to switch her phone from silent mode after the conference. The realization made her feel even more disconnected from her life, from her responsibilities.
She rushed to the bathroom, desperate to wash away the remnants of her betrayal, the scent of Aniket that clung to her skin like a confession. But as the water flowed, it seemed powerless against the stains of her conscience, the memories of their intimacy that would not be washed away.
That night, Esha sat outside her bathroom, her body curled into a fetal, tears streaming down her face. The guilt was overwhelming, her sobs quiet but fierce, a proof to the battle within her. She wrestled with her desires and her duties, the love for her family and the thrill of what she had just experienced with Aniket.
Morning came with the first light of the sun peeking through her hotel room window, offering a sliver of comfort. Exhausted from her emotional turmoil, Esha finally fell asleep, but it was a restless, sick sleep, her dreams haunted by the faces of those she loved.
She was jolted awake by a violent thud on her door. She tried to ignore it, hoping it would be a dream, but as the knocking grew louder, desperation in each thump, she composed herself. With a heavy heart, she opened the door to find Priya, her face etched with concern, and Aniket, who quickly moved out of sight once he saw Esha was safe.
Priya didn't wait for an invitation; she entered, her presence commanding. Before Esha could voice her turmoil, Priya spoke with an authority that left no room for argument. "Get ready for the conference, Esha. We've got day two to get through."
"I need to be alone," Esha muttered, her voice weak, her eyes swollen from crying.
But Priya was relentless, her tone sharp yet laced with concern. "No, you don't. You'll spiral into self-loathing if I leave you alone. Now, get ready."
Esha, feeling the weight of her friend's command, complied out of exhaustion rather than agreement. She moved like a ghost, her actions mechanical. She didn't care for her appearance, her reflection a stark reminder of her inner chaos. Priya, seeing this, quickly applied makeup to mask the evidence of Esha's tears, the swollen eyes a silent approval to her night of regret.
Throughout the first session of the conference, Priya held Esha's hand, offering silent support, her touch a lifeline in Esha's sea of guilt. The rest of the day was filled with formal meetings where Esha's presence was required more for formality than contribution, her mind elsewhere, her heart heavy.
Sensing Esha needed space away from the conference's pretense, Priya led her away from the venue. In a quieter part of the hotel, Priya's words took on a more confrontational tone. "This is why I never want to get married, Esha. What you and Aniket shared was just sex, a bodily need like food or water."
Esha looked away, her shame palpable, but Priya continued, her voice rising in frustration. "This patriarchal world, these human-made customs, they want us to follow rules that only bind women. If Kunal had done this, would he be tearing himself apart? I know men who juggle multiple affairs without a second thought!"
Priya's words were like a balm and a blade. "I've seen the desire in your eyes for Aniket, Esha. That's why I pushed you towards him. Because sometimes, we need to explore our desires to understand ourselves, not because I advocate for infidelity, but because we're human."
Her strong words didn't erase Esha's turmoil or make everything hunky-dory, but they gave her the strength to stand, to move on her own without clinging to Priya for support. They were a reminder of the complexity of human emotions, of the gray areas in life where right and wrong blur.
Once back at the conference venue, Priya sought out Aniket, her voice low but firm. "Give her space, Aniket. Don't approach her for a few days. Esha will come back to you soon."
Aniket nodded, his face a mask of concern and regret, his own heart heavy with the implications of their night together. He watched Esha from a distance, seeing her composed exterior but knowing the storm within.
Esha, for her part, felt like she was walking through the day under a heavy cloud. Each step was an effort, each smile forced, but Priya's words echoed in her mind, giving her a sliver of perspective on her actions. She wasn't absolved, not by a long shot, but she started to see herself not just as a betrayer but as a woman caught in the complexities of her own heart.
The conference ended, and Esha returned to her room, the weight of her actions still pressing down on her, yet the day with Priya had offered a small measure of healing. She knew she had to face Kunal, to face herself, but for now, she allowed herself a moment of quiet, of grief, and of the smallest hint of forgiveness towards her own human frailties. The path forward was uncertain, but she knew she couldn't continue to punish herself without at least trying to understand why she had strayed, and what it meant for her life, her marriage, and her soul.
Back in Mumbai, Esha's life felt like a déjà vu, the pain from months ago after Aniket's kiss now compounded by the weight of what had transpired in Delhi. But was this betrayal as devastating as she feared? This question circled her mind like a vulture over the desert.
The initial days were a struggle, the guilt of not fulfilling her promise to bring Aditya a gift from Delhi haunting her. The thought of her son's disappointed face was a sharp contrast to the dark desires that had led her astray. She found it nearly impossible to meet Kunal's eyes, the memory of being in another's embrace, not her husband's, a constant reminder of her infidelity.
However, Priya's reaction was like an unexpected beacon in Esha's storm. She treated the affair with a nonchalance that was both baffling and grounding to Esha. For Priya, what had occurred in the hotel room was merely a physical act, not a stain on Esha's soul. This perspective was what prevented Esha from drowning in her own guilt, offering her a perspective where her actions were not the end of her world but a moment of human frailty.
In the office, Esha's silence was palpable, but her behavior towards Aniket had changed. She was no longer pushing him away in meetings. Though they didn't speak directly, her eyes would linger on him when he was unaware, catching those moments where she remembered the intimacy they shared. She handled his portfolio with a care that bordered on personal, her nods to his suggestions a silent acknowledgment of their connection.
When Aniket had first kissed her, he was a stranger, one whose feelings she didn't reciprocate. Now, she was acutely aware of his affection for her. She saw him with new eyes - not just as a colleague but as a man who found her desirable, whose charm and looks were intertwined with the sensations of their night together. His eyes, so vivid in her memory, held a promise of pleasure, each memory of their intimacy a wave that still lingered back of her mind.
A few weeks later, at the office cafeteria, Esha and Priya sat down for lunch. "How are Kunal and Aditya?" Priya asked, her voice casual, probing.
"They've gone to Pune for the day, to visit Kunal's parents," Esha replied, her loneliness evident in her tone.
Priya whistled, her suggestion clear, "So, you're free to explore Mumbai with 'him'. Might help with the loneliness."
Esha's response was sharp, her accusation laced with frustration. "Priya, you're misguiding me, jeopardizing my marriage. I expect better from you, from a friend of over a decade."
Priya, with her own deeply held views on life, looked at Esha intently, her words coming out as she chewed, her story unfolding in pauses for emphasis. "Jeopardize? Let me... tell you... what jeopardy really means. My mother... she couldn't marry the man she loved... because society back then... wouldn't allow it."
Esha listened, her heart heavy with the weight of what was coming.
Priya continued, her voice hardening with memory, "My sister and I... we were born into a home where... my father, drunk and bitter... spent nights with prostitutes... he brought women home... showed no respect for his wife or daughters."
Esha's eyes widened, the story revealing a part of Priya she had never known.
"But no one called him out... because he was a 'man'," Priya said, her words sharp, cutting through the air between them. "My mother... she was blamed... for not giving birth to a boy, as if... women controls the chromosomes, while the truth is otherwise."
Esha felt a chill, the horror of Priya's reality sinking in, the injustices highlighted by the mere fact of gender.
"And then... because she once spoke to her old love... shared her grief," Priya paused, her voice dropping to a whisper, "she was found dead... burnt... a few days later."
The silence that followed was profound, filled with the weight of Priya's revelation. Esha was stunned, listening to the tragedy Priya had endured. The word 'jeopardy' took on a new, haunting meaning. It wasn't just about personal acts of betrayal but about the systemic, societal jeopardy women faced, the rules that society makes keeping male chauvinism in mind.
Taking a deep breath, Priya, aiming to lighten the mood yet leaving the gravity of her story hanging in the air, picked up her phone, winked at Esha, and dialed a number. "Hi, one of my friends is feeling very lonely. Her husband and son are out of town. Would you mind giving her some company today after work?"
Esha understood immediately who Priya was calling, and she tried to interject, to stop this from escalating further. But Priya was already standing, signaling the end of their lunch break. "Go enjoy life, Esha," she said with a playful tone, "Life's too short for regrets."
Esha left in contemplation, the weight of Priya's story juxtaposed with her own actions, making her question the very fabric of her life, her choices, and the societal norms she has been imposed with. It was a moment of profound introspection, where the essence of 'jeopardy' was not just about her guilt but about understanding the complexity of desire, loyalty, and the human condition, especially through the lens of what women endure silently.
Back in her cabin, Esha couldn't focus on work. The story Priya told about her mother's tragic end stirred deep emotions, making Esha reflect on her own choices. Though not a feminist by label, Esha believed in gender equality and shared responsibility. She held marriage vows sacred, yet Priya's tale made her question her path. Would following her heart with Aniket lead to judgment? Would she be blamed if Kunal learned of her infidelity, leading to their marriage's downfall?
Her eyes moved from Kunal and Aditya's photo, her anchors, to the magazine Aniket had sent as an apology. Picking it up, the scent was unmistakable, the same one that had enveloped her in Delhi, marking her body and psyche, a reminder of forbidden pleasures.
Esha felt pulled in three ways: her family, Aniket, and society's looming judgment. Each tugged at her heart, her mind a battlefield of guilt, desire, and fear.
As she prepared to leave, Aniket's voice stopped her. Dressed in a white kurti and baggy salwar, her hair loosely tied, her face tense, her heart beat heavily. She had hoped he'd ignore Priya's suggestion, but here he was.
"Come with me," he said, his voice a blend of command and invitation, leading her to his car. Esha followed, her movements automatic.
"Where are we going?" she whispered over the car's engine.
