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

[krish_999]

Chapter 51

 

My heart raced as I welcomed Desai inside, pushing aside my apprehensions. He stepped forward with open arms, giving me a warm hug.

"How are you, bro?" His friendly voice helped ease my tension.
"Everything's fine," I managed to keep my voice steady.
Meera came forward to greet Desai, and she again drew Desai's undivided attention immediately. His smile broadened as he extended his hand, and their fingers intertwined in a handshake that lasted a heartbeat too long.
"How was the flight, Susheel?" Meera's voice carried s sense of nervousness and I couldn't help but wonder if Desai would attrib ute it to her excitement of meeting him.
"It was nice," Desai replied, his eyes never leaving her face. "Except this time, it felt longer."
Meera smiled at his subtle hint of his eagerness to reach here, to meet her.
 
I invited Desai to the living while clearing my throat, "we haven't made lavish arrangements for the anniversary, but I hope we'll have a memorable evening together. It's... just us. Perhaps the last celebration Meera and I will share."
I threw a glance at Meera's face as I spoke. Her eyes were fixed at Desai.
"You're being humble Krish," Desai said as he surveyed the room before turning to me. "The moment you invited me, you redefined the meaning of lavishness."
He thanked me again for inviting me. I forced a smile.
"It's okay to dress in formals... The suit looks sharp on you," I said, "but there's no need for such formality."
Desai glanced between us and smiled, though he appeared slightly nervous. "I chose to try to dress well... you know, I don't want anyone to change their mind at the last moment."
Meera smiled, "that's clever," she said. "Good looks are always on my checklist."
Her earlier nervousness seemed to melt away as Desai settled onto the couch. She disappeared into the kitchen, returning moments later carrying a crystal glass of water on a silver tray.
"Funny, I was just about to ask for water," Desai admitted. His gaze followed her movements as she served him, and I noticed how their eyes met; and stayed there a little longer than usual.
"It's not helping," he confessed quietly, "that I keep wondering if I'm good enough. This feels awkwardly strange." And he went on to express his admiration for her with a compliment. "You look absolutely stunning in this saree – like a gorgeous bride."
Meera's smile widened. "And you've come in a suit! Look nothing short of a groom."
She threw a quick glance at me before continuing, "I'm not sure what Krish might have told you, Susheel, but the way you're looking at me and the nervousness you're carrying give me a hint of what you might be expecting tonight."
"I'm nervous, yes," Desai acknowledged quickly, "because of the situation Krish has created for me."
He smiled at me before adding, "You know, Meera, this is the first time I've looked at a woman, met her eyes, and pictured her as a lifelong partner."
Meera froze, redness rising in her cheeks. "Oh my God, you're making me nervous too."
The embarrassment in her eyes was unmistakable as she stood speechless.
The situation was getting slightly awkward as they both said nothing, as if they didn't know what to say, and I seized the moment to intervene.
"Before this turns awkward, how about we start with a drink?" I suggested.
"Excellent idea," Desai said, and then turned to me. "I brought something special for making a cocktail – I thought it would be perfect for an occasion like this. With both of your permission, I'll mix it myself."
We agreed without hesitation.
Desai opened his luggage and took out a bottle of white rum.
"Exploring new hobbies, Susheel?" Meera asked.
"Not many," he said. "I learned about this only recently. I'm still not an expert, to be honest."
"No problem, we’ll help you," I said. "Consider yourself home – more at home than you've ever been here."
Meera gave me a quick glance, a hint of question in her eyes, but I gestured for her to stay calm.
 
We went to the kitchen to make the cocktail. Desai walked in front with the bottle. I asked him if he had picked it up from the Pune airport.
"No, Pune airport has nothing," Desai replied. "So I brought it from Mumbai."
"What do you need for the cocktail, Susheel?" Meera asked him.
"I’m afraid I might need your entire kitchen," Desai quipped, looking around.
"I’m relieved you didn’t ask for my bedroom," Meera retorted.
Her reply made both men laugh. I stepped closer to Meera shortly after. "He'll definitely ask for it later," I whispered.
Meera made a face at me.
 
In the kitchen, I helped Desai find a large glass and shaker. Meera helped by cutting lemon, strawberry, and peppermint and providing strawberry syrup.
As we all got engaged in the cocktail-making, it helped break the ice. Meera's nervousness about welcoming Desai melted away during the process, and by the time it was done, she was talking and smiling without any tension. I also noticed Meera and Desai having a small chat while she stood next to him, squeezing lemon into a bowl. Meera mentioned that his suit didn’t quite suit working in a kitchen. Desai responded that her gorgeous saree didn’t suit kitchen work either. They laughed together and looked at me.
"Neither do mine," I said.
"But you deserve it, because you wanted me to wear the saree," Meera replied.
"It seems Krish is doing more for me than you," Desai said.
Meera spoke about my good nature, detailing how it was my decision to part ways with her. She explained that I thought our living together would only cause her pain, as my fantasies weren’t going to stop. She said that, literally, I had been pushing her out of my life so she would choose Desai.
 
