09-02-2025, 03:28 PM
Chapter 51 continues.
Instead, she gripped his shirt and pulled him closer, urging him to grind into her more. Her fingers curled into the fabric, holding onto him as if bracing herself for what was to come.
Desai groaned into her mouth, his lips leaving hers only to travel down her neck. He sucked on her skin, his teeth grazing her flesh just enough to make her gasp. She tilted her chin back, giving him full access, surrendering completely.
Meera arched into him, her body curving with need, pressing herself deeper into his embrace. And in that moment, I knew. The deal was sealed. There was no turning back.
I was lost in the moment, but to be honest, I hated every second of it. My eyes burned as I watched them, yet I couldn’t look away. I tried, but my lips still carried the taste of hers – the warmth, the softness, and the way she had pressed against me just moments ago. It wasn’t just the kiss. It was how she had reached for me, how her body leaned into mine. Had she really wanted Desai all along, or was this just her way of proving something after I pushed her away?
The more I thought about it, the more it felt like she was being pulled toward me, not him. The way she looked at me when she spoke about her dream. The teasing smile on her lips. The way she had come so close before she kissed me. And now, she was doing the same with him – but it felt different. It felt like she was reacting to what had happened between us. Like she was trying to erase whatever she had felt with me by giving herself to Desai.
I remembered something Desai had told me long ago.
A cuckold becomes the winner when he forgives his wife and accepts her back after she's been fucked by another man.
I clenched my jaw as the weight of his words settled over me. Meera had given me every sign tonight – signs that she wanted to return, that she was waiting for me to stop her. But I hadn’t. I had let her go. I had pushed her into Desai’s arms, thinking that was what she needed, what I needed.
And now, she had surrendered completely.
Not just to Desai’s touch, but to the fate I had written for her.
For all her inner struggles, for all the times she had resisted, she had finally given in – to Desai’s hunger, to my decision, to the reality that there was no turning back now. And that realization burned through me more than anything else.
The room felt heavier than the silence that had settled between us. I stood frozen, my breath caught in my throat, watching Meera and Desai as though they existed in a world just beyond my reach – close enough to see, but impossible to touch. They were inches apart, their faces tilted toward each other, and then, without hesitation, Desai closed the distance. His lips met hers in a kiss that was unhurried, deliberate, as if he wanted to carve every second into memory. Meera responded, her hands resting lightly on his chest, her lips pressing into his with a quiet surrender.
The kiss broke soon, but the air between them remained charged.
Desai exhaled, as if steadying himself, then reached into his pocket and pulled out something small and velvety. He flipped open the box, revealing a thin necklace, its whitish-grey colour glinting in the light, with a heart-shaped pendant.
"I think this is the moment," he murmured. "I know it’s too soon to propose – I know you wouldn’t fall for that. But I can’t stop myself from asking you to wear this. Please accept it, Meera."
Meera stared at him, as if her world had come to a standstill. Her eyes didn’t even glance at the necklace for a second.
"I would have said no if you had proposed," she said slowly. "Yes, it’s too soon."
Desai put the empty box back into his pocket and held the necklace with both hands, lifting it up in front of her.
"Take it as a gift," he urged. "I’d love to see you wearing it."
Meera nodded slowly. "Okay."
She extended her hand.
"Allow me to put it on you," Desai said, gently raising the necklace to her neck. Meera hesitated, looking at him.
"But it doesn’t mean anything, deal?"
"Deal."
Meera lowered her hands and tilted her chin, exposing her neck to him.
She smiled. "I’ve lived a lot of fantasies with Krish. Now it’s time to live yours," she said, still smiling.
Desai placed the necklace around her neck and struggled for a moment to fasten the hook behind her head. Meera remained calm, standing still until he finished. Once done, Desai kissed her again – this time shorter, but with a touch of gratitude.
Desai stepped back to admire her. She was a mess – her dress slightly wrinkled, its fabric clinging to her in places. Yet the pendant rested low, nearly vanishing into her deep cleavage, drawing attention effortlessly and adding to the sultry aura she already carried.
"It’s beautiful. And you look stunning, Meera," Desai said.
Meera glanced at the necklace, and then smiled at him. "It’s beautiful."
Desai took both of her hands and pulled her closer.
"You’re beautiful, baby. I can’t wait."
Meera saw what was coming and laughed. "You’ll have to wait, Susheel. You..."
Meera paused as Desai smiled at her understandably and held her hand. He then led her back to the couch, his arm steadying her as she swayed slightly. Once she sat down, he turned to me.
"Sorry, Krish," he said with a chuckle. "Guess I got carried away in the excitement."
Meera leaned back against the couch, rubbing her temples. "I feel overly drunk. I can't drink anymore."
I took another sip of my drink, rolling the taste over my tongue before swallowing. "The drink is good," I admitted. "That sweet and citrus taste mixed with the bitterness of the rum – it’s hard to tell just how much alcohol is in one glass."
Desai grinned. "That’s because I made it to taste its best."
Meera let out a small laugh, tilting her head toward him. "Ah, now I see your real intentions."
Desai raised an eyebrow. "And what would that be?"
"You want the night to be wild," she said, her lips curving into a knowing smirk.
Desai didn't hesitate. "I do. I want the night to be wild – with all of us enjoying."
I let out a dry laugh. "So far, it looks like only two people are enjoying it to the fullest."
Meera shot me a sharp look, a teasing glint in her eyes. "Well, you deserve to sit and stare." She tilted her head, her voice laced with mockery. "Because you’re a heartless man."
Desai leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "I have no plans to leave Krish out of the fun tonight," he said with a grin.
I narrowed my eyes and dared to joke. "I hope you’re not planning a threesome."
Meera made an angry face at me, while Desai burst into laughter.
"He’s got new ideas worth trying,” Desai teased.
Meera turned her head sharply to look at him, her eyes questioning.
Desai laughed even harder at her reaction, shaking his head. "Relax, baby. I’m just messing with you."
Meera rolled her eyes. “Thank God, I’m breaking up with him before it’s too late.”
After a moment of silence between us, Meera slowly spoke more. And she spoke to me.
“It’s not that I wanted to change you, Krish. But I’ve always hoped to see you stand up for what you initiate. You made me sleep with other men, allowed me to play with my emotions, and then you began experimenting with it. I knew I would falter, but instead of hiding in the background, watching where I was heading, I would’ve preferred for you to be a part of it—guide me, bring me back when I lost my way. I've never attached myself to anyone the way I have with you. But with Susheel, you pushed me too far. The threat of leaving me—it was too much. At one point, I even thought it was just a game between the two of you. But when I realized it was real, I prayed that it was just a game."
Meera said, and I nodded in agreement. I couldn’t have put it any better myself. But deep down, I knew it was too late to correct myself.
Both Desai's and my drinks were nearly finished, so we decided to empty our glasses. Meera, however, shook her head. "I don't want to pass out," she said.
Desai smirked. "Then Krish and I will share your drink."
Meera's eyes widened. "You've learned a lot of silly stuff from Krish. I warn you – don't do it."
But Desai ignored her warning, took her glass, and poured the remaining drink equally into ours. We clinked the bottoms of our glasses together before finishing it in one go.
He then turned to Meera on an afterthought. “A few minutes ago, you said you’re not attached to anyone. Does that mean it’s going to be tough for me?” He asked.
“You know how tough I can be, Susheel.” Meera said. “But you’re a tough guy too. I agreed to Krish’s demand to come with you because of that—you can withstand heartbreak.”
“I won’t let you break my heart.”
“I want to believe that, Romeo.”
After that, we proceeded to have dinner. Desai mentioned that he only needed a light meal.
Meera smirked. "Preserving your energy for the night?" she teased.
Desai raised an eyebrow. "Shouldn’t I?"
Meera flushed at his direct tease. "Mmm… tell me," he pressed, leaning slightly toward her.
Meera turned away with a shy smile. "Shut up," she muttered.
I watched them, and Meera noticed. She gestured for me to eat, so we all focused on our plates. None of us ate much, and dinner ended quickly.
Afterward, we returned to the hall. Meera started toward the room. "I need to change," she said.
Desai stopped her with a soft, "Please… keep it."
Meera stared at him for a few seconds, as if processing his words. Then, I saw it – the flicker of understanding in her eyes. I understood it too.
Desai wanted her to step into his bedroom in the same dress. He wanted to welcome her like this – just as she was – into his bed and into his life.
I realized then that this night wasn’t about the union of two souls – it was purely about the union of two bodies. Desai hardly made an effort to talk about anything meaningful; he was more focused on teasing, turning every moment into a game of seduction. It was as if he believed that sleeping with Meera tonight was necessary, that taking her to bed and claiming her there was the best way forward.
In a way, he had his reasons to think so. After all, the version of Meera he longed for – the one he truly connected with – was the one he had found in moments of intimacy. Perhaps Desai had come with a plan. A plan to take her to bed, to drown her in the pleasure he knew he could give, and at the right moment, claim not just her body, but her heart.
I was sure Meera wouldn’t be able to say no to him.
I wondered what his ultimate wish for the night was. To make Meera say yes to his proposal? Earlier, he had spotted a moment to propose but had held back, admitting it was too soon. Maybe he was waiting for the perfect moment.
And that moment would come tonight.
The more I thought about it, the more I started to believe it.
Meera had come back to the hall but then hesitated for a moment. "I am feeling heavy...my head like a mess," She said. "I think having some soup would help."
She looked at both of us. "Who else wants some?"
Desai and I exchanged glances.
"Okay, I’ll have some," I said.
Desai shook his head sideways, "No thanks, baby."
She nodded and walked away, both me and Desai watching the soft sway of her hips.
As soon as she disappeared into the kitchen, Desai leaned toward me, lowering his voice.
"She’s making sure she walks into my bed with a clear mind."
I noticed how Desai spoke like it was now a certainty that Meera would sleep with him. I let out a short breath. "Good for you."
Desai smirked, but then he looked at me carefully, as if noticing something beneath my calm tone.
"You okay?" he asked.
I wasn’t.