"To my apartment. I make the world's best coffee," Aniket replied, his tone teasing yet sincere.
In his living room, the air was charged with anticipation. Esha sat on the sofa, her kurti pushed up, her bra undone, one breast exposed to Aniket's eager mouth, his tongue tracing patterns that made her shiver. Kneeling between her legs, his fingers explored her, each touch revealing her desire.
Esha was adrift in sensation, eyes closed, whispering his name, her body hungry for more. The room filled with their breaths, the wet sounds of their connection, her moans a song of surrender.
Aniket moved her to the carpet, entering her with deliberate thrusts, each one eliciting a gasp, her body eagerly meeting his, despite her inner turmoil. He directed her gaze to the mirror, showing them entwined.
"Look," he whispered, voice thick with lust, "Only a man my age can truly appreciate a woman your age," teasing her earlier remark. Esha blushed, the mirror showing not just their act but their undeniable connection.
In the reflection, she saw herself wrapped around him, legs entwined, toes curling with each deep thrust. This image contrasted sharply with her thoughts of duty, amplifying the moment's passion. Her moans grew louder, mingling with the rhythmic sounds of their bodies, filling the room with their symphony of desire.
Aniket's hands worshipped her body, his touch a stark contrast to their primal act. Esha's nails dug into his back, pulling him closer, her voice a mix of pleasure and pleas. "Aniket," she breathed, each word a confession of her longing, her surrender.
Their pace intensified, the room echoing with their lovemaking, the gasps, moans, and whispered affirmations of how good, how right this felt. The climax was intense, Esha's cries blending with Aniket's groans, their bodies shuddering together, the mirror reflecting their shared ecstasy.
After, lying on the carpet, their breathing calmed. Esha's mind cleared, the reality of her actions sinking in. The mirror now just observed, reflecting her taking yet another step beyond the line she'd already crossed. Aniket, sensing her change, held her gently, whispering, "Esha, this doesn't have to be the end," his voice full of hope.
But for Esha, the weight of her choices was heavy. The thrill of Aniket was overshadowed by guilt. The sounds of their passion echoed, a juxtaposition of liberation and fear, as she faced her desires, society's judgment, and the consequences.
As time passed, Esha and Aniket's relationship deepened, moving from a professional facade laced with forbidden attraction to something profound and personal. They shared laughter, understanding, and conversations that felt like coming home.
In Aniket, Esha discovered not just a lover but a confidant who saw past her roles as wife and mother. This hidden relationship offered her a taste of freedom, a chance to live for herself in moments stolen from the world.
With Aniket, Esha felt truly acknowledged, a feeling she hadn't known she craved. Their bond was a secret garden where she could grow freely, untethered by societal expectations. Each encounter added layers to their connection, rich with shared secrets and empathetic glances.
What once required persuasion for Esha to join Aniket in private now flowed naturally. The initial hesitations and planning had faded, their meetings becoming a familiar dance, each touch a note in their intimate symphony.
Their professional interactions at the bank doubled as a cover for their clandestine meetings. Now, there was no need for excuses; work provided the perfect alibi. Business lunches and client reviews were their moments to indulge in each other.
Esha had become adept at arranging these secret escapes, her calendar a tapestry of deceit where each meeting with Aniket was a thread of passion. Discussions about markets or strategies were charged with unspoken desires, electrifying their professional encounters.
In her solitude, Esha pondered the future of this affair, hoping Aniket might eventually move on. Once, teasing him over coffee, she suggested, "You know, Aniket, time waits for no one. Maybe it's time to think about settling down?"
Aniket's eyes softened, a hint of sorrow visible. He took her hand, his touch warm, "Esha, I've considered it. After losing my first love in an accident, no one has filled that void."
He paused, looking deep into her eyes, "When I first heard your voice, it was like hearing her again. That same depth, the same seductive tone." His voice carried nostalgia, "Your beauty, the care you took with my portfolio... it all felt familiar."
"Your beauty," he continued, brushing a strand of hair from her face, "it reminded me of the light she brought into my life. The way you handle my portfolio," he admired, "it's like a melody I thought was lost. You've rekindled parts of me I thought were gone."
Their lunches became more than escapes; they were moments of true connection. Aniket would say, "Your laughter is like sunlight breaking through clouds. I didn't realize how much I needed that light."
Esha, feeling the excitement of their secret, would respond, "With you, I can just be me."
In these confessions, their bond transcended the physical, touching on a romantic depth. Esha cherished these moments, these words that painted their affair with love and meaning.
Their meetings were filled with these intimate exchanges. "You make me feel truly alive," Aniket would say, his eyes locked with hers, a promise of more.
Esha, in turn, would admit, "With you, I feel whole, not just pieces of a life."
These sentiments, shared in quiet corners or whispers in his apartment, wove their affair into something beautiful, even if fleeting.
Lying beside Kunal, watching his peaceful sleeping face, a shiver ran down Esha's spine. That evening, she had experienced an incredible intimacy with Aniket in his apartment, moments that now felt like both a thrill and a betrayal.
She turned her gaze back to her husband. What was it that she missed in her marital life that led her to share her body and soul with another man, even more than she did with Kunal now?
Was Kunal less good-looking? Certainly not. Both coming from Sindhi families who had settled in different parts of Maharashtra during the partition, they inherited good looks from generations past. Yes, after seven years of marriage, Kunal had put on some weight and become a bit of a couch potato, but wasn't that a common fate for many married men and women? After years of marriage, with life revolving around children and responsibilities, most couples let go of the focus on appearance and physique.
In contrast, Aniket, just a few inches taller than Kunal, carried the robust Punjabi genes but took meticulous care of his looks and body. Esha knew about the small gym in his apartment. Sometimes, when he was in the mood, he'd invite her to join him for a session with dumbbells. Esha, while not particularly fond of exercise herself, was fortunate not to have the tendency to gain weight easily, unlike many from her community.
However, holding Aniket in her arms, feeling his biceps and broad chest sculpted by regular training, was undeniably thrilling. But was physical attraction the sole reason for her actions? She didn't think so.
Was Aniket a better lover then? Esha was not sure. Both men took care of her comfort, each in their own way.
Kunal's devotion was the kind that Esha had always cherished, a comfort in the chaos of life. He was the embodiment of a caring husband, shouldering the financial burdens so she could feel secure, always attentive to her needs, even in the intimacy of their bedroom. His tenderness during their first night together had set a tone of respect and love, his concern for her comfort never waning. Even now, his eyes would soften with worry if she showed the slightest sign of discomfort during their mating. But the routine of life, the weight of responsibilities, had slowly altered their physical closeness. Their love was no less, but the passion seemed to have settled into a quieter, less frequent rhythm.
Esha had accepted this shift as a natural progression of marriage, especially after their son entered their lives. The focus had shifted so dramatically towards nurturing their family, providing for their future, that the wild, passionate explorations of their early days seemed like a distant memory. When Kunal sought intimacy, there were times Esha's mind was elsewhere, caught in the web of daily stresses or the exhaustion from corporate battles. And when she craved closeness, Kunal might be too tired, his mind on work deadlines or the next big project. Their bodies, once so in sync, now danced to the beat of life's demands, creating moments of missed connections. Esha before meeting Aniket, thought this is a norm and story of every household.
But was what Esha thought as a norm truly the case? Aniket was also caring, ensuring Esha's comfort. Yet, he had a way of pushing her limits.
If Esha shrieked at his entry, Aniket would take his time, arousing her until she was ready for his intensity. His actions were like a worship of her body.
He'd pinch her nipples, lick and suck on them, then move to her vagina, lapping at her clit. His deep thrusts allowed her to moan freely, exploring new positions together.
She remembered one particularly challenging pose where Aniket wanted to make love to her while holding her up in the air. Her heart had leaped into her throat at the thought of falling, the fear mingling with excitement. "Aniket, no, I'll fall, I'm not that athletic!" she protested, her voice a mix of fear and anticipation.
Aniket's eyes sparkled with mischief and desire. "Trust me, Esha. I've got you," he whispered, his voice low and reassuring. His hands found her waist, lifting her effortlessly. She wrapped her legs around him, feeling exposed yet thrilled. "See, you're safe with me," he murmured, his breath hot against her neck.
He guided her down onto him, the sensation of being suspended, supported only by his strength, sending waves of pleasure through her. "Oh, Aniket," she gasped, her voice turning into a moan as he began to move, each thrust a reflecting his control and her surrender. With every careful, deep movement, fear transformed into thrill, her body adjusting to the rhythm, her trust in him making the pose both daring and delightful.
With Aniket, having two sessions in a day was not just possible but a reality, something Esha hadn't even considered practical had Aniket wouldn't have entered her life.
One day, after persistent requests from Aniket, Priya concocted a plan . She picked up her phone and dialed Kunal, "Hey Kunal, I was thinking, how about Esha comes over tonight? We could have some girl talk."
Kunal, unsuspecting, replied, "Sure, Priya. She might enjoy that. Let me know if you need anything."
But instead, Esha found herself at Aniket's apartment, the night stretching into a marathon of passion.
They had four sessions until morning, each one blurring into the next, Esha losing count of her orgasms in the haze of pleasure.
Aniket had taken her in almost every part of his apartment, making her explore new sides of her sexuality, her desires, her own body in ways she had never imagined. This wasn't just about the physical act but about discovering the breadth of her own pleasure, the depths of her own sensuality.
Esha was living a double life, juggling her domestic routine with an electrifying secret one.
