Adultery The Facilitator

[clearlover]

Part N:




The night stretched on after the party, and Esha lay beside Kunal in the quiet of their bedroom, her mind still entangled with the memories of the night. The silence was a stark contrast to the cacophony of emotions she had felt in that other man's presence. Kunal's breathing was steady, a comfort in its normalcy, but Esha felt anything but calm. She was a storm of desire and guilt, her heart divided between the man beside her and the one she had left at the party.

Kunal, sensing the distance between them, turned to her, his touch gentle but filled with intent. "Esha, you seem far away tonight."

Esha forced a smile, her heart not in it. "Just thinking about work," she lied, her voice soft, hoping to divert his attention.

Kunal moved closer, his hand tracing the curve of her waist, a move that felt too familiar, too rehearsed. "Let me help you forget about work," he whispered, his voice trying to coax her into the moment.

But Esha couldn't shake off the image of him, the way his eyes had held hers, the unspoken promises in their conversation. As Kunal's hands began to explore, she felt a pang of frustration. He was attempting to mimic what she had shared with that other man, his movements less confident, less passionate, as if he was reading from a script he didn't quite understand.

"Kunal, not like this," Esha murmured, her voice a mix of irritation and sadness.

Kunal paused, his eyes searching hers in the dim light. "What's wrong?"

Esha bit her lip, the words on the tip of her tongue. "I just... I need it to be us, not a shadow of someone else."

He looked confused, hurt. "I'm trying to be what you need, Esha."

She shook her head, frustration rising. "It's not about needing someone else. It's about you, about us. I want you to be you."

Kunal's attempt at passion felt more like an imitation, a performance rather than the genuine connection they once had. He tried a new position, one she had shared with him, but it lacked the spontaneity, the fire. Esha felt herself withdrawing, her body present but her mind elsewhere, with his touch, his whispers, the way he seemed to know her body's secrets.

"You're not here," Kunal said, his voice a whisper of defeat.

Esha felt the guilt like a physical weight. "I'm sorry, Kunal. I am here, but my mind..." She couldn't finish, her voice trailing off.

Kunal pulled away, sitting up, his back to her. "Is it because of him?"

Esha's heart raced, the truth on the brink of spilling out. "It's not about him. It's about us finding our way back to each other," she insisted, her voice thick with emotion.

But the truth was, his shadow was cast over their intimacy. Kunal's attempts to reignite their passion only served to remind her of what she had felt with him, a comparison that left her feeling more frustrated, more unsatisfied. She wanted Kunal, but not like this, not when every touch felt like a pale imitation of another's.

The next morning, Esha's phone pinged with a message from Priya. It was a photo of him, taken from the previous night, his smile charming, his eyes full of life. The caption read, "Isn't this the smile you miss?"

Esha's frustration boiled over. She deleted the message, but the image was seared into her memory, stoking the flames of her internal conflict. Priya was fanning the fire, playing with her emotions, knowing exactly where to strike.

At work, Esha tried to bury herself in reports and meetings, but her mind was a whirl of thoughts about last night, about Kunal's efforts, and how they paled in comparison to the raw, unscripted desire she had with him. She felt trapped between her love for Kunal and the undeniable pull towards him, a man who seemed to understand and ignite her in ways she couldn't explain to her husband.

During her lunch break, she sat in her office, the solitude allowing her emotions to surface. She felt a deep-seated frustration, not just with Kunal's attempts but with herself for comparing, for yearning for something she knew she couldn't have without risking everything.

Her phone buzzed again, another message from Priya, this time with a link to a song that had played at the party, the lyrics hauntingly fitting her situation. Esha's hands trembled as she listened, each word a dagger to her heart, reminding her of what she felt with him.

Why does she keep doing this to me? Esha thought, anger mixing with a strange gratitude for the reminder of what she craved, of who she was in those stolen moments with him.

The day dragged on, each minute a battle between her duties as a wife, a mother, and the woman who craved more, who felt alive in ways she hadn't since before her affair was exposed. She wrote in her journal, the words flowing like tears:

"I'm caught in this web of my own desires, feeling like I'm betraying Kunal just by thinking of him. But why does every touch from Kunal feel like it's trying to chase a ghost? I want him to see me, to feel me as I am, not as a puzzle to solve or a challenge to meet.