I threw a glance toward the kitchen before speaking. "No, I’m not."
Desai waited, giving me the space to continue. I didn’t look at him when I spoke, but I knew he was listening.
"I still love her, Desai." I admitted. "But I’m still pushing her toward you. Not because I want to. But because I have to."
Desai stayed quiet.
"If I stay with her, I’ll only ruin her," I continued. "I know what kind of man I am, Desai. I’ve come to terms with it. I’ll end up making her sleep with other men, whether she wants it or not, because… that’s how I am." I swallowed hard. "But with you, it’s different. I’ve seen it. She has chemistry with you. A real one. And I think you deserve to be her lifelong companion."
Desai still didn’t say anything, but I could sense he was absorbing every word.
"She’s told me, and I’ve seen it myself," I went on. "When she’s with you, she forgets everything else. I mean in bed. And let’s be real – bedroom is the foundation of marriage. Everything else – money, power, job, society – it all comes after that. Maybe someday she’ll find someone even better than you, Desai. But I’m not worried about that. I’m only worried about making sure she moves on from me."
I exhaled, feeling lighter after saying it out loud. "That’s why I’m pushing her to you. It’s up to you to make it or break it. But tonight, she’s all yours."
Desai finally spoke. "Krish… this is the ultimate sacrifice." He paused. "But I’m not a fool. I don’t believe she’ll just choose me over you overnight."
I gave a short, dry chuckle. "It’s not overnight. It’s been a long road to get here. Fights, arguments, resistance – Meera has pushed back every step of the way. We didn’t reach this point just like that. It’s been a long battle."
Desai nodded. "I know." He took a deep breath, then looked at me again. "But I still need your help."
I turned to him, frowning slightly. "Help for what?"
Desai hesitated, then spoke carefully. "To make her move on from you completely."
I narrowed my eyes. "And what exactly do you mean by that?"
He gave me a look. "Krish, don’t take this the wrong way. But the best way to do that… is to remind her that your cuckold nature is still in you."
I froze. My fingers tightened around my glass.
I turned to him slowly. "What the hell are you saying?"
Desai sighed, leaning back. "You have to watch. Become a part of... "
"No. I can’t." I didn't let him finish. "I don’t want to."
Before Desai could respond, we heard the sound of footsteps – slow, slightly uneven.
Meera walked in, carrying two bowls of soup, her movements just a little too careful, like she was trying to mask the sway in her steps.
Both of us straightened immediately, dropping the conversation.
She looked between us as she handed me a bowl. "What were you two talking about?"
"Nothing," Desai said smoothly.
I took a sip from my soup in silence, my mind still stuck on his words.
"You guys are acting weird," Meera muttered, sitting down with Desai.
Desai smiled at her. "Just men talk, baby."
She rolled her eyes and started sipping her soup, unaware of the silent battle happening between us.
And as I stared down at my soup, I realized something.
Desai wasn’t just planning to take Meera to bed tonight.
He was planning to claim her.
As Meera and I sipped our soup, Desai asked her what kind it was. She said it was a corn soup. “Quick to make.” she added.
Desai nodded. “I can smell the aroma,” he said, then smirked. “Would you share?”
Meera scoffed. “Oh, now you want some?”
Desai leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper. “If you don’t, I’ll just have to steal it from your mouth. Literally.”
Meera shot him a serious stare but then, unable to hold it, a playful smile curled on her lips. She scooped some soup onto a spoon, blew gently to cool it, and brought it to Desai’s lips. He took in the whole spoonful, swallowing without hesitation.
“It’s good,” he said.
Meera shrugged. “It’s just from a ready-made pack. Nothing special.”
Desai shook his head. “No, it tastes better somehow. I don’t know why.”
Meera narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously, then took another spoonful for herself. Something clicked in her mind. She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, the hint of realization dawning in her expression.
I watched on as they continued sharing the same spoon, drinking from the same bowl, their subtle playfulness filling the air between them.
I casually asked him about the flight details for next day.
“I was about to tell you.” Desai leaned back in his chair he looked at Meera with a quiet intensity. “I told my parents that a true gift is waiting for them next week,” he said.
Meera blinked, “What do you mean?”
“I’m not taking you to the resort first,” Desai said. “I’m taking you home. To my parents.”
His words surprised both me and Meera. He had told me that he was going to take Meera for a week-long trip to bamboo resort.
Desai went on, “I want you to meet them first, Meera. I don’t want this to feel like a getaway. I want it to feel real. You should meet them, understand where I come from, and then decide if you still want to go to the resort.”
Meera kept the soup bowl back on the centre table. For a long moment, she didn’t say anything. But I saw the shift in her eyes; as if the wall she kept up against Desai was collapsing. She looked straight and I saw her eyes becoming wet. She lowered her eye slowly, shaking her head, and then to our surprise, she covered her face with hands and let out a soft sob.
Desai was unsure, reflecting my own reaction.
“Meera?” he called.
Meera looked up, and her lips quivered. “I was awful to you,” she turned to him. “Especially after that day at Alpine Heights. I was rude to you… I… I thought I knew exactly where my heart stood. But maybe I didn’t.”
Desai's face softened, “Meera, you don’t…”
She didn’t let him finish. She reached for him, cupping his face with both hands, and pressed her lips to his.
It wasn’t hurried, wasn’t desperate. It was deliberate. A moment of surrender, of acceptance.
I watched from the side, witnessing the rare moment of Meera letting herself lean into Desai, and slowly, perhaps, her heart truly begin to shift towards him.
She picked up the soup again and took a spoonful to her mouth. It was nearly finished. She then offered the last spoonful to Desai.
Desai took it and smiled at her.
“I wish you’d say you love me, at least now,” Desai blurted. “If you can’t, then at least spit into my mouth.”
“What?” Meera looked at him, surprised. “That’s an awful thing to suggest.”
“I thought it was a gesture,” Desai said.
“It wasn’t a gesture of love. It was…” She stole a glance at my face before continuing. “It’s just some ultimate kinky stuff Krish taught me. It has psychological value in our heads, but I’m not emotionally attached to it. I don’t want to spit into someone’s mouth to say I love them.” She pulled a face, then let out a laugh at the absurdity of it. “How awful to think like that.”
Desai laughed, then said, “But I loved the taste. Never mind.”
“I will never spit into your mouth,” Meera said, looking at him. “You’ll have to find another kink if that’s what you want.”
And now, she was full of smiles.
As the soup finished, I volunteered to take the bowls to the kitchen. After that, I made a quick visit to the washroom as well.
When I returned, I saw them sitting closer, Desai’s arm dbangd around her. They were deep in conversation, and Meera was gushing – her eyes bright, her smile effortless. I stopped at the door, choosing not to enter the hall.
I watched as Meera shook her head, murmuring a soft "no," though there was no real resistance in her tone. She raised a hand in emphasis, her fingers moving in a way I couldn’t quite decipher. Desai caught that hand, holding it for a moment before letting it go. Instead, he gently turned her face toward him – and kissed her.
At first, it was Desai kissing her, but within seconds, Meera leaned in, pressing her lips back against his with unmistakable intent. From where I stood, half-hidden inside the bedroom doorway, I saw Desai’s right hand glide from her face down to her neck, then lower, tracing slow circles around her left breast. Meera didn’t flinch, didn’t stop him. And in that moment, I knew – she was ready to welcome him.
Then, as their lips parted, Desai saw me. Though he didn’t startle, he slowly withdrew his hand from her chest. His eyes met mine.
"Come, Krish. We're just talking," he said casually.
I exhaled. "I think it's time to sleep."
Desai smirked. "Come on, Meera is still sloppy."
Meera elbowed him lightly in the stomach. "Ouch!" he groaned.
"Who is sloshy…?" she mumbled, then quickly corrected herself. "Sloppy."
Desai chuckled. "Your kiss was very sloppy. Your tongue was sloppy. I don’t want to take you to bed yet."
Meera jabbed him again, this time with the back of her elbow.
I walked into the hall and sat on my couch while they continued their playful banter.
"What’s wrong with my tongue being sloppy?" Meera asked, narrowing her eyes.
"I like your tongue sharp always," Desai teased. "Especially in bed."
Meera scoffed, then wrapped both hands around his neck, pretending to choke him. "You pervert!"
Desai laughed, still not looking at me, as he playfully struggled to free himself. "Krish, looks like you're going to end up watching us make love right here. This lady is too hot and aggressive to resist."
And before she could react, he suddenly pulled her closer, leaning back. Meera lost her balance and fell on top of him. Desai wrapped an arm around her neck, pulling her face dangerously close to his.
From where I sat, all I could see was Meera’s round ass and the smooth curve of her legs. I didn’t know if they kissed again – but I was sure Desai wouldn’t have let the moment slip.
But my doubt was quickly erased as Meera continued to stay on top of him, Desai’s arm wrapping around her hip. His right hand soon reached back to caress her ass – though it looked more like an attempt to steady her from slipping off.
"Leave me! I'll spit on you, you moron," Meera warned, narrowing her eyes.
Desai grinned. "You're welcome to spit into my mouth."
Meera scoffed. "I’ll spit on your face."
Desai smirked. "You can do whatever you want to me."
Meera lifted her fist and playfully thumped his chest. "Desai…" she muttered in a tone that was half-warning, half-laugh.
And in the next second, with a quick push of his right foot against the floor, Desai twisted her whole body to the left, making her fall onto the couch beside him. In one swift stroke, he had her lying next to him – though he himself didn’t have enough space to stretch out properly.
In the brief struggle, his right hand brushed firmly against the top edge of her dress, and in an instant, the fabric slipped down.
Suddenly, her left breast was fully exposed.
I was stunned.
"Hey!" Meera yelped.
Desai quickly apologized and tried to pull the edge of her dress back up, but it wasn’t easy. His fingers fumbled against the fabric, and in the process, he ended up brushing against her breast a couple of times.
"What are you doing? Get off me!" Meera snapped, as is his touch burnt her.
Desai immediately pulled back and sat up. Meera did the same, her face turning toward me in embarrassment. Avoiding my gaze, she hastily pulled her dress up, struggling for a moment before finally managing to cover herself.