Aniket's apartment was her refuge, a place for stolen moments. His once ample wardrobe was now half hers, signifying her playful takeover, filled with tokens of their affair. This space had become her private refuge, adorned with Aniket's gifts—sarees that clung to her like a lover's touch, lingerie so sheer it whispered promises, and jewelry that sparkled with their shared secrets. Each item was a memento of their covert romance.
She'd often stand before the bedroom mirror, slipping into a new saree or watching how a necklace danced against her skin. The room was scented with her perfume, intermingling with the remnants of their passion, making it feel more hers than his. Every piece told a story, every trinket a memory of their encounters, turning this place into a treasure chest of intimacy.
Esha recalled her initial refusal of Aniket's lavish gifts, especially the first pendant he offered when they lay bare on his bed, the air still thick with the scent of love. Aniket's fingers traced her neck as he placed it on her, murmuring, "This beauty's for my beautiful girl." The luxury overwhelmed her, her self-respect cautious against seeming materialistic.
Aniket, seeing her hesitation, smiled, "You deserve to be adorned like this. It's even more beautiful on you." But when she resisted, he enlisted Priya's help.
Priya challenged Esha, "He spent days on this. It's a special order, a tribute to your allure. Don't let pride rob you of this." Convinced by the sentiment, Esha accepted, feeling the pendant's coolness against her skin, a physical manifestation of Aniket's devotion. This set the precedent for keeping gifts at his place for their private escapades, enhancing the allure of each encounter.
Then came the payal. Esha, curious, asked about his choice. Aniket smirked, "I love the sound it makes when your legs are wrapped around me."
"Aniket, your mind!" Esha laughed, her cheeks flushing as she admired it, then moved closer to him on the bed. "And what does that sound do to you?"
"It drives me wild," Aniket confessed, his voice dropping, "Makes me want to keep you here, making love to you into oblivion."
With a playful, seductive tone, Esha teased, "So, this is for our... intimate sessions?"
"Exactly," he affirmed, mischief in his eyes, "I need to hear that sweet jingle with every move you make."
Esha laughed, snuggling into him, slipping the payal onto her ankle, "Then let's see if it can keep up with us."
His response was a growl full of desire, "Oh, it will, and so will I."
Every relationship has its challenges, and Esha and Aniket were no exception. There were numerous occasions when Aniket longed for Esha by his side, only to be met with her refusals. Esha could only carve out time on weekdays, using work as an excuse to meet him. Weekends were a firm "no" since she dedicated them entirely to her son and husband. On a few rare weekends, she managed to sneak away by deceiving Kunal and Aditya, but frequent excuses risked inviting suspicion. Aniket's desire to spend more time with Esha grew with each passing day; he would emotionally blackmail her, coax her, but often, relenting was out of the question for Esha. Over their year-long affair, Esha had only spent one entire night at his apartment after Aniket's persistent pleading. That night, though Priya had helped, the fear of getting caught hung over Esha, leading her to declare it would be the last time, despite the intense pleasure they shared.
Aniket, despite having a woman in his life, often found himself alone when he wished Esha was beside him. The situation escalated when Esha faced several challenges: Aditya fell ill, then her father-in-law suffered a heart attack, necessitating her presence in Pune, working from home. Esha managed to connect with Aniket via Zoom under the guise of client meetings or through phone calls when she was alone. However, the lack of physical interaction was driving both to desperation, especially
Aniket, who had become accustomed to their physical intimacy and found himself unable to desire anyone else.
As soon as Esha entered Aniket's apartment, he was there, bracing her from behind as the door closed. "I've missed you so much," he murmured, his voice a blend of complaint and longing, "It's been a month since you were here."
Esha, feeling his warmth against her back, teased, "Awww, having an affair with a married woman is challenging, you know. I have responsibilities, Aniket. Maybe you should find a girl and get married."
Aniket pulled her closer, his breath hot against her ear, "I can't think about another woman when I have you."
Turning her head, Esha caressed his cheek, still held in his embrace. "My baby," she said, referring to him playfully, "is getting possessive."
Without another word, Aniket led her to the bedroom, his urgency palpable. Once there, with her eyes closed, the sensation of Aniket's hard length sliding in and out of her, each thrust filling her with a mix of pleasure and longing, Esha's mind wandered to how she would navigate this challenging situation. The possessiveness in Aniket's eyes was clear, a silent demand for more than she could publicly give. The deep, rhythmic penetration was both a reminder of their undeniable chemistry and the complexity of her life, her heart torn between the thrill of their affair and the love for her family.
The relationship between Esha and Aniket was growing more complicated with time. She felt she couldn't live without him, yet the prospect of no future for their relationship gnawed at her.
While doing the dishes or cooking for her family, Esha would often lose herself in thought, the repetitive motions of her chores not enough to keep her mind from wandering to Aniket.
She found herself getting irritated over small things, snapping at Kunal or Aditya over trivial matters, only to later regret her behavior, understanding she shouldn't let her inner turmoil affect her family.
After lunch, Esha and Priya strolled around the office building, Esha's face serious, while Priya observed her with an empathetic gaze.
"You put me in this situation, Priya," Esha accused, her voice a mix of blame and confusion.
Priya sighed, "I thought it would be just physical, Esha. I didn't expect it to go this far."
Esha shook her head, "This was exactly what I feared when you were pushing me towards Aniket."
"I still believe you have every right to explore your sexuality," Priya countered, her tone firm yet understanding.
"But you need to talk to Aniket," Priya continued. "I think he's falling for you."
Esha's eyes widened, "Falling for me? No, no... neither of us should fall in love."
Priya looked at her intently, "But what if he already loves you?"
"Society doesn't recognize this kind of love, Priya. It's doomed from the start," Esha said, her voice heavy with sorrow.
"Then tell him, Esha. Tell him you can't go beyond this," Priya suggested, her voice gentle but insistent.
Esha's eyes became wet with unshed tears, "I wish I could tell him that."
Priya, with a knowing look, taunted softly, "You love him too, don't you?"
Esha avoided her gaze, "I... I don't know what I feel."
Priya's eyes softened, "I can see it in your eyes, Esha."
Esha looked away, her silence speaking volumes.
"Let me see what I can do," Priya offered, her tone one of resolve, ready to navigate the complex emotions of her friend.
After an intense discussion with Esha, Priya felt a profound empathy for her friend's predicament.
She spent the night reflecting on how she could assist Esha through this tangled situation. Priya remembered how she had initially felt a twinge of jealousy when Esha was assigned to Aniket, the bank's most charming client. His arrival had sparked something in her - a crush that quickly turned into professional respect as she watched Esha and Aniket's dynamic evolve.
Their professional bond had always been intriguing, but it was the incident of the kiss that shifted everything into a more personal realm.
Aniket, feeling guilty about a harsh reaction to a professional setback, had sought Priya's advice on how to apologize to Esha. He came to her, asking for insights into Esha's interests, claiming it was merely an attempt to make amends. Priya, knowing Esha's family well, had cautioned him about the sanctity of Esha's marriage.
Yet, when Esha confided in Priya about the kiss, it altered her perspective. The way their eyes met, there was an undeniable attraction, a chemistry that Priya believed was only held back by Esha's commitment to her vows.
This realization fueled Priya's feminist beliefs, pushing her to advocate for Esha's right to explore her emotions, even if it meant navigating beyond the confines of marriage. She had hoped, like many flings, this would be brief, but the depth of their connection had now complicated matters beyond her initial expectations.
Priya had become a confidante not just to Esha but to Aniket as well. He would call her, sometimes in the loneliness of the night, drunk with desire and longing for Esha, sharing his feelings with an intensity that was both touching and troubling. Aniket had once asked Priya to intervene, to somehow make Esha dedicate more of herself to him, but Priya knew she couldn't manipulate Esha's choices.
Determined to help Esha find clarity, Priya decided she needed a deeper understanding of Esha's emotions before she could offer any advice. She proposed a casual meeting at a nearby mall over the weekend, under the pretense of shopping, hoping to delve into Esha's turmoil in a relaxed setting.
The following day, she reached out to Aniket, her voice both serious and supportive over the phone.
"Aniket, if you want my help to see what the future holds for your relationship with Esha, you'll need to play along," Priya said.
They talked through a few more points, the specifics of their plan taking shape.
As their conversation neared its end, Priya gave him a direction, "Come to the mall at 6 PM. Esha will be there too."
It was easy for Esha to excuse herself from her family for a few hours on Saturday, claiming she was going window shopping with Priya. She arrived on time, watching Priya flit from one shop to another, her enthusiasm infectious yet a stark contrast to Esha's inner turmoil. After their shopping adventure, they settled in a secluded corner of the mall's top-floor food court.
Priya's voice was earnest as she leaned closer, "Esha, if you want my help, you need to be completely honest with me."
Esha, not knowing where this was going, agreed, "Okay."
"How often do you and Kunal have sex?" Priya's question was direct, catching Esha off guard.
Esha's defense was immediate, "This isn't why we're here, Priya."
"Trust me, it's relevant. Be honest," Priya insisted.
Esha knew she was lying when she said, "Like any other couple," the image of her passionate moments with Aniket flashing in her mind.
Priya wasn't fooled, "Come on, Esha, the truth."
Esha sighed, "2-3 times a month."
"And before Aniket?" Priya prodded.
Esha dodged directly answering, "After seven years, every couple's libido naturally wanes."
Priya nodded, "I'll take that as 2-3 times a month then." She tried to lighten the mood with a chuckle, "Mrs. Wankhede told me her husband still does it twice a week, even after 18 years."
Priya's tone turned more serious, "That's not a lot, though."