After the entertaining cocktail preparation, we returned to the hall and arranged the drinks and snacks on the centre table. We all chose to sit on different couches and then toasted.
Desai toasted first, “for the 10th anniversary of Meera and Krish.”
I followed him, “to a great future for Meera's friendship with Desai.”
Meera raised her glass and paused for a moment to look at me and then spoke, “to the friendship between you and Susheel… and also to you for being a wonderful husband.”
I think I enjoyed her words. And I loved how the cocktail tasted.
“Perfect.” I praised. “Expertly crafted.”
"Don't encourage him too much," Meera laughed. "He might start a cocktail empire next!"
"And I’ll have you as my partner in that," Desai responded.
 
After the first sip, Desai asked me to say who she would choose between us to exchange her glass with.
Meera said she would choose me.
Desai shook his head understandingly and remarked that her heart is still beating for her husband.
“I can see that in your eyes. But I want to assure you that I am not going to be offended if you go on to express it because I know how tough this night is going to be for you. Meera, I am in this only because you both chose to accept me. I should be grateful. There is nothing in this world that can offend me tonight because I am that happy, Meera. This is my night. A night that begins another phase of my life. You won’t believe me if I tell you how nervous I am. My fingers are shivering, my palms are sweating. I doubt it would help me get better even if you kissed me.”
After Desai spoke about his nervousness, I asked Meera to sit with him.
Meera shifted to his couch and sat next to Desai. She slowly placed her left palm over his right hand, and then offered her glass to him. Desai took her glass and handed his glass to her. After that, they both looked into each other's eyes and took a sip from their glasses.
I watched on, perceiving it as a moment when Desai attempted his advance towards her for the first time that night, and he did it successfully.
“This is cheeky stuff, actually,” Meera said after taking a sip and placing the glass down.
“Sometimes the cheeky stuff is fun,” Desai admitted.
“Krish is full of such stuff. I think you’ve learned it from him,” Meera said.
“I’ve learned from him more than he would have learned from me,” I said.
“It’s debatable stuff,” Desai said.
 
The chat went on for some time, and at one point, Desai mentioned that 23 days had passed since he had met Meera. The last time it had been 39 days, but his hunger to meet her was greater during these 23 days.
I said, "Well, you should wait for another day," and then quickly checked the clock and corrected myself, saying, "There are just a few hours left for today to pass."
Desai smiled, nodded at me, then looked at Meera.
"Yeah, just a few hours, Meera. Then I will be what you want. Krish told me to treat you like a queen. I wonder how you're going to treat me. Your king or a servant?"
Meera's eyes widened at his remark, and she looked at me before answering Desai.
"Who do you want to be, Mr. Susheel?"
Desai said he would like to be half king and half slave, case-to-case basis.
Meera laughed at his response. Desai and I joined in her laughter.
"I can see where you're heading, Mr. Romeo," Meera said. "I wonder how you remain patient during the long stretches of no intimacy."
Desai said, "That part of the credit goes to Krish's secretary."
I was surprised.
"What do you mean?" I asked.
Desai didn't hesitate. "You know how I ended up doing it with your assistant, mmm…" he paused to recollect her name, "…Nidhi Sadashiv, during those frustrating days. I thought being with someone else would help me get over my thoughts of Meera. Honestly, I just wanted to move on from her. But it didn't help at all."
"You had met her again after you confessed to us about it, didn't you?" Meera asked casually.
I was stunned to hear that. My glance at Meera ensured she noticed my reaction. She subtly gestured that she would explain later.
"Yeah, I had met her again," Desai admitted. "I felt bad when I realized that I cannot move on from you unless we talked things out. So, I met Nidhi… you know, to seek forgiveness. I thought her anger would make me feel better because she had every right to be angry. But she wasn't angry. In fact, she was very friendly. I didn't want to reveal this to Krish, but since we're talking about it – she was ready to see me again if I wanted. You know…"
I was stunned. Memories flashed in my head about Nidhi's excitement whenever Desai's name came up in our conversations, her subtle reactions, her arousal masked under casual remarks. She had indeed been excited, even aroused, by thoughts of Desai because of the pleasure he'd given her. So much so that she'd been willing to make love on the same bed where Desai had been with another woman.
 
For a moment, I wondered whether it was me or Desai – or maybe even the idea of Desai – that she was attracted to. I couldn't find an answer immediately. Perhaps I didn't want to. Maybe the fear of that answer was enough to shake my confidence.
 
The first round of drinks was over. Desai stood up. "I'll make another round."
As he walked to the kitchen, I turned to Meera.
“How did you know Desai had met Nidhi after that?”
“I had met her… two three times after Desai confessed what he did. She was kinda feeling softer about him. I mean every time I met him, she was feeling softer than previous time. Eventually I stopped meeting her.” Meera said.
“Why? You feared she will eventually fall for him?” I joked.
“Come on!” She laughed too. Then she added, “but I felt it’s not a good idea to make her remember him. My meetings with her were doing that, I guess.”
“Good to know you ladies were discussing Desai behind my back.” I said.
“I’ve done much worse behind your back.” She hit back.
I laughed, “Yeah.”
 
I suggested her to go to kitchen and help Desai.
"Why? You go and help him," Meera retorted.
"Come on," I insisted with a smirk. "He's your would-be, isn't he?"
Meera got up, walked over, and playfully pinched my cheek. "He's not my would-be, you rascal!"
She began to walk to the kitchen, but I grabbed her hand.
"Meera, you promised something. Don't play your games tonight. He came for you."
Meera stared at me for a moment, then nodded. "Yeah, I know."
I stood up, turned her to face me, and gently squeezed her shoulders, letting my gaze travel across her face and down her figure.
"Meera, tonight I'm the host. You and Desai are literally my guests. Got it?"
Meera's expression softened. "Got it."
 