Priya's games, they're like a match to this dry kindling inside me. She knows exactly how to stoke this fire, how to make me question everything. I'm frustrated, so frustrated that I can't just be happy with what I have. Is this my fault, or is it just human to want what feels like it completes you?"

The evening was quiet, Kunal and Aditya playing in the living room, their laughter a balm yet a reminder of the life she was supposed to cherish. But Esha felt distant, her mind replaying the night's intimacy, how it felt more like a duty than a desire.

Later, when Aditya was asleep and Kunal approached her with a hopeful look, Esha knew they needed to talk, not just about sex but about their connection.

"Kunal, we need to find our way back, but not by trying to be someone else," she said, her voice gentle but firm.

Kunal looked at her, his eyes reflecting his own frustration. "I just want to make you happy, Esha. I see you slipping away."

Esha took his hand, "I'm here, Kunal. But we need to start over, find our rhythm again, not mimic someone else's."

Kunal nodded, his voice low, "I want that too. I love you, Esha. I want to be enough."

Esha felt a tear escape, the complexity of her emotions overwhelming. "You are enough, Kunal. But we need to be us, not echoes of past desires."

They embraced, the hug a silent promise to work on their connection, but Esha knew the journey would be fraught with the shadows of her desires, with Priya's manipulations adding fuel to an already smoldering fire. As she lay beside Kunal, trying to find peace in his arms, she felt the frustration of wanting to love him fully while part of her yearned for the thrill, the passion she had known with him.

The night was long, filled with thoughts of how to reconcile her heart, her desires, and the life she had built, all while Priya watched from the shadows, her actions a catalyst for Esha's internal battle.




Several days had passed since the last fateful gathering, and the air between Esha and Kunal was thick with unspoken words and unfulfilled attempts at rekindling their intimacy. Esha felt herself walking on a tightrope, balancing her love for Kunal with the undeniable pull of her desires.

Then came Priya's invitation, another of her elaborate dinner galas, this time themed around 'Sensual Secrets'. The email was ornate, promising a night of indulgence and hidden passions. Esha's heart skipped a beat upon reading that Aniket was invited too.

Her phone pinged with a message from Priya: "I thought it would be fun to have all my favorite people in one place. See you there, Esha. Aniket's confirmed his presence."

Esha felt a mix of dread and anticipation. She contemplated denying the invitation, but her fingers hovered over the keyboard, the memory of Aniket's smile haunting her. She decided to lie to Kunal, crafting a narrative that would allow her to attend without raising suspicion.

"Kunal, my new bank has arranged a gala tonight to officially welcome all new joinees," Esha said, her voice steady but her eyes avoiding his.

Kunal looked up from his laptop, his expression one of mild surprise. "That sounds nice. It's good for you to network. What time will you be back?"

"I'm not sure, it might run late," Esha replied, guilt mingling with her excitement. "I'll text you if I'm going to be late."

"Okay, have fun," Kunal said, his voice carrying a note of encouragement, oblivious to the storm of emotions within her.


Aniket, upon receiving his invitation, had similar thoughts. He knew the risk, the temptation it presented, but there was an unsaid attraction, a pull he couldn't resist. He replied, "Thanks, Priya. I'll attend."

The night of the gala had arrived, transforming the venue into an oasis of luxury. The room was dbangd in velvet, the fabric whispering secrets of the night to come, while candles flickered, casting shadows that danced like forbidden lovers. The ambiance was set for seduction, every detail curated for maximum sensory impact.

Esha had chosen a dress for this occasion, a deep burgundy number that hugged her curves with an intimacy that echoed her inner turmoil. The dress was backless, revealing the smooth expanse of her skin, ending just at the small of her back, teasing with the promise of touch. The color matched the flush of her cheeks at the mere thought of seeing Aniket, her anticipation palpable. Her perfume was a blend of sandalwood and jasmine, creating an aura around her, a silent invitation to indulge in the mystery she carried. Her hair was styled in soft waves, cascading down one shoulder, adding to her allure.