Esha confessed, "With Aditya and both of us working, it's not the priority. But we're content."
"Did you ever try to spice things up?" Priya asked, her curiosity piqued.
Esha was hesitant, "We watched some porn early on, different themes to explore. But life got in the way."
Priya's next question was bold, "Any role-playing or involving someone else?"
Esha blushed, defending the sanctity of her marriage, "No, nothing like that."
Priya nudged her playfully, and Esha recalled, "Once, at my college reunion, I introduced Kunal to a guy who had a crush on me. That night, Kunal mentioned his name, but it was just playful. He felt guilty afterwards, never did it again."
"Was that night's sex different?" Priya teased, her eyes twinkling.
Esha, not catching the full implication, gave a playful nod.
The conversation took a sharp turn when Priya asked about Aniket, "How does the sex compare with Aniket?"
Esha's cheeks turned red, "I don't compare them."
"Is Aniket demanding?" Priya clarified.
Esha whispered, "Very much so."
"Does it make you uncomfortable, or does he push too far?" Priya asked, her voice laced with concern.
Esha's silence was telling, and Priya interpreted it, "I'll take that as a 'No' then."
Priya then dropped the bombshell, "Aniket is coming at 6 today." Esha's face flushed with a mix of excitement and panic; she hadn't been prepared for this.
Esha's expression was one of confusion, "Why didn't you tell me?"
"He misses seeing you on weekends. I thought it'd be nice for him to join us," Priya explained with a grin. Esha's heart raced with the thrill and fear of being so close to home with Aniket. When she saw him waving at them, her excitement was undeniable.
After some casual conversation, Priya spoke to both, "I need to make something clear to Aniket. Esha, you're married; there's no future for you two."
Esha's heart plummeted, a fake nod escaping her, masking her true feelings. The thought of Aniket moving on was like a knife twisting in her gut, a jealousy she wasn't ready to acknowledge.
Turning to Aniket, Priya said, "I saw you with a girl this weekend. She's quite beautiful."
Esha felt a sharp sting of jealousy, her stomach knotting. Aniket's response was simple, "She's just a friend." But Esha's glance at him was a storm of emotions, her eyes searching for any sign that he might be lying or hiding something.
Priya teased, "I wouldn't mind if she was your girlfriend."
A wave of possessiveness washed over Esha, her heart racing. Aniket quickly clarified, "It's not like that."
But Priya persisted, "She seems perfect for you. You should chase her."
The words felt like a punch to Esha's chest. Anger, hurt, and an undeniable jealousy flared within her. She stood abruptly, her face a mask of rage she tried to conceal. She glanced at her watch, "I have to go, I've got so much work." Without waiting for a response, she left, her exit marked by an undercurrent of emotional turmoil. Priya watched with a slight, knowing smile, while Aniket's face tensed with concern.
Sunday dawned, and Esha was adrift in a sea of conflicting emotions, Aniket's voice from the day before still reverberating with explanations she didn't want to hear. If Priya hadn't been there, her rage might have spilled over into something more visceral. Why this storm of jealousy when she had always whispered in their secluded moments that their affair had no future? Yet, the mere thought of Aniket with another woman ignited a possessive fire within her.
The night had been sleepless, haunted by the scent of Aniket's skin, his gaze that devoured her, the husky timbre of his voice in the height of their passion, the expert touch of his hands, and the exquisite afterglow they'd shared in front of his bedroom mirror. No amount of focus on Aditya's beloved breakfast or the tranquil tea with Kunal on the balcony could shake Aniket from her thoughts.
The afternoon brought a call from Priya, slicing through the silence. "Why the hell did you react like that, Esha?"
With Kunal and Aditya out at the park, Esha was free to vent. "You and Aniket, conspiring to tell me how pretty that girl is?"
Priya's laughter was edged with mockery. "What do you want, Esha? That a man should always be at your beck and call? And when he needs someone beside him, he should wait for a slot in your schedule, leaving him all alone and horny?"
Then came the bombshell, "You should give divorce to Kunal." The words hit Esha like a bullet. "I'd rather die than think about divorcing him," she shot back, her voice laced with pain and defiance.
"You're going to drive me insane, Esha," Priya sighed, exasperated by the emotional chaos.
"But listen, it was just a prank, a way to brace you for real surprises down the line," Priya confessed.
"Shit," was Esha's only reply, a cocktail of relief and embarrassment swirling within her.
The following day, Esha stood at Aniket's door, her knock a demand. "You rascal, you're meeting another woman behind my back?" Her playful punch carried the weight of her jealousy.
"How dare you not ask for my permission before meeting that bit...?" she struck again, her words sharp avoiding the complete word.
Aniket, amused, dodged her blows, only to be pushed down onto the couch. Esha straddled him, her voice dripping with a possessive coo, "You are mine, ohhh," her fingers tightening around his jaw.
With a feverish urgency, Esha ripped Aniket's shirt, buttons scattering like fallen stars. Clothes were discarded in a frenzy, skin on skin, her lips finding his ear, licking and nibbling, her nails raking across his chest, drawing out moans of pleasure.
She guided him inside her, riding him with a rhythm born of jealousy and need, her eyes locked onto his, a silent declaration of ownership. Her pussy clenched around him, milking every sensation as they moved together.
As climax approached, the words burst from her, "I love you, I love you," a chant of passion and possession until they both surrendered to ecstasy, their juices mingling.
After their breathing normalized, Aniket looked at her with a mixture of awe and affection, "Fuck, that was awesome," he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
"Only for you, baby," Esha purred, curling into him, her ear against his chest, listening to the heartbeat that had become her secret symphony.
Esha and Aniket lay entangled on the couch, their bodies pressed close, basking in the afterglow. Esha's skin was a soft, tender canvas, an aphrodisiac that sent Aniket's blood racing with heat, his senses enraptured by the curves of her body molding against his.
"I crave another round, deep and slow," Esha purred, her fingers playfully twirling in Aniket's chest hair.
"Two is the norm for me," Aniket grinned, his tone suggestive, indicating he needed at least two sessions to feel truly sated.
"I love that about you," Esha cooed, her voice dripping with appreciation for his sexual stamina.
With that, Aniket scooped her up, their naked bodies pressed together as he carried her to the bedroom for another session of "Deep and Slow".
As Aniket began to move within her, each thrust met with Esha's gasps, she felt every inch of him, every motion designed to drive her wild.
"So you love me, what about Kunal then?" Aniket's mention of Kunal caused a ripple of unease in Esha. Her body, which had been welcoming, now tensed, resisting his movements.
To shift the conversation, Esha wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer, her giggle playful yet nervous, "I'll keep both my men."
Aniket resumed his rhythm, his thrusts now more insistent. "Why not include him in our love-making?" he suggested, pushing deeper.
"Please, let's just focus on us, you and me," Esha pleaded, not wanting Kunal to infiltrate their intimate moment.
"Or maybe he can just watch us," Aniket teased, his movements now forceful, challenging her boundaries.
"No, don't do this!" Esha protested, but her body belied her words, meeting his thrusts with equal fervor, the bed creaking loudly beneath them.
"Or he could wipe your sweat while I fuck you," Aniket continued, his pace quickening, his words pushing her towards the edge.
"Aniket, please don't do it, I beg you," Esha responded, her voice a mix of desire and desperation, her body now syncing with his aggressive pace.
Their love-making intensified, the room shaking with the force of their passion. As Aniket neared his climax, he poured into her, his love liquid spreading warmth, marking their union amidst the chaos of their desires and fears.
In Aniket's room, the air was electric with tension and desire. Esha's heart hammered against her chest as she tried to step away, her voice a blend of determination and panic. "Aniket, let me go. This isn't right. I can't betray Kunal, my marriage."
Aniket's eyes were a storm of emotions, but he stepped back, his gaze locked on her. "I know, Esha. I respect your marriage. But tonight... Priya wasn't thinking straight. This is on us."
Esha nodded, understanding the truth in his words. "She was drunk. She didn't mean it."
The room seemed to shrink, every breath charged. Aniket saw a chance not just to claim her but to perhaps mend the distance between them. "Before you leave, name five things you admire about me, and I'll let you go."
Esha tried to lighten the mood, to reclaim control. "Well, there's the age difference. A 42-year-old man lusting after a 32-year-old woman... that's one."
Aniket chuckled, his tone warm yet serious. "Forget the age. Five real things, Esha."
Taking a deep breath, Esha's eyes met his, feeling the pull. "One, your intelligence. The way you handle complexity is captivating."
As she spoke, Aniket edged closer, until he was just within reach of the door.
"Two, your dedication to your work. I truly admire that."
"Three, your charm," she admitted, her voice softer, the room closing in.
"Four, your respect for others, even when it's hard."
"And five," she whispered, her breath hitching, "your eyes... they see me in ways I sometimes can't see myself."
As she finished, Aniket gently pushed her against the door, closing it with a soft click, sealing them off from the world. "Now, it's my turn," he said, his voice low, dripping with seduction.
He moved closer, his hands framing her face, thumbs brushing her cheeks. "Your lips," he murmured, his breath hot against her skin, "they're so fucking inviting, meant to be kissed, tasted."
Esha's heart raced, her resistance dissolving with his words.
"Your eyes," he continued, his gaze intense, "they tell stories of passion, of a life I've wanted to be part of since I first kissed you."
Before she could protest, Aniket lifted her, carrying her to his bedroom. In the dim light, clothes were shed, revealing their nakedness to each other's hungry eyes. His hands roamed her body, tracing every curve with a worshipful touch.