After Meera went to the kitchen, I settled back on the couch, letting the comfort of the drink ease into me. From the kitchen, I soon heard the soft murmur of their voices, followed by bursts of giggles. It felt like the night was proceeding just as I had hoped.
A little later, Meera's laughter echoed louder, filling the apartment with a warmth I hadn't heard from her in days. When they returned to the hall with fresh drinks, I couldn't help but ask, "What's the joke?"
Meera, still chuckling, nudged Desai. "Go on, Susheel. Tell him."
Desai grinned, shaking his head slightly as if embarrassed, but indulged. "Well, it's about this one time long ago – I was at a supermarket, and I picked up a large cucumber. There was this woman nearby, and she gave me this… suspicious look. I kept glancing between her face and the cucumber, trying to figure out what was so amusing. Finally, out of sheer panic, I blurted out, 'I'm unmarried'."
Meera burst into laughter again, almost spilling her drink. "I still can't believe that actually happened! I bet you just made that up after spotting the extra-large cucumber in my kitchen." She said. "But it's hilarious to imagine you in that situation – especially considering how you think of yourself as… well, you know, well-endowed."
Desai gave her a smirk, "I think of myself as so? Just me only?"
Meera gave him a sheepish smile, and she averted her eyes to look around the room as if she didn't hear him.
"Tell me," Desai insisted.
"Yeah, me too. Romeo," Meera said and laughed again.
"Yeah, size matters," I quipped. "At least now you can admit that I am doing the right thing."
Meera made an angry face at me. "Moron. You are such a moron, you know that?"
"Don’t call him a moron. Please," Desai said, throwing a quick glance at me before continuing. "You know, I’ve always found his acceptance of the idea of being cuckolded remarkable. Of course, there must have been moments of struggle, but he never saw me as an enemy trying to creep into his bedroom."
"Really?" Meera’s eyes sparkled with mischief. "You wouldn’t say that if you remembered those days. Didn’t you try to trick him with fifty lakh rupees once?"
Desai chuckled, waving away the past. "That was the old me. Let’s talk about the new me."
Meera laughed. "Yeah, it’s the new you..." She paused, leaving the sentence hanging.
"Continue," Desai prompted, leaning closer. "You were about to praise me, weren’t you?"
"Haha," Meera laughed but didn’t elaborate. "You knew I was about to praise you. Isn’t that enough?"
"I think if you’re not going to tell me now, then you must be saving it for later... for a special moment."
A playful smile danced on Meera’s lips. She seemed to be deliberately holding back, her eyes flickering with glances that made me believe she was flirting.
"There won’t be any special moments tonight," she said softly.
"I didn’t come for any special moment," Desai countered.
"I doubt that," Meera replied quickly.
"Why?" Desai pressed.
"Never mind." Meera said. And then quickly added, "Well, I'd tell you it just won’t happen."
"Oh. Okay. Is there any specific reason?"
"Probably to hurt you."
"Must be a sadist."
"Won’t fall for it." She was smiling now.
"Come on, I can see you want to talk, honey."
Eventually, Meera spoke. "Because I know how you were on that day, after that... 39-day gap. And now, though it’s only been 23 days, you’ve already told me you missed me more than ever."
She was now looking straight into his eyes, as if trying to catch even the slightest reaction. Perhaps she wanted him to admit that he had become desperate for her, like hell.
 
I, watching from the side-lines, felt a strange mixture of emotions. No matter what they discussed, I sensed they were inevitably going to sleep together, going to have a wild reunion. I struggled to keep my mind from dwelling on the images of them waving me goodnight together. But I still found a sense of peace holding me back in my seat, rooted in the belief that it was all part of a decision I had made for Meera.
 
I laughed and then shook my head. "Well, I’m just glad to see you enjoying the night, Meera. You’ve had a rough time these past few days. It feels good to see you happy again."
She glanced at me briefly, her smile softening.
“Fun talks aside, let me ask you something, Meera. Are you still struggling to see me in your life?” Desai asked after a few moments.
Meera looked at him and took a deep breath before speaking.
"I agreed to see you, Desai," she began softly, "but I never said I was ready for commitment. You know, there are so many things that come with it. I’m not trying to set conditions, but I’m not in the right mental state to figure out what’s good or bad for me right now. Krish is leaving... and I don’t know how I’m going to cope with that. It’s one thing to imagine getting divorced, but it’s another thing to actually go through it."
She paused, her eyes flickering with the weight of her emotions.
"I don’t know how long I’ll cry. Even if you see me laughing or calm around you, inside, I’ll still be crying. I don’t have much control over myself these days. When Krish said we should separate, the only future I could imagine was one where I wouldn’t see another man after him. My love isn’t like a switch. I can’t just turn it off for him and turn it on for you."
She took another deep breath, her eyes meeting his with a vulnerability I had seen many times over the past few weeks.
"So, I want you to understand that it will take time for me to even consider looking at you that way. But yes," she added softly, "I’m committed to you, to accompanying you on the trip tomorrow."
Desai listened intently, nodding as if he had anticipated this, his expression gentle.
"I understand, Meera. Your stand doesn’t surprise me," he said. "I’ll always be a friend to you, and whatever comes beyond that will be a bonus. I’d love to hold your hand, but it doesn’t mean I want to drag you anywhere you don’t want to be. I’d rather hold your hand and be wherever you want us to be."
He paused, looking at her with deep sincerity.
"You’re a special person, Meera. Both you and Krish, actually. I wasn’t looking to settle down with anyone, but now... I just want to be grateful to you for what you’ve helped me become. There’s no one else in this world to whom I owe more gratitude than you. That’s what brings me back to you."
His voice softened, and for a moment, there was a distant longing in his eyes.
"And yes, even if it’s a distant possibility, I have to admit… if my heart beats for someone, I can’t ignore it. I have to admit that it beats for someone."
 
