09-02-2025, 03:29 PM
(This post was last modified: 09-02-2025, 04:27 PM by krish_999. Edited 1 time in total. Edited 1 time in total.)
Chapter 51 continues.
As soon as I slid my pants a few inches down from my waist, my throbbing erection – though concealed in my underwear – suddenly left me embarrassed, wondering if Meera would think I had fallen into Desai’s trap again, succumbing to his fantasies. But I thought that I was just a stranger, an external element introduced to heighten his mating game with his woman.
“Lower it, Krish,” Desai said again. “Let her see how excited you are to witness this. Let her see what she does to you.”
Before he finished, I had started to lower my underwear as well. My dick sprang free, throbbing and hard, a testament to the conflicting emotions swirling inside me. I quickly bent down and kissed Meera deeply, as if to reclaim her. Meera responded, her lips soft and yielding, her breath warm against mine.
Desai was watching us, and I heard his voice soon. “Meera,” he said, his voice low and coaxing. “Hold him. Touch him. He’s here for you. Let him feel your care.”
"Please... Susheel... no...." Meera's voice was a whisper as she went on, "I can’t believe… how this is all happening.”
Desai’s voice broke through the air, calm but commanding. “He’s still your husband, honey,” he said, his tone almost tender, as if reminding Meera of something she’d forgotten. His hand rested on her hip, possessive yet gentle, as he guided her attention toward me. “Show him some care.”
Meera’s eyes flickered to mine, and for a moment, the room seemed to shrink, the air thickening with unspoken tension. She hesitated, her lips parting slightly, but then she reached out, her fingers brushing against my thigh before wrapping around my hardening length. It sent a jolt of electricity through me. Her touch was tentative at first, but it quickly grew firmer, more deliberate, as she began to stroke me.
I bent down, drawn to her like a moth to a flame, and pressed my lips to hers. Meera responded immediately, her mouth opening to mine, her tongue meeting mine with a hunger that surprised me. Her saliva was sweet, intoxicating, and I lost myself in the taste of her, in the warmth of her body so close to mine. Her hand moved faster, her grip tightening as our kisses deepened, and I felt myself surrendering to the moment, to her.
"It feels like a dream. Am I in someone else's dream?" I heard Meera blurt.
Desai chuckled. “You’re in my dream, my dream girl,” he said, lifting her legs up in the air, and his hands gripping her hips as he began to move again in a slow steady rhythm.
Meera’s hand on me tightened, her strokes slowing down to match the pace of Desai’s thrusts, and I still I felt myself being pushed to an edge, caught between the physical pleasure of her touch and the emotional weight of the moment.
I leaned down to kiss her again, but this time, she was the one who pulled away, her head tilting back as another moan escaped her lips. “Aaaah…!” she cried, her body trembling beneath us both. Desai’s movement had begun to grow forceful, more urgent, and Meera’s cries filled the room, a symphony of pleasure and surrender.
I watched her, my heart pounding, my own release building as her hand continued to move. This was it – the moment I had both feared and longed for. The moment that would forever be etched into my memory, a final, unflinching glimpse of what I had lost.
After fucking Meera to the point where her grip on my dick faltered, Desai paused. He turned her knees to her right, the movement deliberate, and slapped her round ass with a sharp, echoing sound.
“This roundness,” he said, his voice low and appreciative, “will never stop exciting me.”
He bent down, pressing a kiss to the top of her ass cheek, his lips lingering for a moment before he straightened up.
Meera’s legs were turned to her right, but her torso and head remained facing upward. Desai guided himself back into her from behind, and as soon as he began thrusting, her whole body shook. The force of his movements turned her completely to her right, and now she was facing me.
Her eyes met mine, hazy but focused, and without hesitation, she reached out and took my dick in her hand again. Her touch was firm, almost possessive, as if she needed to hold onto something real amidst the chaos. Desai’s rhythm was relentless, each thrust sending tremors through her body, but Meera’s grip on me never loosened.
Meera was lost in the pleasure Desai was giving her, her body trembling with every powerful thrust. Desai was in complete control, dominating her with a rhythm that left her breathless and moaning. I watched, my own desire burning hotter, unable to stand by as just a spectator. I had given in too far to turn back now.