I said, "Guys, I think you’re ready. At least I should leave you alone."
But Desai shook his head. "No, bro. Please, stay."
Meera shot him a warning look. "But stop doing this."
Desai smirked. "Who started this?"
Meera didn’t answer. Instead, she turned to me. "Please, Krish, let’s call it a day."
Her words – though meant to make Desai behave – hit me like thunder. She had told me to call it a day. In other words, she wanted me to go to my room. Hadn’t she just made her choice clear? Hadn’t she chosen her partner?
My heart sank, no matter how much I had tried to convince myself that I was prepared for this moment.
Desai said, "Babe, let him stay. He’s part of our love story."
Meera stared at him. "What do you mean?"
Desai looked her in the eyes. "It’s the last time he’ll get the chance to fulfil his long-standing wish."
Meera frowned. "What wish?"
Desai held her gaze and said, "To watch us."
Meera’s reaction was instant. "No." She turned to me. "Krish..."
Desai also turned to me. "Krish, say yes."
I could see the request in his eyes. Both of them were staring at me, waiting for my response. And I said, "No, I don’t want to watch."
Desai’s face showed subtle disappointment, but he didn’t give up. "Krish, you want to watch." Then he turned back to Meera. "Honey, listen to me. Please, give him a chance to forget you. Let him... help him move on."
"Susheel, no," Meera said firmly. "This is not..." She trailed off, and Desai gently grabbed her hand.
I had almost risen from my seat, but Desai quickly said, "Krish, please sit. I know you want to watch us."
And before Meera could protest, he pulled her closer and kissed her.
"Baby, I want him to witness," he murmured as he broke the quick kiss.
Desai’s lips moved against Meera’s, coaxing her into the kiss. She resisted at first, pushing lightly against his chest, but he didn’t stop. His hands cupped her face, tilting her head just enough to deepen the kiss. Her resistance wavered, her breath hitching as his lips claimed hers more aggressively. Slowly, she gave in, her hands clutching at his shirt instead of pushing him away.
Their kiss turned wilder, their mouths moving hungrily against each other. I heard Desai whisper between breaths, "Let me taste your tongue, baby."
Meera hesitated, but then, as if surrendering completely, she allowed him to suck it into his mouth.
Desai groaned, his voice thick with pleasure. "Mmm... it's getting sharper."
Meera let out a soft laugh, only for her open mouth to be captured again. This time, I saw Desai’s tongue slip out, trailing down from her chin before thrusting into her mouth again. Meera sucked on it, her body pressing closer to him.
At the same time, Desai’s right hand moved with purpose, reaching for the top edge of her dress. Slowly, he tugged it downward, exposing her breast once more – but this time, there was no accident.
Meera gasped and made a half-hearted attempt to pull away, but Desai pressed forward. His mouth still devouring hers, his fingers grazing over her bare skin. Then, he broke the kiss, breathing heavily as he pulled back just enough to take in the sight of her exposed breast.
His eyes darkened with desire, and a grin curled at his lips.
"I want it, baby," he said ecstatically.
Meera said, "Not here, let's go to the room."
She quickly stole a glance at me, and I couldn't guess whether she was disappointed by my presence. But she had seen me. She knew I wasn’t leaving. Desai’s words came back to my mind.
"To make her move on from you completely... the best way to do that… is to remind her that your cuckold nature is still in you."
He was right. Just by selling her the idea that I hadn't changed, I could help her decide in favour of moving on from me.
And he had already planted that belief in her mind by telling her to let me witness them – imprinting a final image in my head of her and him, irreversibly intimate.
Meera’s resistance had faded. She lowered her hand, leaving her left breast exposed, and leaned back on the couch, silently accepting the moment. Desai reached out, his fingers brushing against her skin as he untangled her necklace, which had shifted out of place from their movements. His palm lingered over her bare breast, tracing slow circles before moving toward the other side of her dress.
With deliberate ease, he gripped the fabric and pulled it down. The dress resisted for a moment before sliding lower, unveiling her fully. Her breasts, with tits semi-erect, appeared bigger than usual against the tight folds of fabric gathered beneath them, the soft weight of them rising and falling with each breath. Desai exhaled, taking in the sight, his eyes dark with desire.
“How can you be so beautiful, Meera? I'm growing older day by day.”
Meera sighed, “Not here, old man! Please. I am begging you, take me to the room. I can’t enjoy this. It’s getting awkward.”
This time, I sided with her. “Desai, take her to the bedroom.”
"Okay," Desai smirked and turned to me. “But you’ll follow us.”
I nodded. I had already decided to go along with his idea.
Desai stood first, then helped Meera to her feet. As soon as she stood up, she pulled her dress back up to cover her breasts. But Desai had other plans. With a sudden motion, he swept her into his arms, making her gasp in surprise.
Meera laughed, instinctively wrapping her arms around his neck. “I know you’re not an old man, Susheel. You don’t have to prove it again and again.”
Desai grinned. “This is how I want to do it.”
“Fantasies,” Meera murmured, shaking her head with a playful smile.
He carried her toward the room opposite our master bedroom. Halfway there, he lifted her higher, making her squeal softly before his lips captured hers again. Their kiss deepened mid-air, and Meera’s legs swung slightly with the motion of his steps.
I followed a few steps behind, watching as she melted into him. Her dress had slipped slightly again, but she didn’t seem to care.
Desai pulled away just enough to murmur against her lips, "You taste incredible, baby."
Meera chuckled breathlessly. "You're just obsessed with kissing me, aren’t you?"
"I am," Desai admitted, brushing his nose against hers. "And I plan to show you just how much."
I didn’t follow Desai. He had reached the door of the bedroom, still carrying Meera in his arms. Instead of pushing it open himself, he stood there, waiting. Then he turned his head and looked at me.
"Krish, could you help me open the door?" His voice was calm, almost playful. "I don’t want to put her down before I reach the bed. It'll ruin the romantic feel."
I hesitated. It was clear he was just finding reasons to pull me along with him, making sure I didn't stay behind.
I got up and slowly walked toward them. As I reached the door and pushed it open, I muttered, "I’m afraid you’re wasting your energy in the wrong place."
Desai chuckled, stepping inside. "I don’t need physical energy tonight, Krish," he said, glancing at Meera, whose arms were still wrapped around his neck. "I’m emotionally very charged."
He carried Meera inside the room and I stood just outside the room.
This was it. The moment Desai had envisioned – the moment he wanted me to witness.
I noticed Meera’s gaze flickering toward me briefly, but she didn’t say anything. Instead, she turned her face back to Desai, as if she had made her choice.
As I stood outside the door, I watched Desai reach the bed and gently lower Meera onto it. The moment her back touched the mattress, he hurriedly leaned over her, his mouth capturing hers in a deep kiss. He had to bend slightly, obscuring my view of her, but I saw her face tilted upward, lips locked with his. As their kiss deepened, Desai began unbuttoning his shirt with one hand, his urgency evident.
I knew I should stay – I had promised Desai I would. But I couldn’t watch. Not this. Not when he had already won. He wouldn’t remember me for the next few minutes. Why would he? He had what he wanted the most. And he had ensured that Meera saw me opening the door for them, giving her one last confirmation that I was never meant to be her man.
From this moment on, I had no purpose in Meera’s life – except to hear her surrender to him one last time.
I turned away, walking back to my couch. My throat felt unbearably dry. Grabbing a water bottle, I took a long sip, trying to swallow the reality of what was unfolding behind me.
The bedroom door remained open. I couldn’t hear anything yet, but I knew it was only a matter of time before Meera’s voice filled the silence – accepting him, submitting to his touch, merging with his desire.
Tomorrow, Desai’s ultimate wish would be fulfilled. He would wake up with Meera.
I settled onto the couch and sighed. A deep, growing emptiness spread through me. I had pushed Meera away – because it was the only way to give her the peace she deserved. I had convinced myself that, in doing so, I would also free myself from the grip of my own twisted desires. But I had never considered the cost. I had never imagined the void that would follow, the hollow ache settling like dead weight in my chest.
It was hell. A hell of my own making.
A soft giggle floated from the bedroom, pulling me back to the moment. Desai must have started bringing out his A-game.
I reached for the empty glass on the table, debating whether I should pour myself a drink. But I couldn’t lift it. The coldness of the glass against my skin felt meaningless. The drink wouldn’t change anything. Nothing would.
What would help, though?
My gaze drifted back to the door. It stood open, an unspoken invitation. And I realized – Desai was right. Perhaps both Meera and I needed a final image, something inescapable, undeniable. A truth I could never un-see, never forget. A memory carved so deeply into my mind that it would finally force me to move on.
A final image. That was the key.
I rose to my feet; my legs heavy yet steady, and walked toward the door. Each step felt like both a betrayal and a necessity.
The door stood open.
And then I saw it.
Meera lay on the bed, still in her dress, but it had lost its shape. The fabric had slipped off her breasts down to her hips, with the hem gathered at her waist. She looked as good as completely nude. Desai was shirtless, and his strong, muscular body was on top of her, though he wasn’t resting his weight on her. His knees were placed between her parted thighs, and his body inwardly curved over hers. His mouth was on her breasts, feasting on their softness. I saw his tongue dancing around the centre of her softness, his hunger evident in the way he licked beneath them.
Meera’s arms moved uncertainly at first, as if she didn’t know where to place them. But as I watched, they slowly wrapped around Desai’s head, fingers threading through his hair. She was welcoming his touch.
I didn’t feel anger. Not even jealousy. Just a hollow emptiness settling deep in my chest – a void I couldn’t fill. This was my reality now. This was what I had chosen.
I was about to step back, to retreat from the scene, when Desai turned his eyes to me. There was no surprise in his gaze – just a calm acknowledgment, as if he had always known I would be there.
“Come on in, Krish,” he said, his voice low but commanding.
In that moment, I understood. This wasn’t just my last opportunity. It was his too – his last chance to let me watch, to imprint this moment in my mind forever. Like me, he was a man of fantasies, and this was his way of claiming victory.