He laid her on the bed, his body following, the connection sparking instantly. Aniket's hands explored, igniting desire along her skin. His lips met hers in a kiss that promised more, deep and claiming.
Positioning himself, his hard cock teased her entrance. "You're more beautiful than I imagined," he whispered, voice thick with want.
Slowly, he entered her, the sensation overwhelming. Esha gasped, her body arching to take him in, a moan escaping as he filled her. "Aniket...," she breathed, her voice laden with pleasure and surrender.
Their rhythm was deliberate, each thrust a declaration of longing. Aniket's voice was a low, primal growl in her ear, praising her tightness, how she welcomed him, her responsiveness to his touch. "Your body... a fucking masterpiece," he murmured, pace quickening with need.
Esha's nails dug into his back, her moans growing louder, filling the room with the sounds of their union. She felt every inch of him, the way he moved inside her, igniting denied desires.
The room echoed with their lovemaking—the wet sounds of their bodies, whispered adoration, gasps of pleasure. Aniket praised her breasts, their movement with each thrust, her nipples hardening under his touch. He whispered about her skin's taste, her hair's feel, each word intensifying the moment.
As climax approached, their movements were urgent, raw. Esha was lost in sensation, her body in sync with his, her moans turning to cries as waves of orgasm crashed over her. Aniket followed, his release a deep groan, his body shuddering, their climax leaving them breathless.
After, they lay together, skin on skin, breathing slowing. Aniket's touch was gentle now, kisses soft on her forehead. Esha was overwhelmed by the intimacy, the betrayal of her vows, yet the undeniable connection they'd shared, leaving them to navigate their desires.
"What have I done?" The question echoed in Esha's mind, a relentless scream as the heat of her passion cooled, leaving nothing but a cold realization in its wake. She felt like she was waking from a dream, or perhaps a nightmare, her body still tingling from Aniket's touch, yet her heart sinking into despair. She ran from his room, the door slamming shut behind her like a judgment on her actions.
Back in her own room, she checked her phone, only to find several missed calls from Kunal. The sight of his name on the screen was like a stab of guilt through her heart. She had been so caught up in the whirlwind of Priya's teasing, Aniket's charm, and her own bodily desires that she hadn't even remembered to switch her phone from silent mode after the conference. The realization made her feel even more disconnected from her life, from her responsibilities.
She rushed to the bathroom, desperate to wash away the remnants of her betrayal, the scent of Aniket that clung to her skin like a confession. But as the water flowed, it seemed powerless against the stains of her conscience, the memories of their intimacy that would not be washed away.
That night, Esha sat outside her bathroom, her body curled into a fetal, tears streaming down her face. The guilt was overwhelming, her sobs quiet but fierce, a proof to the battle within her. She wrestled with her desires and her duties, the love for her family and the thrill of what she had just experienced with Aniket.
Morning came with the first light of the sun peeking through her hotel room window, offering a sliver of comfort. Exhausted from her emotional turmoil, Esha finally fell asleep, but it was a restless, sick sleep, her dreams haunted by the faces of those she loved.
She was jolted awake by a violent thud on her door. She tried to ignore it, hoping it would be a dream, but as the knocking grew louder, desperation in each thump, she composed herself. With a heavy heart, she opened the door to find Priya, her face etched with concern, and Aniket, who quickly moved out of sight once he saw Esha was safe.
Priya didn't wait for an invitation; she entered, her presence commanding. Before Esha could voice her turmoil, Priya spoke with an authority that left no room for argument. "Get ready for the conference, Esha. We've got day two to get through."
"I need to be alone," Esha muttered, her voice weak, her eyes swollen from crying.
But Priya was relentless, her tone sharp yet laced with concern. "No, you don't. You'll spiral into self-loathing if I leave you alone. Now, get ready."
Esha, feeling the weight of her friend's command, complied out of exhaustion rather than agreement. She moved like a ghost, her actions mechanical. She didn't care for her appearance, her reflection a stark reminder of her inner chaos. Priya, seeing this, quickly applied makeup to mask the evidence of Esha's tears, the swollen eyes a silent approval to her night of regret.
Throughout the first session of the conference, Priya held Esha's hand, offering silent support, her touch a lifeline in Esha's sea of guilt. The rest of the day was filled with formal meetings where Esha's presence was required more for formality than contribution, her mind elsewhere, her heart heavy.
Sensing Esha needed space away from the conference's pretense, Priya led her away from the venue. In a quieter part of the hotel, Priya's words took on a more confrontational tone. "This is why I never want to get married, Esha. What you and Aniket shared was just sex, a bodily need like food or water."
Esha looked away, her shame palpable, but Priya continued, her voice rising in frustration. "This patriarchal world, these human-made customs, they want us to follow rules that only bind women. If Kunal had done this, would he be tearing himself apart? I know men who juggle multiple affairs without a second thought!"
Priya's words were like a balm and a blade. "I've seen the desire in your eyes for Aniket, Esha. That's why I pushed you towards him. Because sometimes, we need to explore our desires to understand ourselves, not because I advocate for infidelity, but because we're human."
Her strong words didn't erase Esha's turmoil or make everything hunky-dory, but they gave her the strength to stand, to move on her own without clinging to Priya for support. They were a reminder of the complexity of human emotions, of the gray areas in life where right and wrong blur.
Once back at the conference venue, Priya sought out Aniket, her voice low but firm. "Give her space, Aniket. Don't approach her for a few days. Esha will come back to you soon."
Aniket nodded, his face a mask of concern and regret, his own heart heavy with the implications of their night together. He watched Esha from a distance, seeing her composed exterior but knowing the storm within.
Esha, for her part, felt like she was walking through the day under a heavy cloud. Each step was an effort, each smile forced, but Priya's words echoed in her mind, giving her a sliver of perspective on her actions. She wasn't absolved, not by a long shot, but she started to see herself not just as a betrayer but as a woman caught in the complexities of her own heart.
The conference ended, and Esha returned to her room, the weight of her actions still pressing down on her, yet the day with Priya had offered a small measure of healing. She knew she had to face Kunal, to face herself, but for now, she allowed herself a moment of quiet, of grief, and of the smallest hint of forgiveness towards her own human frailties. The path forward was uncertain, but she knew she couldn't continue to punish herself without at least trying to understand why she had strayed, and what it meant for her life, her marriage, and her soul.
Back in Mumbai, Esha's life felt like a déjà vu, the pain from months ago after Aniket's kiss now compounded by the weight of what had transpired in Delhi. But was this betrayal as devastating as she feared? This question circled her mind like a vulture over the desert.
The initial days were a struggle, the guilt of not fulfilling her promise to bring Aditya a gift from Delhi haunting her. The thought of her son's disappointed face was a sharp contrast to the dark desires that had led her astray. She found it nearly impossible to meet Kunal's eyes, the memory of being in another's embrace, not her husband's, a constant reminder of her infidelity.
However, Priya's reaction was like an unexpected beacon in Esha's storm. She treated the affair with a nonchalance that was both baffling and grounding to Esha. For Priya, what had occurred in the hotel room was merely a physical act, not a stain on Esha's soul. This perspective was what prevented Esha from drowning in her own guilt, offering her a perspective where her actions were not the end of her world but a moment of human frailty.
In the office, Esha's silence was palpable, but her behavior towards Aniket had changed. She was no longer pushing him away in meetings. Though they didn't speak directly, her eyes would linger on him when he was unaware, catching those moments where she remembered the intimacy they shared. She handled his portfolio with a care that bordered on personal, her nods to his suggestions a silent acknowledgment of their connection.
When Aniket had first kissed her, he was a stranger, one whose feelings she didn't reciprocate. Now, she was acutely aware of his affection for her. She saw him with new eyes - not just as a colleague but as a man who found her desirable, whose charm and looks were intertwined with the sensations of their night together. His eyes, so vivid in her memory, held a promise of pleasure, each memory of their intimacy a wave that still lingered back of her mind.
A few weeks later, at the office cafeteria, Esha and Priya sat down for lunch. "How are Kunal and Aditya?" Priya asked, her voice casual, probing.
"They've gone to Pune for the day, to visit Kunal's parents," Esha replied, her loneliness evident in her tone.
Priya whistled, her suggestion clear, "So, you're free to explore Mumbai with 'him'. Might help with the loneliness."
Esha's response was sharp, her accusation laced with frustration. "Priya, you're misguiding me, jeopardizing my marriage. I expect better from you, from a friend of over a decade."
Priya, with her own deeply held views on life, looked at Esha intently, her words coming out as she chewed, her story unfolding in pauses for emphasis. "Jeopardize? Let me... tell you... what jeopardy really means. My mother... she couldn't marry the man she loved... because society back then... wouldn't allow it."
Esha listened, her heart heavy with the weight of what was coming.
Priya continued, her voice hardening with memory, "My sister and I... we were born into a home where... my father, drunk and bitter... spent nights with prostitutes... he brought women home... showed no respect for his wife or daughters."
Esha's eyes widened, the story revealing a part of Priya she had never known.
"But no one called him out... because he was a 'man'," Priya said, her words sharp, cutting through the air between them. "My mother... she was blamed... for not giving birth to a boy, as if... women controls the chromosomes, while the truth is otherwise."
Esha felt a chill, the horror of Priya's reality sinking in, the injustices highlighted by the mere fact of gender.
"And then... because she once spoke to her old love... shared her grief," Priya paused, her voice dropping to a whisper, "she was found dead... burnt... a few days later."
The silence that followed was profound, filled with the weight of Priya's revelation. Esha was stunned, listening to the tragedy Priya had endured. The word 'jeopardy' took on a new, haunting meaning. It wasn't just about personal acts of betrayal but about the systemic, societal jeopardy women faced, the rules that society makes keeping male chauvinism in mind.