As Desai spoke, he slowly reached out and took Meera’s hand, bringing it gently to his lips. He smiled at her, pressing a soft kiss to the back of her palm. Meera smiled back, her hand remaining in his. There was a subtle shift in the air, and I could feel her beginning to soften toward him, her defences gradually melting.
I watched, amazed at how their conversation was unfolding. At the start, Meera had made it clear that there was no chance of them being together. But by the end, her gaze lingered on Desai more, her eye contact deepening, as if silently acknowledging the sincerity of his affection. It was clear to me now that, despite her words, something in her was responding to him.
 
Desai, despite his initial nervousness, was steadily making his moves, flirting with her in a way that felt both genuine and playful. Yet, as I observed them, I couldn't shake the feeling that Meera’s gestures – her small smiles and lingering glances – were still rooted in something else. A part of her was still reaching out to me, even in this moment with Desai.
I couldn’t help but feel that her lingering affection for me, in some twisted way, was arousing Desai. I knew he would want to pursue her feelings, take her to bed before the night ended, and fuck her hard. I even sensed that the sex – the pleasure he could give her – would draw her closer to him, and eventually, she would submit to him, just like before.
The thought hit me hard, and I got up from the couch, not wanting to stay in the moment any longer. I stumbled over to the music system and turned on a song in an attempt to settle my thoughts.
 
The rum cocktail made my head feel light, but it helped me maintain a semblance of self-control. It was strange, but in a way, it made things feel more bearable. I could sense that Meera was carrying on with the night as if a part of her was ready to let go, to release the tension between us. The separation, I thought, wouldn’t be as painful as I had expected. Perhaps, in the end, it would be easier than I had imagined.
 
Desai suggested we take some pictures, and we agreed. First, Desai and Meera posed together, and I took photos with Meera’s phone. I noticed Desai casually putting his arm around her waist. To be honest, they looked perfect as a couple. Despite being fifteen years older than her, Desai, with his perfectly fit physique and sharp dressing sense, matched her divine beauty with his masculine confidence.
Desai looked at Meera, admiration clear in his eyes. "You look stunning in this saree," he said. "It’s already on my list of your best looks."
Meera smiled, tilting her head slightly. "What about the dress you mentioned earlier? You said you brought something for me. I want to see it."
That caught my attention. "What dress?" I asked, glancing between them.
Meera turned to me. "While we were making that second drink, Desai told me he had brought a dress for me. But after seeing me in this saree, he decided against asking me to change."
I smirked. "Well, it took a lot of convincing to get her to wear this saree tonight." Then, looking at Desai, I added, "But now I’m curious – what dress did you bring?"
Meera nodded in agreement. "Yeah, let’s see it. Open your luggage."
Desai chuckled. "I’ll show you, but on one condition – you have to wear it."
Meera hesitated, then spoke with a fake seriousness. "I’m not putting on anything fancy. This is not your fantasy night."
Desai smirked. "You can trust me."
Meera let out a small laugh, shaking her head. "I’ll think about it."
 
When they finished posing for photos, Meera turned to me. "Come on, one with me."
I sighed but stepped forward. As soon as I stood next to her, she grabbed my hand and placed it around her waist. It was subtle, but Desai noticed. I caught the flicker of excitement in his eyes. It felt like he was savouring this moment – watching Meera and me together for one last time, knowing that by the end of the night, she would be his.
 
When we finished, Desai opened his suitcase. Inside, a neatly packed parcel took up nearly half the space. He pulled it out and handed it to Meera.
"I came across this on an online site," he said. "And immediately, you came to my mind."
Meera smirked as she took the package. "What exactly came to your mind?" she teased, carefully un-wrapping the dress.
It was a dark pink and white dress. Meera’s eyes widened slightly, and the way her fingers traced the fabric told me she loved the material.
She held it up against herself. "It’s an off-shoulder midi," she quickly pointed out.
I glanced at the dress. It certainly didn’t have the length to reach her ankles. Desai watched her reaction closely. "So? Will you wear it?" he asked.
Meera hesitated. "It’s beautiful, but… it’s going to be very exposing."
Desai leaned back, studying her. "And what exactly are you wary of?"
She glanced at me, as if looking for reassurance. I liked that she still wanted my opinion, even in this moment. I shrugged. "You have two choices—wear it now or wear it on your trip."
Meera looked at the dress again, then gave Desai a shy smile. "No, I wouldn’t want to do that."
She was talking about the trip. She clearly thought the dress was too revealing.
Then, almost as if looking for an escape, she sighed. "Besides, it’ll take too much effort to remove the saree."
I smirked. "I’m sure Desai would be more than happy to help."
Meera shot me a look. "It was actually him"—she pointed at me—"who helped me put it on."
I noticed Desai’s eyes widen slightly, curiosity flickering across his face. He had assumed Meera and I weren’t that intimate anymore. Maybe now he was rethinking that.
After a pause, Meera exhaled. "Okay. Give me fifteen minutes."
She turned toward the bedroom, but before proceeding, she grabbed a glass from the table and took a sip.
"That’s Desai’s glass," I pointed out.
Meera smirked. "Not anymore."
 