Against the part of me that screamed to turn away, my feet moved forward, obeying his words. My eyes were unable to look away. Desai looked pleased, and he turned his attention back to Meera, his fix on Meera.
I stood there, a silent witness to the unravelling of everything I had once held dear. And as I watched, a strange indifference crept in, as if my subconscious mind had already accepted the inevitable. I started to feel like an intruder in someone else’s intimate space.
Desai's head lowered back into Meera, his lips plunging into her neck, and I saw him licking her throat with his wet tongue. I saw his right hand move under her body, supporting his weight on it. His other hand drifted downward, slipping between her parted legs, and he slid it inside her panty from the front. He was aiming for her centre, and Meera wasn’t ready for it; she flinched – not entirely resisting, but as if her body wasn’t sure whether to yield or fight. She grabbed Desai's hand before he could reach his targeted spot.
Desai pulled his hand back but gently grabbed Meera's hand, stretching her arm across the bed before turning to me.
"Hold her, Krish," he said quietly, his words more an invitation than a command. And he perhaps knew I would do anything at the moment. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have dared to demand such an action from me.
My heart stopped, but my body moved before I could think. I moved forward and sat on the bed and reached out, my fingers wrapping around Meera’s hand – warm, familiar, yet distant in a way that felt cold. She didn’t turn her eyes to me, but she knew of my presence, my touch.
Desai stretched her other hand to the opposite side with his right hand, making her lie fully open to his will. He lowered his face to her. This time, he didn’t go for her lips but instead brought his face to her right armpit, licking there at an unhurried, deliberate pace. Meera’s expression shifted between disbelief and surrender – she was caught in his act of utmost worship. She exhaled again as Desai licked her armpit once more.
“Susheel…” Meera giggled a little this time. “What are you doing?”
“Just tasting you a little bit,” Desai teased. “I wanted to do it the moment I saw you in this dress, baby.”
He licked again, and then soon shifted his oral worship back to her breasts.
But, unbeknownst to him – or at least, that’s what I thought at the time – there was something else happening. As Desai licked Meera’s armpit, Meera’s fingers had clasped mine, almost as a reflex. I felt a lightning bolt pass through my body, and it didn’t let go as Meera continued to hold my hand, even when Desai shifted his attention elsewhere.
The reality of the moment suddenly began to slip away from my mind.
After a few seconds, Desai slowly sat up on his knees. Unhurriedly, he pushed both hands under her dress and slid down her panty. Lifting her legs, he removed it completely, and with a casual flick of his wrist, he tossed it toward me. Instinctively, I leaned forward and caught it with my left hand. The fabric was soft, still carrying the warmth of Meera – or at least, that’s how it felt.
Desai’s action of throwing her panty to me seemed symbolic, as if he wasn’t just removing her clothes but peeling away the layers that had once tied her to me. Piece by piece, handing them back, as if returning borrowed memories.
Desai’s gaze met mine again. "This is going to be very intimate," he said and smiled at Meera, as if speaking to both of us. "And you are going to love this."
Without wasting any time, he spread her thighs and lowered his head between them. Her clothes shifted, and I caught a glimpse of her nicely shaved pussy before Desai’s mouth sealed its entrance. Meera let out a soft gasp, and her grip on my hand tightened. I, too, gripped her hand with care, as if she needed me for this.
After a few seconds, Desai lifted his mouth off her and used his fingers to spread her lips, then licked a certain spot.
"Mmm…" Meera moaned, her chest arching. Her other hand quickly grabbed Desai's hair as he kneaded her pleasure spot with his tongue. She pulled his hair a bit too harshly, it seemed, and Desai glanced up at me.
"Take it off, Krish," he said, touching her dress. "Help her get it off."
Meera, this time, looked up, and her eyes met mine. I felt I shouldn’t wait for a response from her. I moved closer and started removing the dress, pulling it upward. Surprisingly, Meera helped by lifting her torso slightly. As the dress was pulled, my hand subtly brushed against the softness of her breasts. A current passed through my body. A perverse thought suddenly overwhelmed me, and I found myself slowing down, making sure I felt over her breasts more than once.
As the dress was finally taken off, Meera was completely nude. She looked more perfect than ever, even from my upside-down view.
As Desai plunged his mouth again between her legs, I saw Meera letting out a gasp, her mouth opening and her eyes almost closing, but her gaze was fixed on me. She seemed pleased by my presence and touch, contrary to my expectations. I felt she, too, was deriving some discreet pleasure from this, allowing a stranger to intrude between her and her loving partner. Suddenly, it wasn’t just about what was happening between them; it was about what was unravelling within us.
Then, Desai looked up and saw her gaze, and he didn’t oppose.
'You can express your love for her, Krish,' he said calmly, then assured me, 'She belongs to both of us tonight.'
I was already on the verge, caught between the past and present, between letting go and holding on. The space between us had never felt smaller, yet the gap had never been wider. My gaze again met Meera’s, searching for something – hesitation, permission, resistance. And I couldn’t wait to find out.
I moved behind her head and bent down to kiss her. It was an upside-down kiss, with my nose touching her chin as our lips met. Meera responded softly at first, and then her lips opened. The greed to have more of what belonged to someone else was simply overwhelming me. I cupped her face with my hands and went on to deepen the kiss. Soon, I found her tongue touching mine, and I sucked it readily.
Just as I thought of pushing my tongue into her mouth, a muffled sound escaped her lips – something between a moan and a cry.
"Aaah…"
It took me a moment to understand why, and as I looked toward Desai, I saw that he had pushed his dick into her!
I was stunned by the manner in which he chose to claim the ultimate experience of owning Meera, right in front of me, just as she was momentarily warming up my feelings. I hadn’t even heard or noticed when Desai had lowered his pants as I got busy with the kiss. But he had not only done that; he had gotten into a perfect position between her legs and had shoved his full-size manhood into her in one smooth go, making Meera cry into my mouth.
I swallowed and watched as Desai pulled back and then pushed again.
"Aaah..." Meera let out another soft cry. She grabbed my hands, which I was still cupping her face.
“Kiss her more, Krish. She’s liking the fun. You can take off your shirt if you want.” Desai said, his voice charged with the pleasure and thrill of having his dick buried inside her tight pussy.
"No...aaah..." Meera gasped. But I had lost my will to listen. I lowered my head and kissed her. And this time, I kissed her with the intention to choke her with my maddened kiss. But Meera kept exhaling forcefully as Desai started moving in a rhythm. He had started to fuck her smoothly.
Her head was moving too much to be held onto my kiss, but I didn’t let her go. I grabbed her chin with my left hand and instinctively started caressing around her neck with my other hand. Soon, my hand traced the smooth skin beyond her neck and found the softness of her breasts. Her breasts were swaying as Desai's body hit her from the centre, and my fingers soon went searching for her tits.
Meera trembled beneath my touch, but she soon found her bearings in what was happening. She broke our kiss and whispered, “We have to stop, Krish.”
We.
The distant hint her words carried about the existence of such a term simply made me stay in the moment.
I didn’t stop.
Instead, I got up and pulled my shirt over my head, exactly like Desai had done earlier.
Then I bent down again to kiss her.
“Go on, man. You’re doing well,” I heard Desai's voice. I felt like I was imagining it.
“Krish… no…” Meera struggled under my kiss.
No. I am not imagining it.
Desai had urged me to go on.
I soon shifted my lips down to her neck and followed the path Desai had carved a few minutes ago to find the softness of her breasts. I licked the same spots Desai had teased and tasted. Meera's hands were trying to push me away, but her tits were becoming harder, making me believe that she was enjoying it. I knew she was enjoying it, though I could admit to myself that she needed to believe it.
“Meera,” I heard Desai's voice behind my head. “Tell Krish what’s left in your heart for him. Say it.”
“I still love you, Krish,” she whispered readily, her voice trembling. “I do.”
Her words hit me like a wave.
“But you’ll be in my bed tomorrow, baby.” Desai's voice broke my attention. I swallowed. “He’s right, baby…” I said. “You’ll be in his bed from tomorrow, Meera.”
Meera looked at me like she heard something she didn’t want to hear. Then she nodded. “But I’ll never forget you, Krish. Never.”
“I doubt that.” Desai chuckled. “You’ll forget,” he said, his voice low and confident. “I’ll fuck you hard enough to make sure of it.”
I twisted my head to try to look deep into Meera's eyes, my chest tight. “Won’t you love it?” I asked, my voice breaking. “Won’t you love getting fucked by him?”
She hesitated, then cried, “Yes… yes, I will.”
I nodded. “You belong to him now.”
As I said that, Meera wrapped her left arm around my neck to pull me down and kissed me fiercely.
“Yes,” she murmured against my lips, over and over. “Yes, yes, yes…”
Meera's voice rose dramatically, so did her breathing, and I knew from the way her whole body trembled that Desai had started to fuck her faster. Meera's eyes met mine again, glazed with pleasure but still holding a flicker of something deeper, something that felt like an apology, or maybe a farewell.
“Aaah… my Meera… my baby…” Desai's voice was charged with ecstasy. “This is so great… Just to fuck you like this… You’ll love fucking me from tomorrow. I’d like to be your slave… you know that, baby?”
“Aaah…please…” Meera spoke between her raised breathing. “Please don’t make me do this…Susheel…aaaah!”
“Come on, baby… he too deserves your love tonight. It’s okay. Give him some love.” And he paused for a moment to get my attention. “Lower your pants, Krish. Let her see it…”
I was stunned by his suggestion. I looked up, and he gave a few more thrusts into Meera, this time making her cry louder.
Then he paused. “You can move this side if you want,” he insisted again, pointing to Meera's right side. I wiped my face, attempting to check if this was really happening. I remembered sitting in the hall and holding a rum cocktail, but I couldn’t remember actually drinking it. Perhaps it had evaporated, or it had dissolved into my blood and sweat so deeply that I started to feel like I was the cocktail.
There was little I could do to control myself. I moved slowly at first to shift to Meera's right side, and then hurried to lower my pants – without even bothering to loosen the waist.
to be continued...