Taking a deep breath, Priya, aiming to lighten the mood yet leaving the gravity of her story hanging in the air, picked up her phone, winked at Esha, and dialed a number. "Hi, one of my friends is feeling very lonely. Her husband and son are out of town. Would you mind giving her some company today after work?"
Esha understood immediately who Priya was calling, and she tried to interject, to stop this from escalating further. But Priya was already standing, signaling the end of their lunch break. "Go enjoy life, Esha," she said with a playful tone, "Life's too short for regrets."
Esha left in contemplation, the weight of Priya's story juxtaposed with her own actions, making her question the very fabric of her life, her choices, and the societal norms she has been imposed with. It was a moment of profound introspection, where the essence of 'jeopardy' was not just about her guilt but about understanding the complexity of desire, loyalty, and the human condition, especially through the lens of what women endure silently.
Back in her cabin, Esha couldn't focus on work. The story Priya told about her mother's tragic end stirred deep emotions, making Esha reflect on her own choices. Though not a feminist by label, Esha believed in gender equality and shared responsibility. She held marriage vows sacred, yet Priya's tale made her question her path. Would following her heart with Aniket lead to judgment? Would she be blamed if Kunal learned of her infidelity, leading to their marriage's downfall?
Her eyes moved from Kunal and Aditya's photo, her anchors, to the magazine Aniket had sent as an apology. Picking it up, the scent was unmistakable, the same one that had enveloped her in Delhi, marking her body and psyche, a reminder of forbidden pleasures.
Esha felt pulled in three ways: her family, Aniket, and society's looming judgment. Each tugged at her heart, her mind a battlefield of guilt, desire, and fear.
As she prepared to leave, Aniket's voice stopped her. Dressed in a white kurti and baggy salwar, her hair loosely tied, her face tense, her heart beat heavily. She had hoped he'd ignore Priya's suggestion, but here he was.
"Come with me," he said, his voice a blend of command and invitation, leading her to his car. Esha followed, her movements automatic.
"Where are we going?" she whispered over the car's engine.
"To my apartment. I make the world's best coffee," Aniket replied, his tone teasing yet sincere.
In his living room, the air was charged with anticipation. Esha sat on the sofa, her kurti pushed up, her bra undone, one breast exposed to Aniket's eager mouth, his tongue tracing patterns that made her shiver. Kneeling between her legs, his fingers explored her, each touch revealing her desire.
Esha was adrift in sensation, eyes closed, whispering his name, her body hungry for more. The room filled with their breaths, the wet sounds of their connection, her moans a song of surrender.
Aniket moved her to the carpet, entering her with deliberate thrusts, each one eliciting a gasp, her body eagerly meeting his, despite her inner turmoil. He directed her gaze to the mirror, showing them entwined.
"Look," he whispered, voice thick with lust, "Only a man my age can truly appreciate a woman your age," teasing her earlier remark. Esha blushed, the mirror showing not just their act but their undeniable connection.
In the reflection, she saw herself wrapped around him, legs entwined, toes curling with each deep thrust. This image contrasted sharply with her thoughts of duty, amplifying the moment's passion. Her moans grew louder, mingling with the rhythmic sounds of their bodies, filling the room with their symphony of desire.
Aniket's hands worshipped her body, his touch a stark contrast to their primal act. Esha's nails dug into his back, pulling him closer, her voice a mix of pleasure and pleas. "Aniket," she breathed, each word a confession of her longing, her surrender.
Their pace intensified, the room echoing with their lovemaking, the gasps, moans, and whispered affirmations of how good, how right this felt. The climax was intense, Esha's cries blending with Aniket's groans, their bodies shuddering together, the mirror reflecting their shared ecstasy.
After, lying on the carpet, their breathing calmed. Esha's mind cleared, the reality of her actions sinking in. The mirror now just observed, reflecting her taking yet another step beyond the line she'd already crossed. Aniket, sensing her change, held her gently, whispering, "Esha, this doesn't have to be the end," his voice full of hope.
But for Esha, the weight of her choices was heavy. The thrill of Aniket was overshadowed by guilt. The sounds of their passion echoed, a juxtaposition of liberation and fear, as she faced her desires, society's judgment, and the consequences.
As time passed, Esha and Aniket's relationship deepened, moving from a professional facade laced with forbidden attraction to something profound and personal. They shared laughter, understanding, and conversations that felt like coming home.
In Aniket, Esha discovered not just a lover but a confidant who saw past her roles as wife and mother. This hidden relationship offered her a taste of freedom, a chance to live for herself in moments stolen from the world.
With Aniket, Esha felt truly acknowledged, a feeling she hadn't known she craved. Their bond was a secret garden where she could grow freely, untethered by societal expectations. Each encounter added layers to their connection, rich with shared secrets and empathetic glances.
What once required persuasion for Esha to join Aniket in private now flowed naturally. The initial hesitations and planning had faded, their meetings becoming a familiar dance, each touch a note in their intimate symphony.
Their professional interactions at the bank doubled as a cover for their clandestine meetings. Now, there was no need for excuses; work provided the perfect alibi. Business lunches and client reviews were their moments to indulge in each other.
Esha had become adept at arranging these secret escapes, her calendar a tapestry of deceit where each meeting with Aniket was a thread of passion. Discussions about markets or strategies were charged with unspoken desires, electrifying their professional encounters.
In her solitude, Esha pondered the future of this affair, hoping Aniket might eventually move on. Once, teasing him over coffee, she suggested, "You know, Aniket, time waits for no one. Maybe it's time to think about settling down?"
Aniket's eyes softened, a hint of sorrow visible. He took her hand, his touch warm, "Esha, I've considered it. After losing my first love in an accident, no one has filled that void."
He paused, looking deep into her eyes, "When I first heard your voice, it was like hearing her again. That same depth, the same seductive tone." His voice carried nostalgia, "Your beauty, the care you took with my portfolio... it all felt familiar."
"Your beauty," he continued, brushing a strand of hair from her face, "it reminded me of the light she brought into my life. The way you handle my portfolio," he admired, "it's like a melody I thought was lost. You've rekindled parts of me I thought were gone."
Their lunches became more than escapes; they were moments of true connection. Aniket would say, "Your laughter is like sunlight breaking through clouds. I didn't realize how much I needed that light."
Esha, feeling the excitement of their secret, would respond, "With you, I can just be me."
In these confessions, their bond transcended the physical, touching on a romantic depth. Esha cherished these moments, these words that painted their affair with love and meaning.
Their meetings were filled with these intimate exchanges. "You make me feel truly alive," Aniket would say, his eyes locked with hers, a promise of more.
Esha, in turn, would admit, "With you, I feel whole, not just pieces of a life."
These sentiments, shared in quiet corners or whispers in his apartment, wove their affair into something beautiful, even if fleeting.
Lying beside Kunal, watching his peaceful sleeping face, a shiver ran down Esha's spine. That evening, she had experienced an incredible intimacy with Aniket in his apartment, moments that now felt like both a thrill and a betrayal.
She turned her gaze back to her husband. What was it that she missed in her marital life that led her to share her body and soul with another man, even more than she did with Kunal now?
Was Kunal less good-looking? Certainly not. Both coming from Sindhi families who had settled in different parts of Maharashtra during the partition, they inherited good looks from generations past. Yes, after seven years of marriage, Kunal had put on some weight and become a bit of a couch potato, but wasn't that a common fate for many married men and women? After years of marriage, with life revolving around children and responsibilities, most couples let go of the focus on appearance and physique.
In contrast, Aniket, just a few inches taller than Kunal, carried the robust Punjabi genes but took meticulous care of his looks and body. Esha knew about the small gym in his apartment. Sometimes, when he was in the mood, he'd invite her to join him for a session with dumbbells. Esha, while not particularly fond of exercise herself, was fortunate not to have the tendency to gain weight easily, unlike many from her community.
However, holding Aniket in her arms, feeling his biceps and broad chest sculpted by regular training, was undeniably thrilling. But was physical attraction the sole reason for her actions? She didn't think so.
Was Aniket a better lover then? Esha was not sure. Both men took care of her comfort, each in their own way.
Kunal's devotion was the kind that Esha had always cherished, a comfort in the chaos of life. He was the embodiment of a caring husband, shouldering the financial burdens so she could feel secure, always attentive to her needs, even in the intimacy of their bedroom. His tenderness during their first night together had set a tone of respect and love, his concern for her comfort never waning. Even now, his eyes would soften with worry if she showed the slightest sign of discomfort during their mating. But the routine of life, the weight of responsibilities, had slowly altered their physical closeness. Their love was no less, but the passion seemed to have settled into a quieter, less frequent rhythm.
Esha had accepted this shift as a natural progression of marriage, especially after their son entered their lives. The focus had shifted so dramatically towards nurturing their family, providing for their future, that the wild, passionate explorations of their early days seemed like a distant memory. When Kunal sought intimacy, there were times Esha's mind was elsewhere, caught in the web of daily stresses or the exhaustion from corporate battles. And when she craved closeness, Kunal might be too tired, his mind on work deadlines or the next big project. Their bodies, once so in sync, now danced to the beat of life's demands, creating moments of missed connections. Esha before meeting Aniket, thought this is a norm and story of every household.
But was what Esha thought as a norm truly the case? Aniket was also caring, ensuring Esha's comfort. Yet, he had a way of pushing her limits.
If Esha shrieked at his entry, Aniket would take his time, arousing her until she was ready for his intensity. His actions were like a worship of her body.