Slowly, I moved closer, my fingers threading through her hair as I gently guided her head toward me. Her lips parted, and I pushed my dick into her mouth, inch by inch, careful not to overwhelm her. The warmth of her mouth sent a shiver through me, and I couldn’t help but groan.
Desai, caught off guard, stopped mid-thrust, his eyes widening as he watched me take control. For a moment, the room was silent except for Meera’s muffled sounds and the heavy breathing of all three of us. Desai’s expression shifted from surprise to something darker, more intense, as he realized what was happening.
Meera’s eyes flickered up to mine, hazy but aware, and she didn’t resist. Instead, she began to move her lips, taking me deeper, her hands gripping my thighs for balance.
“Wow. That’s some stuff,” Desai said, his voice low and appreciative, before he started fucking her again. His thrusts were powerful, deliberate, each one driving Meera closer to the edge. Her movements lost their balance, her body trembling under the force of his rhythm, but I was determined not to turn back now. I held her head firmly; my fingers tangled in her hair, and began to move my hips, thrusting into her mouth with a steady pace.
Soon, our movements fell into sync – Desai pounding into her from behind while I claimed her mouth, our rhythms merging into a single, relentless force. My thrusts were less forceful compared to Desai’s powerful blows, but they were no less insistent. Meera’s body writhed between us, her moans muffled but unmistakable, her hands gripping my thighs for support.
Desai’s hands roamed her body, caressing her skin with a possessiveness that was impossible to ignore. A couple of times, he reached around to squeeze her breasts, his touch firm and demanding. It felt like he was determined to utilize this opportunity to its fullest, to push Meera beyond her own limits. He wasn’t just fucking her; he was unravelling her, pulling out a side of her she might not have even known existed.
It was as if he wanted to awaken a demon within her, to transform her into the sexual property he desired – a woman so consumed by pleasure and submission that I would never stand a chance of reclaiming her. His every touch, every thrust, was calculated to break down her inhibitions, to make her his in every way possible.
Meera’s body responded to both of us, her moans growing louder, her movements more desperate. She was caught between us, her pleasure building to a crescendo, and I could feel the tension in the room reaching its peak. Desai’s eyes met mine over her trembling form, and in that moment, I knew this wasn’t just about pleasure – it was about possession, about dominance, about ensuring that Meera would never be the same again.
And as I thrust into her mouth, my own release building, I couldn’t help but wonder if this was what Desai had wanted all along – to push her beyond her own understanding, to make her his in a way that was irreversible.
Desai stopped fucking her abruptly, pulling out with a deliberate slowness that left Meera gasping. He shifted his attention to her legs, kissing along her thighs with a tenderness that contrasted sharply with the intensity of what had just happened. Meera lay sideways, her body still trembling, as I continued to thrust into her mouth, my hands gripping her hair to keep her steady.
Desai’s voice broke through the heavy silence, low and teasing. “She’s making me jealous,” he said, his eyes flickering to mine. “I want to be you, Krish.”
I withdrew from Meera’s mouth, my breath ragged, and Desai immediately took my place. He leaned down, capturing her lips in a deep, possessive kiss before pulling back just enough to speak.
“You’re the hottest woman I’ve ever seen in my life,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. Then, without warning, he shoved his dick into her throat, his movements rough and demanding. I was stunned by the urgent manner in which he kissed her mouth, despite knowing that her mouth was stuffed by my dick moments ago. I could tell he even got the taste of my precum from her lips. He was completely overwhelmed by lust.
As Desai claimed her mouth, I moved behind her, taking his previous position. I guided myself into her pussy, and my dick slid into her wet hole. I knew the warmth inside her was not just her, but the feel of Desai's precum. My thrusts slow at first but quickly growing more urgent. Meera was lying sideways, her head held firmly by Desai, leaving her unable to object or resist. Her body responded instinctively, her moans muffled by Desai’s relentless pace.