Instead, she gripped his shirt and pulled him closer, urging him to grind into her more. Her fingers curled into the fabric, holding onto him as if bracing herself for what was to come.
Desai groaned into her mouth, his lips leaving hers only to travel down her neck. He sucked on her skin, his teeth grazing her flesh just enough to make her gasp. She tilted her chin back, giving him full access, surrendering completely.
Meera arched into him, her body curving with need, pressing herself deeper into his embrace. And in that moment, I knew. The deal was sealed. There was no turning back.
I was lost in the moment, but to be honest, I hated every second of it. My eyes burned as I watched them, yet I couldn’t look away. I tried, but my lips still carried the taste of hers – the warmth, the softness, and the way she had pressed against me just moments ago. It wasn’t just the kiss. It was how she had reached for me, how her body leaned into mine. Had she really wanted Desai all along, or was this just her way of proving something after I pushed her away?
The more I thought about it, the more it felt like she was being pulled toward me, not him. The way she looked at me when she spoke about her dream. The teasing smile on her lips. The way she had come so close before she kissed me. And now, she was doing the same with him – but it felt different. It felt like she was reacting to what had happened between us. Like she was trying to erase whatever she had felt with me by giving herself to Desai.
I remembered something Desai had told me long ago.
A cuckold becomes the winner when he forgives his wife and accepts her back after she's been fucked by another man.
I clenched my jaw as the weight of his words settled over me. Meera had given me every sign tonight – signs that she wanted to return, that she was waiting for me to stop her. But I hadn’t. I had let her go. I had pushed her into Desai’s arms, thinking that was what she needed, what I needed.
And now, she had surrendered completely.
Not just to Desai’s touch, but to the fate I had written for her.
For all her inner struggles, for all the times she had resisted, she had finally given in – to Desai’s hunger, to my decision, to the reality that there was no turning back now. And that realization burned through me more than anything else.
The room felt heavier than the silence that had settled between us. I stood frozen, my breath caught in my throat, watching Meera and Desai as though they existed in a world just beyond my reach – close enough to see, but impossible to touch. They were inches apart, their faces tilted toward each other, and then, without hesitation, Desai closed the distance. His lips met hers in a kiss that was unhurried, deliberate, as if he wanted to carve every second into memory. Meera responded, her hands resting lightly on his chest, her lips pressing into his with a quiet surrender.
The kiss broke soon, but the air between them remained charged.
Desai exhaled, as if steadying himself, then reached into his pocket and pulled out something small and velvety. He flipped open the box, revealing a thin necklace, its whitish-grey colour glinting in the light, with a heart-shaped pendant.
"I think this is the moment," he murmured. "I know it’s too soon to propose – I know you wouldn’t fall for that. But I can’t stop myself from asking you to wear this. Please accept it, Meera."
Meera stared at him, as if her world had come to a standstill. Her eyes didn’t even glance at the necklace for a second.
"I would have said no if you had proposed," she said slowly. "Yes, it’s too soon."
Desai put the empty box back into his pocket and held the necklace with both hands, lifting it up in front of her.
"Take it as a gift," he urged. "I’d love to see you wearing it."
Meera nodded slowly. "Okay."
She extended her hand.
"Allow me to put it on you," Desai said, gently raising the necklace to her neck. Meera hesitated, looking at him.
"But it doesn’t mean anything, deal?"
"Deal."
Meera lowered her hands and tilted her chin, exposing her neck to him.
She smiled. "I’ve lived a lot of fantasies with Krish. Now it’s time to live yours," she said, still smiling.
Desai placed the necklace around her neck and struggled for a moment to fasten the hook behind her head. Meera remained calm, standing still until he finished. Once done, Desai kissed her again – this time shorter, but with a touch of gratitude.
Desai stepped back to admire her. She was a mess – her dress slightly wrinkled, its fabric clinging to her in places. Yet the pendant rested low, nearly vanishing into her deep cleavage, drawing attention effortlessly and adding to the sultry aura she already carried.
"It’s beautiful. And you look stunning, Meera," Desai said.
Meera glanced at the necklace, and then smiled at him. "It’s beautiful."
Desai took both of her hands and pulled her closer.
"You’re beautiful, baby. I can’t wait."
Meera saw what was coming and laughed. "You’ll have to wait, Susheel. You..."
Meera paused as Desai smiled at her understandably and held her hand. He then led her back to the couch, his arm steadying her as she swayed slightly. Once she sat down, he turned to me.
"Sorry, Krish," he said with a chuckle. "Guess I got carried away in the excitement."
Meera leaned back against the couch, rubbing her temples. "I feel overly drunk. I can't drink anymore."
I took another sip of my drink, rolling the taste over my tongue before swallowing. "The drink is good," I admitted. "That sweet and citrus taste mixed with the bitterness of the rum – it’s hard to tell just how much alcohol is in one glass."
Desai grinned. "That’s because I made it to taste its best."
Meera let out a small laugh, tilting her head toward him. "Ah, now I see your real intentions."
Desai raised an eyebrow. "And what would that be?"
"You want the night to be wild," she said, her lips curving into a knowing smirk.
Desai didn't hesitate. "I do. I want the night to be wild – with all of us enjoying."
I let out a dry laugh. "So far, it looks like only two people are enjoying it to the fullest."
Meera shot me a sharp look, a teasing glint in her eyes. "Well, you deserve to sit and stare." She tilted her head, her voice laced with mockery. "Because you’re a heartless man."
Desai leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "I have no plans to leave Krish out of the fun tonight," he said with a grin.
I narrowed my eyes and dared to joke. "I hope you’re not planning a threesome."
Meera made an angry face at me, while Desai burst into laughter.
"He’s got new ideas worth trying,” Desai teased.
Meera turned her head sharply to look at him, her eyes questioning.
Desai laughed even harder at her reaction, shaking his head. "Relax, baby. I’m just messing with you."
Meera rolled her eyes. “Thank God, I’m breaking up with him before it’s too late.”
After a moment of silence between us, Meera slowly spoke more. And she spoke to me.
“It’s not that I wanted to change you, Krish. But I’ve always hoped to see you stand up for what you initiate. You made me sleep with other men, allowed me to play with my emotions, and then you began experimenting with it. I knew I would falter, but instead of hiding in the background, watching where I was heading, I would’ve preferred for you to be a part of it—guide me, bring me back when I lost my way. I've never attached myself to anyone the way I have with you. But with Susheel, you pushed me too far. The threat of leaving me—it was too much. At one point, I even thought it was just a game between the two of you. But when I realized it was real, I prayed that it was just a game."
Meera said, and I nodded in agreement. I couldn’t have put it any better myself. But deep down, I knew it was too late to correct myself.
Both Desai's and my drinks were nearly finished, so we decided to empty our glasses. Meera, however, shook her head. "I don't want to pass out," she said.
Desai smirked. "Then Krish and I will share your drink."
Meera's eyes widened. "You've learned a lot of silly stuff from Krish. I warn you – don't do it."
But Desai ignored her warning, took her glass, and poured the remaining drink equally into ours. We clinked the bottoms of our glasses together before finishing it in one go.
He then turned to Meera on an afterthought. “A few minutes ago, you said you’re not attached to anyone. Does that mean it’s going to be tough for me?” He asked.
“You know how tough I can be, Susheel.” Meera said. “But you’re a tough guy too. I agreed to Krish’s demand to come with you because of that—you can withstand heartbreak.”
“I won’t let you break my heart.”
“I want to believe that, Romeo.”
After that, we proceeded to have dinner. Desai mentioned that he only needed a light meal.
Meera smirked. "Preserving your energy for the night?" she teased.
Desai raised an eyebrow. "Shouldn’t I?"
Meera flushed at his direct tease. "Mmm… tell me," he pressed, leaning slightly toward her.
Meera turned away with a shy smile. "Shut up," she muttered.
I watched them, and Meera noticed. She gestured for me to eat, so we all focused on our plates. None of us ate much, and dinner ended quickly.
Afterward, we returned to the hall. Meera started toward the room. "I need to change," she said.
Desai stopped her with a soft, "Please… keep it."
Meera stared at him for a few seconds, as if processing his words. Then, I saw it – the flicker of understanding in her eyes. I understood it too.
Desai wanted her to step into his bedroom in the same dress. He wanted to welcome her like this – just as she was – into his bed and into his life.
I realized then that this night wasn’t about the union of two souls – it was purely about the union of two bodies. Desai hardly made an effort to talk about anything meaningful; he was more focused on teasing, turning every moment into a game of seduction. It was as if he believed that sleeping with Meera tonight was necessary, that taking her to bed and claiming her there was the best way forward.
In a way, he had his reasons to think so. After all, the version of Meera he longed for – the one he truly connected with – was the one he had found in moments of intimacy. Perhaps Desai had come with a plan. A plan to take her to bed, to drown her in the pleasure he knew he could give, and at the right moment, claim not just her body, but her heart.
I was sure Meera wouldn’t be able to say no to him.
I wondered what his ultimate wish for the night was. To make Meera say yes to his proposal? Earlier, he had spotted a moment to propose but had held back, admitting it was too soon. Maybe he was waiting for the perfect moment.
And that moment would come tonight.
The more I thought about it, the more I started to believe it.
Meera had come back to the hall but then hesitated for a moment. "I am feeling heavy...my head like a mess," She said. "I think having some soup would help."
She looked at both of us. "Who else wants some?"
Desai and I exchanged glances.
"Okay, I’ll have some," I said.
Desai shook his head sideways, "No thanks, baby."
She nodded and walked away, both me and Desai watching the soft sway of her hips.
As soon as she disappeared into the kitchen, Desai leaned toward me, lowering his voice.
"She’s making sure she walks into my bed with a clear mind."
I noticed how Desai spoke like it was now a certainty that Meera would sleep with him. I let out a short breath. "Good for you."
Desai smirked, but then he looked at me carefully, as if noticing something beneath my calm tone.
"You okay?" he asked.
I wasn’t.
I threw a glance toward the kitchen before speaking. "No, I’m not."