Aniket, on the other hand, wore a suit that seemed tailored to his very soul, the fabric accentuating the breadth of his shoulders and the strength of his frame. His choice of attire was both a shield and a statement, the dark grey complementing his eyes, making them appear more intense, more inviting. His cologne was a musk, deep and primal, a scent that seemed to reach out across the room, beckoning Esha, stirring memories of nights filled with passion. His hair was styled back, giving him an air of effortless sophistication, yet the slight stubble on his jaw hinted at a wildness barely contained.

As they entered the room, the atmosphere thickened with their presence. Esha's dress caught the light, shimmering subtly, drawing the eye to her form, while Aniket's suit moved with him, each step an assertion of his confident grace. The air was charged with the scent of their perfumes mingling, creating an intoxicating cocktail that seemed to bind them in an invisible thread.

The candlelight played across Esha's face, highlighting the contours of her beauty, her eyes bright with the excitement of the forbidden. Aniket's gaze met hers from across the room, his eyes darkening with a familiar hunger, the suit not hiding the tension in his body, the anticipation in his posture.

The setting was more than just a backdrop; it was a co-conspirator in their dance of desire. The whisper of silk against skin, the soft glow of candles, the rich, inviting scents, all combined to create an environment where every glance, every touch was magnified, every moment a prelude to something inevitable, something they both knew they should resist, yet couldn't help but yearn for.


Priya, ever the puppeteer, greeted them with a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Esha, Aniket, so glad you both could make it. I've seated you together; thought it would be nice for old friends to catch up."

Esha's voice was cautious, "Priya, this isn't necessary."

Aniket added, "We can manage our own seating, thank you."

But Priya was unwavering, "Nonsense, it's all arranged. Enjoy the night."

As they took their seats, the tension between them was palpable, a current of electricity that seemed to charge the air around them. Esha felt her pulse quicken as she sat next to Aniket, their shoulders nearly touching, the proximity igniting memories she had tried to suppress.

Dinner commenced, and while conversations buzzed around them, Esha and Aniket were in their bubble, their words minimal, their glances speaking volumes. Priya ensured the wine was flowing, the atmosphere conducive to loosening inhibitions.

Under the table, without any premeditated thought, their feet touched. It was Aniket's leg brushing against Esha's, a spark that felt like fire. Esha's breath hitched, her body responding before her mind could catch up. She didn't withdraw. Instead, she let her foot press slightly against his, a silent agreement to this forbidden dance.

Aniket felt the contact like a jolt to his system, his body reacting with an intensity he couldn't control. He moved his foot, not away but closer, tracing the line of her ankle, the soft curve of her calf. The touch was slow, deliberate, an exploration under the guise of innocence. Esha's toes curled, her heart pounding with the thrill and guilt of this secret intimacy.

Their hands found each other under the table, fingers interlocking in a grip that was both desperate and tender. Aniket's thumb stroked the back of Esha's hand, sending waves of warmth through her. She felt the roughness of his hand, a contrast to the smoothness of her skin, each touch a reminder of their past, of what they had shared.

"Feel how my heart beats for you," Aniket whispered, his voice a low rumble, only for her ears, his breath hot against her skin.

Esha's response was a whisper, her lips close to his ear, "It's like fire, Aniket. You're setting me alight."

Their hands moved, exploring each other's in a dance of fingers, each touch sending pulses of desire through their bodies. Esha's hand ventured up his arm, feeling the strength beneath the fabric, a contrast to Kunal's, reminding her of the physical connection she once had with Aniket. She could almost taste his skin, the saltiness of his sweat mingling with his cologne, a scent that was uniquely him.

His hand, in turn, traced the inside of her wrist, the delicate pulse there racing under his touch. The intimacy of the gesture, hidden from view, made it all the more erotic. They were playing a game of shadows, where every touch was a secret shared, a forbidden thrill.

Priya, observing this silent exchange, felt a surge of satisfaction. She knew the chemistry between them, how a simple touch could reignite a fire. Her eyes flitted between them and the other guests, ensuring no one else caught on to the electric undercurrent at her table.