Desai watched her go, clearly entertained by her remark. I could tell he was enjoying the way she teased, the way she was slowly letting herself ease into the night.
As soon as she disappeared into the room, Desai turned to me. "What kind of help did you give her while she was wearing the saree?"
I took a sip of my drink before answering. "I helped her with the bra. Hooked it for her."
Desai burst out laughing, immediately catching on. "Bullshit."
I grinned, then leaned back. "By the way, you never told me how you met Nidhi. You mentioned it earlier."
Desai’s expression shifted slightly. "It was a long time ago, even before the concert night."
I raised an eyebrow. "And yet, you didn’t take advantage of the situation, knowing she might say yes?"
Desai exhaled. "That’s something that surprised me too. Nidhi is beautiful, no doubt. But she didn’t matter to me as much as my memories with Meera did. That was one of the moments I realized just how badly I wanted to get back to her."
I studied him for a moment. "So you were planning to come back to her, even after we shut you out of our lives?"
Desai nodded. "I just knew our paths would cross again. My only prayer was that, when they did, it would be worth cherishing."
I let his words settle in before speaking. "By ‘cherishing,’ do you mean having sex with Meera?"
Desai shook his head. "No. Honestly, I didn’t even think about that – at least, not until I got an opportunity that night at the concert. It just... happened. And when I realized she was within reach, I couldn’t control myself."
I looked at him, my voice steady. "You almost forced yourself on her that night."
Desai met my gaze. "You can say that. But I saw the struggle in her eyes. She might never admit it – not even to herself – but she needed a moment with me. Maybe for a closure. Because the moment we met that night, she knew exactly how much I had longed for her. It is impossible for someone to read another person’s mind if the latter was never on the former’s mind. And maybe, deep down, her subconscious mind had already prepared her to give in – just to free me from that longing." He let out a dry chuckle. "But it didn’t happen. That’s another thing."
I took a slow sip of my drink. "Maybe we never wanted that closure."
 
Before Desai could respond, the bedroom door creaked open.
Meera stepped out, wearing the dress.
It hugged her body perfectly, the fabric clinging to her curves in all the right places. The dark pink and white tones made her skin glow under the dim lights. The off-shoulder cut exposed her collarbones, her smooth skin, and the gentle slope of her shoulders. The dress ended well above her knees, revealing her toned legs, making her look both elegant and dangerously tempting.
Meera tucked her thumbs inside the top edge of the dress, just below her underarms, and tried to pull it up. Perhaps she feared it would slide down off her breasts. There was something in her expression – a mix of confidence and embarrassment, as if she knew exactly how stunning she looked but wasn’t sure how much of herself she was willing to reveal tonight.
 
Desai’s eyes darkened slightly as he welcomed, appreciation written all over his face.
I watched as Meera glanced at me for a fleeting second, then turned to Desai, biting her lower lip. "Well?" she asked.
Desai exhaled, a slow smile forming on his lips. "You look… breathtaking."
Though she appeared shy as she entered the hall, Meera didn’t settle down on the couch. Instead, she stood in front of us, smiling at us alternately, her fingers repeatedly tugging at the edge of her dress as if afraid it might slip. Each time she lifted both hands to adjust it, she unknowingly exposed the smooth curve of her armpits. That’s when I noticed that the back of the dress dipped even lower than I had realized, exposing a generous portion of her back.
She kept pulling the neckline up, a habit born more out of nervousness than necessity. Desai, watching her with amusement, reassured her, “It’s not going to fall off.”
Meera let out a small laugh. “I know… but I still can’t get that fear out of my head.”
Desai tilted his head. “So… do you like the dress?”
Meera pouted her lips playfully, then smiled. “Yes.”
 
She did love it. In all the years I had known her, I had never seen her wear something more revealing than this. Yet, hearing her admit how much she liked it made me wonder – had she secretly wished to wear something like this all along? If that was the case, then Desai certainly knew how to read her mind.
 
Desai grinned. “I’d love to click a few snaps with this hottie.” He handed me his phone, then turned to Meera.
As he approached her, she stood waiting, her body language open. Desai, on the other hand, moved naturally, his hand slipping around her waist as he pulled her close. With effortless ease, he maneuvered behind her, wrapping his arms around her more freely this time, holding her possessively as if she already belonged to him.
I clicked the photos as he guided her into different poses. “Look at me,” I heard him say. As Meera turned to meet his gaze, I couldn’t help but steal a glance at her round ass, the snug dress accentuating its curves perfectly.
 