Desai waited, giving me the space to continue. I didn’t look at him when I spoke, but I knew he was listening.
"I still love her, Desai." I admitted. "But I’m still pushing her toward you. Not because I want to. But because I have to."
Desai stayed quiet.
"If I stay with her, I’ll only ruin her," I continued. "I know what kind of man I am, Desai. I’ve come to terms with it. I’ll end up making her sleep with other men, whether she wants it or not, because… that’s how I am." I swallowed hard. "But with you, it’s different. I’ve seen it. She has chemistry with you. A real one. And I think you deserve to be her lifelong companion."
Desai still didn’t say anything, but I could sense he was absorbing every word.
"She’s told me, and I’ve seen it myself," I went on. "When she’s with you, she forgets everything else. I mean in bed. And let’s be real – bedroom is the foundation of marriage. Everything else – money, power, job, society – it all comes after that. Maybe someday she’ll find someone even better than you, Desai. But I’m not worried about that. I’m only worried about making sure she moves on from me."
I exhaled, feeling lighter after saying it out loud. "That’s why I’m pushing her to you. It’s up to you to make it or break it. But tonight, she’s all yours."
Desai finally spoke. "Krish… this is the ultimate sacrifice." He paused. "But I’m not a fool. I don’t believe she’ll just choose me over you overnight."
I gave a short, dry chuckle. "It’s not overnight. It’s been a long road to get here. Fights, arguments, resistance – Meera has pushed back every step of the way. We didn’t reach this point just like that. It’s been a long battle."
Desai nodded. "I know." He took a deep breath, then looked at me again. "But I still need your help."
I turned to him, frowning slightly. "Help for what?"
Desai hesitated, then spoke carefully. "To make her move on from you completely."
I narrowed my eyes. "And what exactly do you mean by that?"
He gave me a look. "Krish, don’t take this the wrong way. But the best way to do that… is to remind her that your cuckold nature is still in you."
I froze. My fingers tightened around my glass.
I turned to him slowly. "What the hell are you saying?"
Desai sighed, leaning back. "You have to watch. Become a part of... "
"No. I can’t." I didn't let him finish. "I don’t want to."
Before Desai could respond, we heard the sound of footsteps – slow, slightly uneven.
Meera walked in, carrying two bowls of soup, her movements just a little too careful, like she was trying to mask the sway in her steps.
Both of us straightened immediately, dropping the conversation.
She looked between us as she handed me a bowl. "What were you two talking about?"
"Nothing," Desai said smoothly.
I took a sip from my soup in silence, my mind still stuck on his words.
"You guys are acting weird," Meera muttered, sitting down with Desai.
Desai smiled at her. "Just men talk, baby."
She rolled her eyes and started sipping her soup, unaware of the silent battle happening between us.
And as I stared down at my soup, I realized something.
Desai wasn’t just planning to take Meera to bed tonight.
He was planning to claim her.
As Meera and I sipped our soup, Desai asked her what kind it was. She said it was a corn soup. “Quick to make.” she added.
Desai nodded. “I can smell the aroma,” he said, then smirked. “Would you share?”
Meera scoffed. “Oh, now you want some?”
Desai leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper. “If you don’t, I’ll just have to steal it from your mouth. Literally.”
Meera shot him a serious stare but then, unable to hold it, a playful smile curled on her lips. She scooped some soup onto a spoon, blew gently to cool it, and brought it to Desai’s lips. He took in the whole spoonful, swallowing without hesitation.
“It’s good,” he said.
Meera shrugged. “It’s just from a ready-made pack. Nothing special.”
Desai shook his head. “No, it tastes better somehow. I don’t know why.”
Meera narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously, then took another spoonful for herself. Something clicked in her mind. She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, the hint of realization dawning in her expression.
I watched on as they continued sharing the same spoon, drinking from the same bowl, their subtle playfulness filling the air between them.
I casually asked him about the flight details for next day.
“I was about to tell you.” Desai leaned back in his chair he looked at Meera with a quiet intensity. “I told my parents that a true gift is waiting for them next week,” he said.
Meera blinked, “What do you mean?”
“I’m not taking you to the resort first,” Desai said. “I’m taking you home. To my parents.”
His words surprised both me and Meera. He had told me that he was going to take Meera for a week-long trip to bamboo resort.
Desai went on, “I want you to meet them first, Meera. I don’t want this to feel like a getaway. I want it to feel real. You should meet them, understand where I come from, and then decide if you still want to go to the resort.”
Meera kept the soup bowl back on the centre table. For a long moment, she didn’t say anything. But I saw the shift in her eyes; as if the wall she kept up against Desai was collapsing. She looked straight and I saw her eyes becoming wet. She lowered her eye slowly, shaking her head, and then to our surprise, she covered her face with hands and let out a soft sob.
Desai was unsure, reflecting my own reaction.
“Meera?” he called.
Meera looked up, and her lips quivered. “I was awful to you,” she turned to him. “Especially after that day at Alpine Heights. I was rude to you… I… I thought I knew exactly where my heart stood. But maybe I didn’t.”
Desai's face softened, “Meera, you don’t…”
She didn’t let him finish. She reached for him, cupping his face with both hands, and pressed her lips to his.
It wasn’t hurried, wasn’t desperate. It was deliberate. A moment of surrender, of acceptance.
I watched from the side, witnessing the rare moment of Meera letting herself lean into Desai, and slowly, perhaps, her heart truly begin to shift towards him.
She picked up the soup again and took a spoonful to her mouth. It was nearly finished. She then offered the last spoonful to Desai.
Desai took it and smiled at her.
“I wish you’d say you love me, at least now,” Desai blurted. “If you can’t, then at least spit into my mouth.”
“What?” Meera looked at him, surprised. “That’s an awful thing to suggest.”
“I thought it was a gesture,” Desai said.
“It wasn’t a gesture of love. It was…” She stole a glance at my face before continuing. “It’s just some ultimate kinky stuff Krish taught me. It has psychological value in our heads, but I’m not emotionally attached to it. I don’t want to spit into someone’s mouth to say I love them.” She pulled a face, then let out a laugh at the absurdity of it. “How awful to think like that.”
Desai laughed, then said, “But I loved the taste. Never mind.”
“I will never spit into your mouth,” Meera said, looking at him. “You’ll have to find another kink if that’s what you want.”
And now, she was full of smiles.
As the soup finished, I volunteered to take the bowls to the kitchen. After that, I made a quick visit to the washroom as well.
When I returned, I saw them sitting closer, Desai’s arm dbangd around her. They were deep in conversation, and Meera was gushing – her eyes bright, her smile effortless. I stopped at the door, choosing not to enter the hall.
I watched as Meera shook her head, murmuring a soft "no," though there was no real resistance in her tone. She raised a hand in emphasis, her fingers moving in a way I couldn’t quite decipher. Desai caught that hand, holding it for a moment before letting it go. Instead, he gently turned her face toward him – and kissed her.
At first, it was Desai kissing her, but within seconds, Meera leaned in, pressing her lips back against his with unmistakable intent. From where I stood, half-hidden inside the bedroom doorway, I saw Desai’s right hand glide from her face down to her neck, then lower, tracing slow circles around her left breast. Meera didn’t flinch, didn’t stop him. And in that moment, I knew – she was ready to welcome him.
Then, as their lips parted, Desai saw me. Though he didn’t startle, he slowly withdrew his hand from her chest. His eyes met mine.
"Come, Krish. We're just talking," he said casually.
I exhaled. "I think it's time to sleep."
Desai smirked. "Come on, Meera is still sloppy."
Meera elbowed him lightly in the stomach. "Ouch!" he groaned.
"Who is sloshy…?" she mumbled, then quickly corrected herself. "Sloppy."
Desai chuckled. "Your kiss was very sloppy. Your tongue was sloppy. I don’t want to take you to bed yet."
Meera jabbed him again, this time with the back of her elbow.
I walked into the hall and sat on my couch while they continued their playful banter.
"What’s wrong with my tongue being sloppy?" Meera asked, narrowing her eyes.
"I like your tongue sharp always," Desai teased. "Especially in bed."
Meera scoffed, then wrapped both hands around his neck, pretending to choke him. "You pervert!"
Desai laughed, still not looking at me, as he playfully struggled to free himself. "Krish, looks like you're going to end up watching us make love right here. This lady is too hot and aggressive to resist."
And before she could react, he suddenly pulled her closer, leaning back. Meera lost her balance and fell on top of him. Desai wrapped an arm around her neck, pulling her face dangerously close to his.
From where I sat, all I could see was Meera’s round ass and the smooth curve of her legs. I didn’t know if they kissed again – but I was sure Desai wouldn’t have let the moment slip.
But my doubt was quickly erased as Meera continued to stay on top of him, Desai’s arm wrapping around her hip. His right hand soon reached back to caress her ass – though it looked more like an attempt to steady her from slipping off.
"Leave me! I'll spit on you, you moron," Meera warned, narrowing her eyes.
Desai grinned. "You're welcome to spit into my mouth."
Meera scoffed. "I’ll spit on your face."
Desai smirked. "You can do whatever you want to me."
Meera lifted her fist and playfully thumped his chest. "Desai…" she muttered in a tone that was half-warning, half-laugh.
And in the next second, with a quick push of his right foot against the floor, Desai twisted her whole body to the left, making her fall onto the couch beside him. In one swift stroke, he had her lying next to him – though he himself didn’t have enough space to stretch out properly.
In the brief struggle, his right hand brushed firmly against the top edge of her dress, and in an instant, the fabric slipped down.
Suddenly, her left breast was fully exposed.
I was stunned.
"Hey!" Meera yelped.
Desai quickly apologized and tried to pull the edge of her dress back up, but it wasn’t easy. His fingers fumbled against the fabric, and in the process, he ended up brushing against her breast a couple of times.
"What are you doing? Get off me!" Meera snapped, as is his touch burnt her.
Desai immediately pulled back and sat up. Meera did the same, her face turning toward me in embarrassment. Avoiding my gaze, she hastily pulled her dress up, struggling for a moment before finally managing to cover herself.