He'd pinch her nipples, lick and suck on them, then move to her vagina, lapping at her clit. His deep thrusts allowed her to moan freely, exploring new positions together.
She remembered one particularly challenging pose where Aniket wanted to make love to her while holding her up in the air. Her heart had leaped into her throat at the thought of falling, the fear mingling with excitement. "Aniket, no, I'll fall, I'm not that athletic!" she protested, her voice a mix of fear and anticipation.
Aniket's eyes sparkled with mischief and desire. "Trust me, Esha. I've got you," he whispered, his voice low and reassuring. His hands found her waist, lifting her effortlessly. She wrapped her legs around him, feeling exposed yet thrilled. "See, you're safe with me," he murmured, his breath hot against her neck.
He guided her down onto him, the sensation of being suspended, supported only by his strength, sending waves of pleasure through her. "Oh, Aniket," she gasped, her voice turning into a moan as he began to move, each thrust a reflecting his control and her surrender. With every careful, deep movement, fear transformed into thrill, her body adjusting to the rhythm, her trust in him making the pose both daring and delightful.
With Aniket, having two sessions in a day was not just possible but a reality, something Esha hadn't even considered practical had Aniket wouldn't have entered her life.
One day, after persistent requests from Aniket, Priya concocted a plan . She picked up her phone and dialed Kunal, "Hey Kunal, I was thinking, how about Esha comes over tonight? We could have some girl talk."
Kunal, unsuspecting, replied, "Sure, Priya. She might enjoy that. Let me know if you need anything."
But instead, Esha found herself at Aniket's apartment, the night stretching into a marathon of passion.
They had four sessions until morning, each one blurring into the next, Esha losing count of her orgasms in the haze of pleasure.
Aniket had taken her in almost every part of his apartment, making her explore new sides of her sexuality, her desires, her own body in ways she had never imagined. This wasn't just about the physical act but about discovering the breadth of her own pleasure, the depths of her own sensuality.
Esha was living a double life, juggling her domestic routine with an electrifying secret one.
Aniket's apartment was her refuge, a place for stolen moments. His once ample wardrobe was now half hers, signifying her playful takeover, filled with tokens of their affair. This space had become her private refuge, adorned with Aniket's gifts—sarees that clung to her like a lover's touch, lingerie so sheer it whispered promises, and jewelry that sparkled with their shared secrets. Each item was a memento of their covert romance.
She'd often stand before the bedroom mirror, slipping into a new saree or watching how a necklace danced against her skin. The room was scented with her perfume, intermingling with the remnants of their passion, making it feel more hers than his. Every piece told a story, every trinket a memory of their encounters, turning this place into a treasure chest of intimacy.
Esha recalled her initial refusal of Aniket's lavish gifts, especially the first pendant he offered when they lay bare on his bed, the air still thick with the scent of love. Aniket's fingers traced her neck as he placed it on her, murmuring, "This beauty's for my beautiful girl." The luxury overwhelmed her, her self-respect cautious against seeming materialistic.
Aniket, seeing her hesitation, smiled, "You deserve to be adorned like this. It's even more beautiful on you." But when she resisted, he enlisted Priya's help.
Priya challenged Esha, "He spent days on this. It's a special order, a tribute to your allure. Don't let pride rob you of this." Convinced by the sentiment, Esha accepted, feeling the pendant's coolness against her skin, a physical manifestation of Aniket's devotion. This set the precedent for keeping gifts at his place for their private escapades, enhancing the allure of each encounter.
Then came the payal. Esha, curious, asked about his choice. Aniket smirked, "I love the sound it makes when your legs are wrapped around me."
"Aniket, your mind!" Esha laughed, her cheeks flushing as she admired it, then moved closer to him on the bed. "And what does that sound do to you?"
"It drives me wild," Aniket confessed, his voice dropping, "Makes me want to keep you here, making love to you into oblivion."
With a playful, seductive tone, Esha teased, "So, this is for our... intimate sessions?"
"Exactly," he affirmed, mischief in his eyes, "I need to hear that sweet jingle with every move you make."
Esha laughed, snuggling into him, slipping the payal onto her ankle, "Then let's see if it can keep up with us."
His response was a growl full of desire, "Oh, it will, and so will I."
Every relationship has its challenges, and Esha and Aniket were no exception. There were numerous occasions when Aniket longed for Esha by his side, only to be met with her refusals. Esha could only carve out time on weekdays, using work as an excuse to meet him. Weekends were a firm "no" since she dedicated them entirely to her son and husband. On a few rare weekends, she managed to sneak away by deceiving Kunal and Aditya, but frequent excuses risked inviting suspicion. Aniket's desire to spend more time with Esha grew with each passing day; he would emotionally blackmail her, coax her, but often, relenting was out of the question for Esha. Over their year-long affair, Esha had only spent one entire night at his apartment after Aniket's persistent pleading. That night, though Priya had helped, the fear of getting caught hung over Esha, leading her to declare it would be the last time, despite the intense pleasure they shared.
Aniket, despite having a woman in his life, often found himself alone when he wished Esha was beside him. The situation escalated when Esha faced several challenges: Aditya fell ill, then her father-in-law suffered a heart attack, necessitating her presence in Pune, working from home. Esha managed to connect with Aniket via Zoom under the guise of client meetings or through phone calls when she was alone. However, the lack of physical interaction was driving both to desperation, especially
Aniket, who had become accustomed to their physical intimacy and found himself unable to desire anyone else.
As soon as Esha entered Aniket's apartment, he was there, bracing her from behind as the door closed. "I've missed you so much," he murmured, his voice a blend of complaint and longing, "It's been a month since you were here."
Esha, feeling his warmth against her back, teased, "Awww, having an affair with a married woman is challenging, you know. I have responsibilities, Aniket. Maybe you should find a girl and get married."
Aniket pulled her closer, his breath hot against her ear, "I can't think about another woman when I have you."
Turning her head, Esha caressed his cheek, still held in his embrace. "My baby," she said, referring to him playfully, "is getting possessive."
Without another word, Aniket led her to the bedroom, his urgency palpable. Once there, with her eyes closed, the sensation of Aniket's hard length sliding in and out of her, each thrust filling her with a mix of pleasure and longing, Esha's mind wandered to how she would navigate this challenging situation. The possessiveness in Aniket's eyes was clear, a silent demand for more than she could publicly give. The deep, rhythmic penetration was both a reminder of their undeniable chemistry and the complexity of her life, her heart torn between the thrill of their affair and the love for her family.
The relationship between Esha and Aniket was growing more complicated with time. She felt she couldn't live without him, yet the prospect of no future for their relationship gnawed at her.
While doing the dishes or cooking for her family, Esha would often lose herself in thought, the repetitive motions of her chores not enough to keep her mind from wandering to Aniket.
She found herself getting irritated over small things, snapping at Kunal or Aditya over trivial matters, only to later regret her behavior, understanding she shouldn't let her inner turmoil affect her family.
After lunch, Esha and Priya strolled around the office building, Esha's face serious, while Priya observed her with an empathetic gaze.
"You put me in this situation, Priya," Esha accused, her voice a mix of blame and confusion.
Priya sighed, "I thought it would be just physical, Esha. I didn't expect it to go this far."
Esha shook her head, "This was exactly what I feared when you were pushing me towards Aniket."
"I still believe you have every right to explore your sexuality," Priya countered, her tone firm yet understanding.
"But you need to talk to Aniket," Priya continued. "I think he's falling for you."
Esha's eyes widened, "Falling for me? No, no... neither of us should fall in love."
Priya looked at her intently, "But what if he already loves you?"
"Society doesn't recognize this kind of love, Priya. It's doomed from the start," Esha said, her voice heavy with sorrow.
"Then tell him, Esha. Tell him you can't go beyond this," Priya suggested, her voice gentle but insistent.
Esha's eyes became wet with unshed tears, "I wish I could tell him that."
Priya, with a knowing look, taunted softly, "You love him too, don't you?"
Esha avoided her gaze, "I... I don't know what I feel."
Priya's eyes softened, "I can see it in your eyes, Esha."
Esha looked away, her silence speaking volumes.
"Let me see what I can do," Priya offered, her tone one of resolve, ready to navigate the complex emotions of her friend.
After an intense discussion with Esha, Priya felt a profound empathy for her friend's predicament.
She spent the night reflecting on how she could assist Esha through this tangled situation. Priya remembered how she had initially felt a twinge of jealousy when Esha was assigned to Aniket, the bank's most charming client. His arrival had sparked something in her - a crush that quickly turned into professional respect as she watched Esha and Aniket's dynamic evolve.
Their professional bond had always been intriguing, but it was the incident of the kiss that shifted everything into a more personal realm.
Aniket, feeling guilty about a harsh reaction to a professional setback, had sought Priya's advice on how to apologize to Esha. He came to her, asking for insights into Esha's interests, claiming it was merely an attempt to make amends. Priya, knowing Esha's family well, had cautioned him about the sanctity of Esha's marriage.
Yet, when Esha confided in Priya about the kiss, it altered her perspective. The way their eyes met, there was an undeniable attraction, a chemistry that Priya believed was only held back by Esha's commitment to her vows.
This realization fueled Priya's feminist beliefs, pushing her to advocate for Esha's right to explore her emotions, even if it meant navigating beyond the confines of marriage. She had hoped, like many flings, this would be brief, but the depth of their connection had now complicated matters beyond her initial expectations.