Esha felt the heat building within her, her body betraying her with each caress from Aniket. His foot now moved higher, tracing the back of her knee, a spot she had forgotten was so sensitive until now. Her breath came in shallow gasps, her mind a whirlwind of desire, guilt, and the intoxicating rush of being so close to him again.

"You remember how this feels, don't you?" Aniket murmured, his voice a seductive tease, his foot now daring to venture further, the sensation sending a shiver up her thigh.

Esha's voice was a breathy whisper, "Every touch, every moment with you... it's like I'm waking up."

Aniket's touch was not just physical; it was a reminder of the connection they had, the understanding, the passion. He felt a similar turmoil, the need to pull away clashing with the desire to pull her closer. His hand squeezed hers, a silent promise or perhaps a plea for forgiveness for the path they were treading.

As the dinner wound down, they reluctantly withdrew their hands, the contact broken, leaving a void that was almost painful. They looked at each other, the unspoken question of what next hanging between them. The night had been a dance of shadows, of hidden desires and silent promises.

Esha stood, needing to escape before she did something she would regret. Aniket followed suit, their hands barely brushing as they moved apart, the touch igniting one last spark.

"Thank you for the dinner, Priya," Esha said, her voice steady but her eyes betraying the storm within.

Aniket echoed her thanks, his eyes locked with Esha's for a moment too long, a silent conversation about what had transpired, what might have been. "This wasn't just dinner, Esha. It was... something more," he said, his voice thick with emotion.

As they left, the cool night air did little to quell the heat of their encounter. Esha felt the ghost of Aniket's touch, the thrill of their secret dance, and the weight of her choices. She knew she needed to confront these feelings, to decide where her heart truly lay, or risk losing herself to the shadows of her desires, manipulated by Priya's schemes.




The gala had ended, its last echoes of laughter and chiming glasses fading into the night. Priya sat alone in her apartment, the city's skyline a distant, indifferent witness to her contemplations. The room was dimly lit, only the soft glow of a lamp casting light over her figure as she swirled her glass of whiskey, the amber liquid reflecting her mood - dark, complex, and burning.

Tonight's event had been orchestrated with precision, every detail tailored to nudge Esha and Aniket closer, playing on the strings of their desires like a maestro. But as she sat there, the taste of vengeance sweet on her tongue, her mind drifted back to the past, to the moment her disdain for Esha and Kunal had taken root.

In a vivid flashback, a young Priya, brimming with ambition and dreams, stood in the college library, her thesis completed but for the final touches. It was the last day of submission, the culmination of her years of research on gender dynamics in urban India. She had pinned her hopes on winning a prestigious scholarship that would fund her PhD abroad.

The library was quiet, the air thick with the scent of old books and the hum of tension, the ticking clock a relentless reminder of the deadline. Priya, however, had to rush out for an urgent family matter, leaving her thesis in Esha's care, trusting her friend to handle it with the care it deserved.

"Make sure no one touches it," Priya had instructed, her voice urgent. "I'll be back in time to submit it."

But Esha, in those days, had just started seeing Kunal. The novelty of their young love had them in a bubble of their own, often oblivious to the world around them. That day, in a moment of carelessness, while they were giggling and whispering sweet nothings, Esha inadvertently allowed a can of soft drink to topple over, right onto Priya's thesis.

The horror on Esha's face was immediate as she watched the liquid seep through the pages, the ink bleeding, words blurring into illegible smudges. Kunal, trying to help, only added to the disaster by attempting to dab at the mess with whatever was at hand, but the damage was done.

Esha's voice was a mix of panic and apology, "Oh God, Priya's going to kill me! We need to fix this, Kunal!"

Kunal, with the same earnestness, suggested, "We can reprint it, right? There's time."

But back then, the electronic revolution hadn't yet fully taken over. Priya's backup was on a laptop that had been malfunctioning, the files corrupted, and with less than an hour until the deadline, reprinting was next to impossible. The college's printer was already overwhelmed, and no one had the software or the time to help them recover the digital files.

In the present, Priya took a sip of her whiskey, the burn in her throat a reminder of the fire that had ignited in her since that day. She watched the city lights, her eyes narrowing as she thought about how Esha had moved on, found love, built a family, all while Priya had to fight for every step she took in her career, always feeling one step behind where she should have been.