I said, "Guys, I think you’re ready. At least I should leave you alone."
But Desai shook his head. "No, bro. Please, stay."
Meera shot him a warning look. "But stop doing this."
Desai smirked. "Who started this?"
Meera didn’t answer. Instead, she turned to me. "Please, Krish, let’s call it a day."
Her words – though meant to make Desai behave – hit me like thunder. She had told me to call it a day. In other words, she wanted me to go to my room. Hadn’t she just made her choice clear? Hadn’t she chosen her partner?
My heart sank, no matter how much I had tried to convince myself that I was prepared for this moment.
Desai said, "Babe, let him stay. He’s part of our love story."
Meera stared at him. "What do you mean?"
Desai looked her in the eyes. "It’s the last time he’ll get the chance to fulfil his long-standing wish."
Meera frowned. "What wish?"
Desai held her gaze and said, "To watch us."
Meera’s reaction was instant. "No." She turned to me. "Krish..."
Desai also turned to me. "Krish, say yes."
I could see the request in his eyes. Both of them were staring at me, waiting for my response. And I said, "No, I don’t want to watch."
Desai’s face showed subtle disappointment, but he didn’t give up. "Krish, you want to watch." Then he turned back to Meera. "Honey, listen to me. Please, give him a chance to forget you. Let him... help him move on."
"Susheel, no," Meera said firmly. "This is not..." She trailed off, and Desai gently grabbed her hand.
I had almost risen from my seat, but Desai quickly said, "Krish, please sit. I know you want to watch us."
And before Meera could protest, he pulled her closer and kissed her.
"Baby, I want him to witness," he murmured as he broke the quick kiss.
Desai’s lips moved against Meera’s, coaxing her into the kiss. She resisted at first, pushing lightly against his chest, but he didn’t stop. His hands cupped her face, tilting her head just enough to deepen the kiss. Her resistance wavered, her breath hitching as his lips claimed hers more aggressively. Slowly, she gave in, her hands clutching at his shirt instead of pushing him away.
Their kiss turned wilder, their mouths moving hungrily against each other. I heard Desai whisper between breaths, "Let me taste your tongue, baby."
Meera hesitated, but then, as if surrendering completely, she allowed him to suck it into his mouth.
Desai groaned, his voice thick with pleasure. "Mmm... it's getting sharper."
Meera let out a soft laugh, only for her open mouth to be captured again. This time, I saw Desai’s tongue slip out, trailing down from her chin before thrusting into her mouth again. Meera sucked on it, her body pressing closer to him.
At the same time, Desai’s right hand moved with purpose, reaching for the top edge of her dress. Slowly, he tugged it downward, exposing her breast once more – but this time, there was no accident.
Meera gasped and made a half-hearted attempt to pull away, but Desai pressed forward. His mouth still devouring hers, his fingers grazing over her bare skin. Then, he broke the kiss, breathing heavily as he pulled back just enough to take in the sight of her exposed breast.
His eyes darkened with desire, and a grin curled at his lips.
"I want it, baby," he said ecstatically.
Meera said, "Not here, let's go to the room."
She quickly stole a glance at me, and I couldn't guess whether she was disappointed by my presence. But she had seen me. She knew I wasn’t leaving. Desai’s words came back to my mind.
"To make her move on from you completely... the best way to do that… is to remind her that your cuckold nature is still in you."
He was right. Just by selling her the idea that I hadn't changed, I could help her decide in favour of moving on from me.
And he had already planted that belief in her mind by telling her to let me witness them – imprinting a final image in my head of her and him, irreversibly intimate.
Meera’s resistance had faded. She lowered her hand, leaving her left breast exposed, and leaned back on the couch, silently accepting the moment. Desai reached out, his fingers brushing against her skin as he untangled her necklace, which had shifted out of place from their movements. His palm lingered over her bare breast, tracing slow circles before moving toward the other side of her dress.
With deliberate ease, he gripped the fabric and pulled it down. The dress resisted for a moment before sliding lower, unveiling her fully. Her breasts, with tits semi-erect, appeared bigger than usual against the tight folds of fabric gathered beneath them, the soft weight of them rising and falling with each breath. Desai exhaled, taking in the sight, his eyes dark with desire.
“How can you be so beautiful, Meera? I'm growing older day by day.”
Meera sighed, “Not here, old man! Please. I am begging you, take me to the room. I can’t enjoy this. It’s getting awkward.”
This time, I sided with her. “Desai, take her to the bedroom.”
"Okay," Desai smirked and turned to me. “But you’ll follow us.”
I nodded. I had already decided to go along with his idea.
Desai stood first, then helped Meera to her feet. As soon as she stood up, she pulled her dress back up to cover her breasts. But Desai had other plans. With a sudden motion, he swept her into his arms, making her gasp in surprise.
Meera laughed, instinctively wrapping her arms around his neck. “I know you’re not an old man, Susheel. You don’t have to prove it again and again.”
Desai grinned. “This is how I want to do it.”
“Fantasies,” Meera murmured, shaking her head with a playful smile.
He carried her toward the room opposite our master bedroom. Halfway there, he lifted her higher, making her squeal softly before his lips captured hers again. Their kiss deepened mid-air, and Meera’s legs swung slightly with the motion of his steps.
I followed a few steps behind, watching as she melted into him. Her dress had slipped slightly again, but she didn’t seem to care.
Desai pulled away just enough to murmur against her lips, "You taste incredible, baby."
Meera chuckled breathlessly. "You're just obsessed with kissing me, aren’t you?"
"I am," Desai admitted, brushing his nose against hers. "And I plan to show you just how much."
I didn’t follow Desai. He had reached the door of the bedroom, still carrying Meera in his arms. Instead of pushing it open himself, he stood there, waiting. Then he turned his head and looked at me.
"Krish, could you help me open the door?" His voice was calm, almost playful. "I don’t want to put her down before I reach the bed. It'll ruin the romantic feel."
I hesitated. It was clear he was just finding reasons to pull me along with him, making sure I didn't stay behind.
I got up and slowly walked toward them. As I reached the door and pushed it open, I muttered, "I’m afraid you’re wasting your energy in the wrong place."
Desai chuckled, stepping inside. "I don’t need physical energy tonight, Krish," he said, glancing at Meera, whose arms were still wrapped around his neck. "I’m emotionally very charged."
He carried Meera inside the room and I stood just outside the room.
This was it. The moment Desai had envisioned – the moment he wanted me to witness.
I noticed Meera’s gaze flickering toward me briefly, but she didn’t say anything. Instead, she turned her face back to Desai, as if she had made her choice.
As I stood outside the door, I watched Desai reach the bed and gently lower Meera onto it. The moment her back touched the mattress, he hurriedly leaned over her, his mouth capturing hers in a deep kiss. He had to bend slightly, obscuring my view of her, but I saw her face tilted upward, lips locked with his. As their kiss deepened, Desai began unbuttoning his shirt with one hand, his urgency evident.
I knew I should stay – I had promised Desai I would. But I couldn’t watch. Not this. Not when he had already won. He wouldn’t remember me for the next few minutes. Why would he? He had what he wanted the most. And he had ensured that Meera saw me opening the door for them, giving her one last confirmation that I was never meant to be her man.
From this moment on, I had no purpose in Meera’s life – except to hear her surrender to him one last time.
I turned away, walking back to my couch. My throat felt unbearably dry. Grabbing a water bottle, I took a long sip, trying to swallow the reality of what was unfolding behind me.
The bedroom door remained open. I couldn’t hear anything yet, but I knew it was only a matter of time before Meera’s voice filled the silence – accepting him, submitting to his touch, merging with his desire.
Tomorrow, Desai’s ultimate wish would be fulfilled. He would wake up with Meera.
I settled onto the couch and sighed. A deep, growing emptiness spread through me. I had pushed Meera away – because it was the only way to give her the peace she deserved. I had convinced myself that, in doing so, I would also free myself from the grip of my own twisted desires. But I had never considered the cost. I had never imagined the void that would follow, the hollow ache settling like dead weight in my chest.
It was hell. A hell of my own making.
A soft giggle floated from the bedroom, pulling me back to the moment. Desai must have started bringing out his A-game.
I reached for the empty glass on the table, debating whether I should pour myself a drink. But I couldn’t lift it. The coldness of the glass against my skin felt meaningless. The drink wouldn’t change anything. Nothing would.
What would help, though?
My gaze drifted back to the door. It stood open, an unspoken invitation. And I realized – Desai was right. Perhaps both Meera and I needed a final image, something inescapable, undeniable. A truth I could never un-see, never forget. A memory carved so deeply into my mind that it would finally force me to move on.
A final image. That was the key.
I rose to my feet; my legs heavy yet steady, and walked toward the door. Each step felt like both a betrayal and a necessity.
The door stood open.
And then I saw it.
Meera lay on the bed, still in her dress, but it had lost its shape. The fabric had slipped off her breasts down to her hips, with the hem gathered at her waist. She looked as good as completely nude. Desai was shirtless, and his strong, muscular body was on top of her, though he wasn’t resting his weight on her. His knees were placed between her parted thighs, and his body inwardly curved over hers. His mouth was on her breasts, feasting on their softness. I saw his tongue dancing around the centre of her softness, his hunger evident in the way he licked beneath them.
Meera’s arms moved uncertainly at first, as if she didn’t know where to place them. But as I watched, they slowly wrapped around Desai’s head, fingers threading through his hair. She was welcoming his touch.
I didn’t feel anger. Not even jealousy. Just a hollow emptiness settling deep in my chest – a void I couldn’t fill. This was my reality now. This was what I had chosen.
I was about to step back, to retreat from the scene, when Desai turned his eyes to me. There was no surprise in his gaze – just a calm acknowledgment, as if he had always known I would be there.
“Come on in, Krish,” he said, his voice low but commanding.
In that moment, I understood. This wasn’t just my last opportunity. It was his too – his last chance to let me watch, to imprint this moment in my mind forever. Like me, he was a man of fantasies, and this was his way of claiming victory.