Desai’s hands were exploratory yet measured – at first resting on her hips, then casually shifting lower to her love handles. I thought he might soon let his hands slide further, perhaps even over her ass cheeks, but he held back. Meera didn’t resist his touch, her body language giving him silent permission.
Then, Desai reached up, his fingers lightly touching her chin, turning her face toward him. He didn’t ask, but his eyes sought permission. Meera’s soft smile was all the answer he needed.
And I watched as he brought his lips to her cheek.
“It feels great to hold you, Meera,” I heard Desai whisper.
Meera smiled but didn’t say anything. As she glanced toward me, Desai gently touched her chin again, turning her face back to him.
“I can believe, can’t I?” he asked, his voice low.
Meera met his gaze. “I hope so.”
He looked deep into her eyes, and the space between them disappeared. His lips pressed softly into hers, slow and deliberate.
I forgot to click the photo.
My heartbeat quickened. I had fully expected this, yet watching it unfold in front of me made me question whether I was truly ready for it.
 
This time, it was different. Every time she had been in the arms of another man, she had always come back to me. But now, I had set the rule myself – she wasn’t coming back. The quick kiss she shared with Desai was more than just a touch of lips; it was the first undeniable sign that things had changed.
“Will you dance with me?” Desai asked.
Meera looked at him amusingly. “Dance?”
I, too, was surprised. Desai was not a great dancer, and I doubted he had suddenly picked up the skill. But what intrigued me more was his insistence on making her dance in this dress.
He grabbed the remote and flipped through the songs until he found a peppy number, turning up the volume. The moment I recognized the track, my suspicion solidified. It was the same song I had danced to with Meera at Ritu’s wedding – while Desai had watched from the side-lines. He had chosen it deliberately, making sure I knew that he remembered that night, that moment of jealousy he had swallowed.
As he returned to Meera, she extended her hands to him, locking her eyes onto his. She started with slow, graceful steps, guiding him. Desai tried to match her, laughing at himself as he failed miserably.
“Oh, I can’t,” he chuckled.
“No, you’re learning,” Meera encouraged him, her voice playful.
He kept trying, his hands still clasping hers, as she moved gracefully to the beat. I couldn’t help but stare – her breasts bounced with each motion, straining against the snug fabric. I feared, just for a second, that they might spill out. Meera must have felt the same because she adjusted the neckline a couple of times at first. But as the song progressed, her confidence grew, and she let go of her hesitation, moving freely with the rhythm.
 
When the song ended, Desai turned to me. “Your turn.”
I shook my head. “Me? Come on. You two are doing fine.”
“Come on, Krish. Dance with me,” Meera said, her voice softer.
I hesitated, but her eyes held a quiet invitation. I couldn’t refuse.
Getting up, I joined her. The next song was slower, more intimate. Meera slid her left arm under my right, and we swayed sideways at first, then turned to face each other. She held my forearm before shifting her grip to my hands.
I felt we were getting closer than we should have, but Meera wasn’t pulling away. Her eyes, her smile, the warmth of her touch – she wanted this moment with me, perhaps one last time.
 
As we moved in sync, her breath brushed my face. More than once, I felt the soft press of her breasts against my chest. The dress had a strapless padded bra inside, pushing her curves up, making them more pronounced, more tempting. The heat between us was undeniable.
The dance was fun, but with every step, I felt the weight of what was coming. The closer I held her, the harder it became to ignore the pain of letting go. More than once, I wanted to pull her into my arms, kiss her, and forget everything else. A part of me even thought of stopping it all, telling her I couldn’t let her go.
But before the feeling could take over, the song ended – just in time.
We stepped back, breathing heavily.
“That was…” I exhaled, forcing a smile. “That was great.”
 
"You're tired?" Meera asked, surprised. She looked like she wanted to keep dancing, and I knew the drink was getting to her. She was finally letting go, fully enjoying the night.
I went back to my seat, and Desai joined her again. Meera told him to take off his suit and dance in just his shirt. He did as she suggested, and this time, he moved better, more confident, more expressive. Their hands strayed beyond just holding each other. Desai's fingers brushed her belly, and soon he was holding her midriff with ease. Meera’s breasts bounced more freely now that she wasn’t worried about the dress slipping. As she moved, I saw Desai's hands grazing her navel, touching her in ways that felt more intimate.
As the song neared its end, Desai stopped dancing but pulled Meera into a hug. She stood there, panting, as if surrendering to his touch. Then he leaned in and kissed her lips. Meera hesitated at first, almost pulling back, but when Desai whispered, "Please," she gave in.
This time, it wasn’t a quick kiss. I watched Desai's jaw move, his mouth opening as he sucked on her lips, taking them completely into his own. His arms tightened around her waist, holding her firmly. Meera didn’t resist. She let it happen – embracing the night for what it was.
The kiss lasted until the song naturally came to an end.
 
Desai looked at her with soft eyes, a smile forming on his lips. Meera smiled back, her gaze warm, as if lost in the moment.
"Thank you for teaching me how to dance, Meera, wow." Desai said, gently leading her back to the couch. They sat side by side, the space between them now gone. I noticed how Desai casually wrapped his left arm around her.
 