"You think you can just move on, Esha? After what you did?" Priya spoke to the empty room, her voice laced with bitterness. "You and your perfect little life with Kunal."

She remembered how she had befriended them, close enough to know all their secrets, their vulnerabilities. It had been easy to play the part of the supportive friend, the confidante, all while she plotted her revenge, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

Tonight had been another move in her game. Seeing Esha and Aniket together, the forbidden spark between them reignited, brought a smile to Priya's lips, but not one of joy. It was a smile of satisfaction, of seeing her plan unfold.

"Aniket, with his eyes full of longing, and Esha, pretending she's moved on," Priya mused aloud, her tone mocking. "Oh, how I enjoy watching you dance to my tune."

She thought back to how she had manipulated the seating, the wine, the ambiance, all to ensure they would be drawn closer, their past desires a flame she was stoking. She had seen the way their hands had found each other under the table, the subtle touches, the shared looks that spoke of a connection not extinguished but merely hidden.

"I've watched you, Esha, with your guilt, your desires," Priya said, her voice a whisper now, as if speaking directly to her absent friend. "You think you can just bury your true self under the facade of the perfect wife?"

Priya laughed then, a cold, mocking laugh that echoed in the silence of her apartment. "And the best part, the irony of it all, is how I've used the guise of feminism, of empowering women, to manipulate you. You thought I was your advocate, your liberator from the chains of marriage? No, Esha, I've been your puppeteer."

The whiskey glass was nearly empty, and Priya refilled it, the ice tapping gently., a sound that seemed to punctuate her thoughts. "And Kunal, always so oblivious. You think your love is enough to keep her?"

She plotted further, her mind racing with ideas on how to escalate her manipulation. She would continue to feed Esha's desires, make her question her happiness with Kunal, push her towards Aniket, not out of love for either but for the chaos it would bring, the destruction of the life they thought they had built on her pain.

"I'll make you feel every ounce of frustration, Esha. I'll make you understand what it's like to have your dreams ruined," Priya's voice grew colder, her plan taking shape. "And Kunal, you'll see your wife slip away, and you won't even know why."

She thought about the messages, the photos, the subtle hints she could send, each one a thread in the web she was weaving. She would use technology to her advantage, ensuring that Esha's privacy was breached again, that moments of intimacy with Aniket were captured, not for love but for leverage.

Priya stood, walking over to her window, looking down at the city that had both given her everything and taken so much away. "You think you're happy? I'll show you what true misery feels like, what it's like to live with a shadow over your life, as I have."

She turned back to her whiskey, taking another large gulp, her mind now on the next steps. She would continue to bring Esha and Aniket together, under the guise of events, work, or chance encounters, always with a twist, always with a goal to deepen the conflict within Esha's heart.

"And when you're at your lowest, Esha, when you're torn between the life you have and the passion you crave, then you'll remember me," Priya said, her expression one of dark determination. "You'll remember the girl whose dreams you drowned in a pool of spilled drink, whose life you altered because your love was more important than the responsibility you held for me."

Her plan was not just about revenge; it was about control, about seeing the perfect life Esha had built crumble under the weight of her own desires. Priya wanted Esha to feel the same loss, the same sense of being stuck in a life not meant for her, just as Priya had felt after that fateful day.

She sat back down, her mind now on the practicalities of her next moves. She would need to be careful, subtle, ensuring no direct finger could be pointed at her. She'd continue to be the friend, the ally, all while pulling the strings from the shadows.

"Each step you take towards Aniket, each moment of doubt in your marriage, I'll be there, whispering in your ear, reminding you of what you could have," Priya whispered to the night, her voice almost a caress of malice.

She imagined the final act, the moment when Esha would be forced to confront the reality of her manipulations, when Kunal would see the truth behind their crumbling relationship. It would be her moment of triumph, of proving that she could orchestrate the downfall of their happiness, just as they had inadvertently orchestrated the fall of her dreams.

Priya smiled, a cold, calculated smile, as she finished her whiskey. "I'll watch your world burn, and in its ashes, I'll find the satisfaction I've been denied," she declared, the room silent except for the ticking of the clock, each second a step closer to her ultimate revenge.