Against the part of me that screamed to turn away, my feet moved forward, obeying his words. My eyes were unable to look away. Desai looked pleased, and he turned his attention back to Meera, his fix on Meera.
I stood there, a silent witness to the unravelling of everything I had once held dear. And as I watched, a strange indifference crept in, as if my subconscious mind had already accepted the inevitable. I started to feel like an intruder in someone else’s intimate space.
Desai's head lowered back into Meera, his lips plunging into her neck, and I saw him licking her throat with his wet tongue. I saw his right hand move under her body, supporting his weight on it. His other hand drifted downward, slipping between her parted legs, and he slid it inside her panty from the front. He was aiming for her centre, and Meera wasn’t ready for it; she flinched – not entirely resisting, but as if her body wasn’t sure whether to yield or fight. She grabbed Desai's hand before he could reach his targeted spot.
Desai pulled his hand back but gently grabbed Meera's hand, stretching her arm across the bed before turning to me.
"Hold her, Krish," he said quietly, his words more an invitation than a command. And he perhaps knew I would do anything at the moment. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have dared to demand such an action from me.
My heart stopped, but my body moved before I could think. I moved forward and sat on the bed and reached out, my fingers wrapping around Meera’s hand – warm, familiar, yet distant in a way that felt cold. She didn’t turn her eyes to me, but she knew of my presence, my touch.
Desai stretched her other hand to the opposite side with his right hand, making her lie fully open to his will. He lowered his face to her. This time, he didn’t go for her lips but instead brought his face to her right armpit, licking there at an unhurried, deliberate pace. Meera’s expression shifted between disbelief and surrender – she was caught in his act of utmost worship. She exhaled again as Desai licked her armpit once more.
“Susheel…” Meera giggled a little this time. “What are you doing?”
“Just tasting you a little bit,” Desai teased. “I wanted to do it the moment I saw you in this dress, baby.”
He licked again, and then soon shifted his oral worship back to her breasts.
But, unbeknownst to him – or at least, that’s what I thought at the time – there was something else happening. As Desai licked Meera’s armpit, Meera’s fingers had clasped mine, almost as a reflex. I felt a lightning bolt pass through my body, and it didn’t let go as Meera continued to hold my hand, even when Desai shifted his attention elsewhere.
The reality of the moment suddenly began to slip away from my mind.
After a few seconds, Desai slowly sat up on his knees. Unhurriedly, he pushed both hands under her dress and slid down her panty. Lifting her legs, he removed it completely, and with a casual flick of his wrist, he tossed it toward me. Instinctively, I leaned forward and caught it with my left hand. The fabric was soft, still carrying the warmth of Meera – or at least, that’s how it felt.
Desai’s action of throwing her panty to me seemed symbolic, as if he wasn’t just removing her clothes but peeling away the layers that had once tied her to me. Piece by piece, handing them back, as if returning borrowed memories.
Desai’s gaze met mine again. "This is going to be very intimate," he said and smiled at Meera, as if speaking to both of us. "And you are going to love this."
Without wasting any time, he spread her thighs and lowered his head between them. Her clothes shifted, and I caught a glimpse of her nicely shaved pussy before Desai’s mouth sealed its entrance. Meera let out a soft gasp, and her grip on my hand tightened. I, too, gripped her hand with care, as if she needed me for this.
After a few seconds, Desai lifted his mouth off her and used his fingers to spread her lips, then licked a certain spot.
"Mmm…" Meera moaned, her chest arching. Her other hand quickly grabbed Desai's hair as he kneaded her pleasure spot with his tongue. She pulled his hair a bit too harshly, it seemed, and Desai glanced up at me.
"Take it off, Krish," he said, touching her dress. "Help her get it off."
Meera, this time, looked up, and her eyes met mine. I felt I shouldn’t wait for a response from her. I moved closer and started removing the dress, pulling it upward. Surprisingly, Meera helped by lifting her torso slightly. As the dress was pulled, my hand subtly brushed against the softness of her breasts. A current passed through my body. A perverse thought suddenly overwhelmed me, and I found myself slowing down, making sure I felt over her breasts more than once.
As the dress was finally taken off, Meera was completely nude. She looked more perfect than ever, even from my upside-down view.
As Desai plunged his mouth again between her legs, I saw Meera letting out a gasp, her mouth opening and her eyes almost closing, but her gaze was fixed on me. She seemed pleased by my presence and touch, contrary to my expectations. I felt she, too, was deriving some discreet pleasure from this, allowing a stranger to intrude between her and her loving partner. Suddenly, it wasn’t just about what was happening between them; it was about what was unravelling within us.
Then, Desai looked up and saw her gaze, and he didn’t oppose.
'You can express your love for her, Krish,' he said calmly, then assured me, 'She belongs to both of us tonight.'
I was already on the verge, caught between the past and present, between letting go and holding on. The space between us had never felt smaller, yet the gap had never been wider. My gaze again met Meera’s, searching for something – hesitation, permission, resistance. And I couldn’t wait to find out.
I moved behind her head and bent down to kiss her. It was an upside-down kiss, with my nose touching her chin as our lips met. Meera responded softly at first, and then her lips opened. The greed to have more of what belonged to someone else was simply overwhelming me. I cupped her face with my hands and went on to deepen the kiss. Soon, I found her tongue touching mine, and I sucked it readily.
Just as I thought of pushing my tongue into her mouth, a muffled sound escaped her lips – something between a moan and a cry.
"Aaah…"
It took me a moment to understand why, and as I looked toward Desai, I saw that he had pushed his dick into her!
I was stunned by the manner in which he chose to claim the ultimate experience of owning Meera, right in front of me, just as she was momentarily warming up my feelings. I hadn’t even heard or noticed when Desai had lowered his pants as I got busy with the kiss. But he had not only done that; he had gotten into a perfect position between her legs and had shoved his full-size manhood into her in one smooth go, making Meera cry into my mouth.
I swallowed and watched as Desai pulled back and then pushed again.
"Aaah..." Meera let out another soft cry. She grabbed my hands, which I was still cupping her face.
“Kiss her more, Krish. She’s liking the fun. You can take off your shirt if you want.” Desai said, his voice charged with the pleasure and thrill of having his dick buried inside her tight pussy.
"No...aaah..." Meera gasped. But I had lost my will to listen. I lowered my head and kissed her. And this time, I kissed her with the intention to choke her with my maddened kiss. But Meera kept exhaling forcefully as Desai started moving in a rhythm. He had started to fuck her smoothly.
Her head was moving too much to be held onto my kiss, but I didn’t let her go. I grabbed her chin with my left hand and instinctively started caressing around her neck with my other hand. Soon, my hand traced the smooth skin beyond her neck and found the softness of her breasts. Her breasts were swaying as Desai's body hit her from the centre, and my fingers soon went searching for her tits.
Meera trembled beneath my touch, but she soon found her bearings in what was happening. She broke our kiss and whispered, “We have to stop, Krish.”
We.
The distant hint her words carried about the existence of such a term simply made me stay in the moment.
I didn’t stop.
Instead, I got up and pulled my shirt over my head, exactly like Desai had done earlier.
Then I bent down again to kiss her.
“Go on, man. You’re doing well,” I heard Desai's voice. I felt like I was imagining it.
“Krish… no…” Meera struggled under my kiss.
No. I am not imagining it.
Desai had urged me to go on.
I soon shifted my lips down to her neck and followed the path Desai had carved a few minutes ago to find the softness of her breasts. I licked the same spots Desai had teased and tasted. Meera's hands were trying to push me away, but her tits were becoming harder, making me believe that she was enjoying it. I knew she was enjoying it, though I could admit to myself that she needed to believe it.
“Meera,” I heard Desai's voice behind my head. “Tell Krish what’s left in your heart for him. Say it.”
“I still love you, Krish,” she whispered readily, her voice trembling. “I do.”
Her words hit me like a wave.
“But you’ll be in my bed tomorrow, baby.” Desai's voice broke my attention. I swallowed. “He’s right, baby…” I said. “You’ll be in his bed from tomorrow, Meera.”
Meera looked at me like she heard something she didn’t want to hear. Then she nodded. “But I’ll never forget you, Krish. Never.”
“I doubt that.” Desai chuckled. “You’ll forget,” he said, his voice low and confident. “I’ll fuck you hard enough to make sure of it.”
I twisted my head to try to look deep into Meera's eyes, my chest tight. “Won’t you love it?” I asked, my voice breaking. “Won’t you love getting fucked by him?”
She hesitated, then cried, “Yes… yes, I will.”
I nodded. “You belong to him now.”
As I said that, Meera wrapped her left arm around my neck to pull me down and kissed me fiercely.
“Yes,” she murmured against my lips, over and over. “Yes, yes, yes…”
Meera's voice rose dramatically, so did her breathing, and I knew from the way her whole body trembled that Desai had started to fuck her faster. Meera's eyes met mine again, glazed with pleasure but still holding a flicker of something deeper, something that felt like an apology, or maybe a farewell.
“Aaah… my Meera… my baby…” Desai's voice was charged with ecstasy. “This is so great… Just to fuck you like this… You’ll love fucking me from tomorrow. I’d like to be your slave… you know that, baby?”
“Aaah…please…” Meera spoke between her raised breathing. “Please don’t make me do this…Susheel…aaaah!”
“Come on, baby… he too deserves your love tonight. It’s okay. Give him some love.” And he paused for a moment to get my attention. “Lower your pants, Krish. Let her see it…”
I was stunned by his suggestion. I looked up, and he gave a few more thrusts into Meera, this time making her cry louder.
Then he paused. “You can move this side if you want,” he insisted again, pointing to Meera's right side. I wiped my face, attempting to check if this was really happening. I remembered sitting in the hall and holding a rum cocktail, but I couldn’t remember actually drinking it. Perhaps it had evaporated, or it had dissolved into my blood and sweat so deeply that I started to feel like I was the cocktail.
There was little I could do to control myself. I moved slowly at first to shift to Meera's right side, and then hurried to lower my pants – without even bothering to loosen the waist.
to be continued...
![[+]](https://xossipy.com/themes/sharepoint/collapse_collapsed.png)