The dancing had loosened the neatness of Meera’s dress. Her exposed breasts rose and fell as she panted, but she didn’t seem to care. She simply picked up her drink and took a sip. Her long, delicate hands, the smooth, fully exposed curve of her neck, and the sensual beauty of her cleavage all blended into a striking picture. Desai’s arm tightened around her waist, his hand resting on her belly, his fingers lightly brushing her soft skin through the thin fabric. It was a gentle touch, but there was something possessive in the way he held her, his hand cupping the side of her belly.
 
“I’ve thought about you every single day, Meera,” Desai said quietly, his voice thick with longing. “The memories of our moments together... they’ve been making me miss you so much. And when you blocked my number… it hurt. I kept waiting, hoping you’d reach out, that I’d hear your voice. Every time the phone rang, I felt a rush, thinking it might be you. And when it wasn’t… it felt empty. It’s been hard, Meera.”
He paused, his eyes searching her face for understanding. His hand remained on her belly, his fingers resting there as if drawing comfort from her warmth.
“It’s not just about wanting you. It’s about... needing you. To hear you, to feel you close again. But I wasn’t going to say any of this. I only spoke because I’ve been given this moment. And I realize now – I’ve been waiting for this all along.”
 
As Desai poured his heart out, Meera looked at him with tenderness, her gaze full of understanding. Slowly, her fingers reached up to caress his face, tracing the line of his jaw. The softness of her touch, the way she looked at him, made me wonder – would she pull him in and kiss him? Or would he lean forward and claim her lips again?
But Desai seemed content with just her touch. He sat there, smiling at her, as if her face alone was enough.
 
With every moment they spent together like this, I became more convinced that I had made the right decision. Meera is going to find peace with him, I thought. Desai had the ability to make her melt, to show her how much he desired her.
Our second drink was nearly finished after just a few sips. Meera, now a little tipsy, wasn’t too eager for a third.
"This drink... this drink is strong. Like really, really strong," she said, looking at Desai.
Desai looked at me. "But we can have one more, can’t we?" he suggested. I quickly agreed.
 
This time, when Desai went to the kitchen to make the drinks, I followed him, carrying all three glasses.
He grabbed the cocktail shaker and added three ounces of white rum, lime juice, and simple syrup. I handed him the ice cubes, and he shook the mixture vigorously for about 10–15 seconds. Then, he strained it into our glasses, fine-straining for a smoother texture, and garnished each with strawberry pieces and a bit of peppermint. He repeated the process for the other two glasses, carefully balancing the ingredients.
I did a quick mental calculation of how much white rum we’d already consumed. No wonder Meera got tipsy so quickly.
Desai mentioned he had learned to make this cocktail from a friend during his recent trip to Arunachal Pradesh.
"A female friend?" I asked.
He chuckled. "No, a male friend. Great taste in music. Runs a restro-bar."
Since Meera wasn’t around, I decided to ask him how he felt about the night.
Desai sighed. "I’m still trying to believe it’s real. It feels like a dream to have Meera in my arms again. I’ve dreamt of holding her, kissing her, and taking her to bed – but knowing she won’t be leaving me in the morning... that’s beyond anything I ever imagined."
I was astonished by the depth of his feelings for Meera. No matter how she had unconsciously stirred my emotions, no matter how I had secretly entertained fleeting dreams of being with her again, everything changed at that moment. As I looked into Desai’s eyes and saw his raw desire for Meera, I became more certain than ever – I was right to push her toward him.
"You’ll have her tonight, Desai. And beyond that, I see that you deserve her by your side. In the morning, she won’t be coming back to me."
Desai nodded, his eyes softening.
"I can’t tell you how grateful I am, Krish," he said, stepping forward and hugging me. I was caught off guard by the gesture. It was brief, and he quickly pulled back, his face thoughtful.
"But at the same time, I don’t know how to express what I feel about you. I know you still love her. This must be harder than anything I can imagine. I don’t know what – "
"You don’t have to think too much about me now," I cut him off. "Focus on winning her over. She’s still not completely into you."
"At least she’s agreed to come with me. That means I can hope."
"Yeah," I replied, my voice flat.
"When was the last time you two were intimate?" Desai asked as he finished filling the glasses.
"Two days before you met her at Alpine Heights," I answered.
 
Before he could respond, we heard Meera’s voice from the hall.
"Aren’t you two coming back?"
Desai and I exchanged smiles and carried the drinks back. Meera was waiting eagerly, sitting on the couch with one leg crossed over the other. The way she sat showed off the perfect shape of her thick thighs.
"What were you guys doing in the kitchen? Talking too much," she said, frowning playfully.
"I was asking Krish when was the last time you two made love," Desai said casually.
Meera raised an eyebrow and, in a quiet voice, said, "Oh, it was yesterday."
I stared at her, stunned.
"What?"
Desai looked at her, then at me.
I kept my eyes locked on Meera.
She smirked. "It was a dream."
I laughed, feeling a wave of relief.
"A dream!"
"Wow, a dream," Desai said, settling next to her. "How did it go? Did he make you come?" he asked, teasing her.
"Yeah, he did," Meera said, flashing a naughty smile. "In fact, when I woke up in the morning, I was surprised to find that the orgasm was real."
I was stunned again. She had not only dreamed of having sex with me but also claimed to have experienced a real orgasm from it. I wasn’t sure if she was telling the truth, but she didn’t look like she was lying. She was staring straight into Desai’s eyes, and he believed her. So, I had to believe her too.
"Probably, you're craving warmth," Desai said softly, keeping his gaze on her.
Meera didn’t break eye contact.
"Probably, yes," she whispered.
"Then I hope to turn this night into something with a lot of warmth." Desai said.
Meera stared at him, then broke into a full smile. She looked down, biting her lip, aware of the dirty talk that had just slipped from her. I couldn't help but wonder if, in that moment, she was already picturing herself in his bed, letting him take her with the kind of freedom she might have dreamt of.
I couldn’t watch them any longer and averted my eyes.
 