Priya had become a confidante not just to Esha but to Aniket as well. He would call her, sometimes in the loneliness of the night, drunk with desire and longing for Esha, sharing his feelings with an intensity that was both touching and troubling. Aniket had once asked Priya to intervene, to somehow make Esha dedicate more of herself to him, but Priya knew she couldn't manipulate Esha's choices.
Determined to help Esha find clarity, Priya decided she needed a deeper understanding of Esha's emotions before she could offer any advice. She proposed a casual meeting at a nearby mall over the weekend, under the pretense of shopping, hoping to delve into Esha's turmoil in a relaxed setting.
The following day, she reached out to Aniket, her voice both serious and supportive over the phone.
"Aniket, if you want my help to see what the future holds for your relationship with Esha, you'll need to play along," Priya said.
They talked through a few more points, the specifics of their plan taking shape.
As their conversation neared its end, Priya gave him a direction, "Come to the mall at 6 PM. Esha will be there too."
It was easy for Esha to excuse herself from her family for a few hours on Saturday, claiming she was going window shopping with Priya. She arrived on time, watching Priya flit from one shop to another, her enthusiasm infectious yet a stark contrast to Esha's inner turmoil. After their shopping adventure, they settled in a secluded corner of the mall's top-floor food court.
Priya's voice was earnest as she leaned closer, "Esha, if you want my help, you need to be completely honest with me."
Esha, not knowing where this was going, agreed, "Okay."
"How often do you and Kunal have sex?" Priya's question was direct, catching Esha off guard.
Esha's defense was immediate, "This isn't why we're here, Priya."
"Trust me, it's relevant. Be honest," Priya insisted.
Esha knew she was lying when she said, "Like any other couple," the image of her passionate moments with Aniket flashing in her mind.
Priya wasn't fooled, "Come on, Esha, the truth."
Esha sighed, "2-3 times a month."
"And before Aniket?" Priya prodded.
Esha dodged directly answering, "After seven years, every couple's libido naturally wanes."
Priya nodded, "I'll take that as 2-3 times a month then." She tried to lighten the mood with a chuckle, "Mrs. Wankhede told me her husband still does it twice a week, even after 18 years."
Priya's tone turned more serious, "That's not a lot, though."
Esha confessed, "With Aditya and both of us working, it's not the priority. But we're content."
"Did you ever try to spice things up?" Priya asked, her curiosity piqued.
Esha was hesitant, "We watched some porn early on, different themes to explore. But life got in the way."
Priya's next question was bold, "Any role-playing or involving someone else?"
Esha blushed, defending the sanctity of her marriage, "No, nothing like that."
Priya nudged her playfully, and Esha recalled, "Once, at my college reunion, I introduced Kunal to a guy who had a crush on me. That night, Kunal mentioned his name, but it was just playful. He felt guilty afterwards, never did it again."
"Was that night's sex different?" Priya teased, her eyes twinkling.
Esha, not catching the full implication, gave a playful nod.
The conversation took a sharp turn when Priya asked about Aniket, "How does the sex compare with Aniket?"
Esha's cheeks turned red, "I don't compare them."
"Is Aniket demanding?" Priya clarified.
Esha whispered, "Very much so."
"Does it make you uncomfortable, or does he push too far?" Priya asked, her voice laced with concern.
Esha's silence was telling, and Priya interpreted it, "I'll take that as a 'No' then."
Priya then dropped the bombshell, "Aniket is coming at 6 today." Esha's face flushed with a mix of excitement and panic; she hadn't been prepared for this.
Esha's expression was one of confusion, "Why didn't you tell me?"
"He misses seeing you on weekends. I thought it'd be nice for him to join us," Priya explained with a grin. Esha's heart raced with the thrill and fear of being so close to home with Aniket. When she saw him waving at them, her excitement was undeniable.
After some casual conversation, Priya spoke to both, "I need to make something clear to Aniket. Esha, you're married; there's no future for you two."
Esha's heart plummeted, a fake nod escaping her, masking her true feelings. The thought of Aniket moving on was like a knife twisting in her gut, a jealousy she wasn't ready to acknowledge.
Turning to Aniket, Priya said, "I saw you with a girl this weekend. She's quite beautiful."
Esha felt a sharp sting of jealousy, her stomach knotting. Aniket's response was simple, "She's just a friend." But Esha's glance at him was a storm of emotions, her eyes searching for any sign that he might be lying or hiding something.
Priya teased, "I wouldn't mind if she was your girlfriend."
A wave of possessiveness washed over Esha, her heart racing. Aniket quickly clarified, "It's not like that."
But Priya persisted, "She seems perfect for you. You should chase her."
The words felt like a punch to Esha's chest. Anger, hurt, and an undeniable jealousy flared within her. She stood abruptly, her face a mask of rage she tried to conceal. She glanced at her watch, "I have to go, I've got so much work." Without waiting for a response, she left, her exit marked by an undercurrent of emotional turmoil. Priya watched with a slight, knowing smile, while Aniket's face tensed with concern.
Sunday dawned, and Esha was adrift in a sea of conflicting emotions, Aniket's voice from the day before still reverberating with explanations she didn't want to hear. If Priya hadn't been there, her rage might have spilled over into something more visceral. Why this storm of jealousy when she had always whispered in their secluded moments that their affair had no future? Yet, the mere thought of Aniket with another woman ignited a possessive fire within her.
The night had been sleepless, haunted by the scent of Aniket's skin, his gaze that devoured her, the husky timbre of his voice in the height of their passion, the expert touch of his hands, and the exquisite afterglow they'd shared in front of his bedroom mirror. No amount of focus on Aditya's beloved breakfast or the tranquil tea with Kunal on the balcony could shake Aniket from her thoughts.
The afternoon brought a call from Priya, slicing through the silence. "Why the hell did you react like that, Esha?"
With Kunal and Aditya out at the park, Esha was free to vent. "You and Aniket, conspiring to tell me how pretty that girl is?"
Priya's laughter was edged with mockery. "What do you want, Esha? That a man should always be at your beck and call? And when he needs someone beside him, he should wait for a slot in your schedule, leaving him all alone and horny?"
Then came the bombshell, "You should give divorce to Kunal." The words hit Esha like a bullet. "I'd rather die than think about divorcing him," she shot back, her voice laced with pain and defiance.
"You're going to drive me insane, Esha," Priya sighed, exasperated by the emotional chaos.
"But listen, it was just a prank, a way to brace you for real surprises down the line," Priya confessed.
"Shit," was Esha's only reply, a cocktail of relief and embarrassment swirling within her.
The following day, Esha stood at Aniket's door, her knock a demand. "You rascal, you're meeting another woman behind my back?" Her playful punch carried the weight of her jealousy.
"How dare you not ask for my permission before meeting that bit...?" she struck again, her words sharp avoiding the complete word.
Aniket, amused, dodged her blows, only to be pushed down onto the couch. Esha straddled him, her voice dripping with a possessive coo, "You are mine, ohhh," her fingers tightening around his jaw.
With a feverish urgency, Esha ripped Aniket's shirt, buttons scattering like fallen stars. Clothes were discarded in a frenzy, skin on skin, her lips finding his ear, licking and nibbling, her nails raking across his chest, drawing out moans of pleasure.
She guided him inside her, riding him with a rhythm born of jealousy and need, her eyes locked onto his, a silent declaration of ownership. Her pussy clenched around him, milking every sensation as they moved together.
As climax approached, the words burst from her, "I love you, I love you," a chant of passion and possession until they both surrendered to ecstasy, their juices mingling.
After their breathing normalized, Aniket looked at her with a mixture of awe and affection, "Fuck, that was awesome," he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
"Only for you, baby," Esha purred, curling into him, her ear against his chest, listening to the heartbeat that had become her secret symphony.
Esha and Aniket lay entangled on the couch, their bodies pressed close, basking in the afterglow. Esha's skin was a soft, tender canvas, an aphrodisiac that sent Aniket's blood racing with heat, his senses enraptured by the curves of her body molding against his.
"I crave another round, deep and slow," Esha purred, her fingers playfully twirling in Aniket's chest hair.
"Two is the norm for me," Aniket grinned, his tone suggestive, indicating he needed at least two sessions to feel truly sated.
"I love that about you," Esha cooed, her voice dripping with appreciation for his sexual stamina.
With that, Aniket scooped her up, their naked bodies pressed together as he carried her to the bedroom for another session of "Deep and Slow".
As Aniket began to move within her, each thrust met with Esha's gasps, she felt every inch of him, every motion designed to drive her wild.
"So you love me, what about Kunal then?" Aniket's mention of Kunal caused a ripple of unease in Esha. Her body, which had been welcoming, now tensed, resisting his movements.
To shift the conversation, Esha wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer, her giggle playful yet nervous, "I'll keep both my men."
Aniket resumed his rhythm, his thrusts now more insistent. "Why not include him in our love-making?" he suggested, pushing deeper.
"Please, let's just focus on us, you and me," Esha pleaded, not wanting Kunal to infiltrate their intimate moment.
"Or maybe he can just watch us," Aniket teased, his movements now forceful, challenging her boundaries.
"No, don't do this!" Esha protested, but her body belied her words, meeting his thrusts with equal fervor, the bed creaking loudly beneath them.
"Or he could wipe your sweat while I fuck you," Aniket continued, his pace quickening, his words pushing her towards the edge.
"Aniket, please don't do it, I beg you," Esha responded, her voice a mix of desire and desperation, her body now syncing with his aggressive pace.
Their love-making intensified, the room shaking with the force of their passion. As Aniket neared his climax, he poured into her, his love liquid spreading warmth, marking their union amidst the chaos of their desires and fears.
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