"Probably you're craving for warmth," Desai said softly, maintaining eye contact.
Meera didn’t break the gaze either.
"Probably, yes," she whispered.
"I would, hopefully, turn this night into something with a lot of warmth," Desai said.
Meera stared at him, and then broke into a full smile. She looked down, biting her lip, aware of the dirty talk that had just slipped from her. I couldn't help but wonder if, in that moment, she was already picturing herself lying in his bed, spreading her legs for him, taking in his thick, monstrous manhood with the kind of reckless freedom she might have only dared to dream of.
I couldn’t watch them any longer and averted my eyes.
 
As Meera took another sip, I noticed she downed a quarter of her drink in one go. It felt like she was leaning on the alcohol to steady herself for what lay ahead. If I was right, she was preparing herself to take in all of Desai’s love tonight. Maybe she knew the next few days would be filled with pain, loss, and tears.
Desai excused himself to use the washroom, leaving Meera and me alone in the hall.
"You didn't tell me about the dream," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "Did it really happen?"
"Why do you care?" Meera looked at me, her tone sharp. "What difference would it have made if I had told you?"
"Nothing," I replied, still caught off guard by her words.
Meera stood up and walked toward me. She had to pause for a moment to steady herself. Then, she adjusted the edge of her dress over her breasts, making me aware of their fullness without meaning to.
"Not that you wanted to be a part of it?" she teased, leaning closer. For a second, I thought she might trip, but she didn’t. Before I could react, she cupped my face with both hands and pressed her lips against mine.
The warmth of her kiss hit me hard, both physically and mentally. She was kissing me.
"Mmm... Meera!" I murmured, gently pushing her away. My hands were careful, not wanting to hurt her.
She straightened up, licking her lips as she smiled at me.
"Yummy!" she giggled.
"Meera, please," I said, taking a deep breath.
"What?" she asked, her voice slightly unsteady.
I could tell the alcohol had lowered her inhibitions. I thought about how she had gulped that large sip earlier, and I remembered how Desai had mixed the drinks. Three ounces of white rum in one cocktail… That meant she had already consumed seven or eight ounces.
"Meera, you’re drunk," I warned. "What are you doing? We've already talked about this, and we've made our decisions."
"Yeah, I know." Meera raised her hand as if to stop me and continued. "I know I'm done chasing you, done trying to make amends. It's time I…"
She froze mid-sentence, her words trailing off as she saw Desai walking back into the room.
 
"Am I interrupting you guys?" Desai asked in a pleasant voice.
"No," Meera replied, turning slightly toward him but keeping her eyes on me for a moment longer. Then, she looked at him directly. "I was just telling him I’m done resisting you. There’s no point in that anymore, right? It’s time I stop and really look at you – to see where your heart is."
Desai took a step closer, and Meera reached out, letting her fingers wrap around his. He held her hand firmly, his thumb slowly brushing against her skin.
"Have I been rude to you, Susheel?" she asked, her voice softer now, more intimate.
Desai met her gaze. "I can’t tell. Even if you were, I wouldn’t be offended."
"Because you’ve become blind," Meera whispered, closing the distance between them. Her fingers lifted, trailing from his forehead down to his nose, then to his lips and chin. She traced his features as if memorizing them, her touch slow and deliberate.
"Kiss me, Susheel," she whispered. "I want to feel loved."
Her words hung in the air, thick with longing. I felt their weight settle deep in my chest. My heart pounded. This was it. Meera had finally made her choice.
And Desai seized the opportunity without hesitation. His lips crushed against hers, his arms wrapping around her, holding her as if she might slip away if he didn’t. It wasn’t just a kiss – it was possession, it was hunger. The sound of their lips meeting filled the room, blending with the heavy pounding in my ears.
Meera responded instantly, her jaw shifting, welcoming him, and giving herself over to the moment. I watched as his tongue slipped between her lips, exploring her mouth, and she matched him, pulling him in deeper. She wasn’t holding back – she wanted this just as much as he did.
I sat frozen, watching them drown in each other. Their kiss became more intense, their bodies pressing together as if trying to mould into one.
Desai’s hands roamed over her body, mapping her curves. At first, his touch was careful – his fingers pressing into the small of her back, testing, teasing. But that restraint didn’t last long. His palms travelled lower, grabbing her ass through the thin fabric of her dress, pulling her against him.
I saw the exact moment he made her feel him. The moment his waist pushed against hers, letting her know exactly how hard he had become for her. Meera’s arms moved between them, pressing into his chest. For a split second, I thought she might push him away.
But she didn’t.

to be continued..