To my surprise, I couldn’t hold back any longer. The combination of her warmth, the intensity of the moment, and the weight of everything we’d been through overwhelmed me. I came inside her, a heavy, almost liberating release that left me breathless. I didn’t make a sound, didn’t let on what had happened – I simply let the pleasure wash over me, my frustration and longing spilling out in that single, silent moment.
Desai, still fucking her mouth, seemed oblivious – or perhaps he simply didn’t care. His voice was low and possessive as he spoke between thrusts. “We’re going to be wild, together, Meera,” he said, his tone leaving no room for doubt. “You and I – this is just the beginning.”
Meera’s body trembled between us, her moans growing louder, more desperate. She was completely at our mercy, caught in a whirlwind of pleasure and submission.
Meera suddenly let out a sharp, unrestrained moan, her body arching as she came. The waves of pleasure seemed to consume her, her trembling hands gripping the sheets as she rode it out. Desai noticed immediately, his eyes darkening with satisfaction. “You’ve come, baby,” he said, his voice a mix of awe and possessiveness. “Wow.”
He pulled out of her mouth, his breath heavy, and began jerking himself furiously. Within moments, he shot a thick load onto her face, the warmth splattering across her skin. Some drops fell into her gasping mouth, and Desai’s voice was low and commanding as he said, “Swallow it, baby. Swallow the taste. This is my love. Swallow it.”
Meera, still catching her breath, obeyed instinctively, her tongue flicking out to taste him. The sight was both intimate and degrading, a stark reminder of the power Desai held over her. Once the cum bath ended, I pulled out of her, my own body spent and trembling. Desai took a moment to catch his breath, his chest rising and falling as he watched Meera with a satisfied smirk. I felt he was waiting for her to wipe clean her face so that he could kiss her again. Then I felt that he was just watching her cum-drenched face.
Meera sat up slowly with shaky movements and a face still glistening. Her eyes were wide with a mix of exhaustion and something deeper that felt like resignation or maybe acceptance. The room was silent except for our heavy breathing as the weight of what had just happened settled over us like a thick fog.
Meera sat up abruptly and I saw the shock on her face. Cum drops from her cheeks oozed down onto her breasts. She reached for her crumpled dress on the bed and quickly wiped her face with it. Then she looked at Desai and me alternately, her eyes suddenly burning with a fury that could have set the room ablaze.
Before I could say a word, she jumped out of the bed and nearly ran to the washroom. She didn’t bother to close the door, and soon the sound of the shower running filled the silence. I stood there frozen with a sinking feeling in my chest. Something was wrong. Terribly wrong.
Desai, however, seemed unfazed. He casually rubbed his dick, a satisfied grin spreading across his face. “It’s a wonderful beginning, isn’t it?” he asked, his tone dripping with pride.
I stared at him, my voice trembling. “I think she didn’t like it.”
Desai’s grin faltered for a moment, but before he could respond, Meera stormed out of the washroom. She had a towel wrapped tightly around her body, her hair damp and her eyes blazing. Desai quickly turned his attention to her, his voice softening. “Come back, honey. We’re not done yet.”
“Not done?” Meera shouted, her voice shaking with anger. “But I’m done, Desai! I’m done with you!”
My heart sank as I heard her use his surname for the first time that night. The familiarity was gone, replaced by a cold, cutting formality.
She turned to me, her eyes narrowing. “Get dressed and get out of this room, Krish,” she yelled. At the same time, she picked up Desai’s clothes from the floor and hurled them at him. “Is this your so-called love, Desai?” her voice trembled with rage and hurt.
Desai was now stunned. The confidence that I saw on his face a moment ago was shattered. He opened his mouth to speak, but Meera cut him off.
“What are you staring at?” she shouted, pulling his arm and forcing him out of the bed. I couldn’t help but notice how Meera was completely ignorant of the fact that she was still naked, and her breasts were juggling as she moved around the room, getting physical. Me and Desai had somehow managed to pull up our pants. But it was the last thing to be mattered at the moment.
I had already moved out of the bed, and Meera pushed both of us out of the room, slamming the door behind us.
Everything was happening too fast. Behind the closed door, I heard Meera crying, loud and unrestrained. She cursed Desai, then herself, her voice breaking with every word. I knocked on the door, my voice pleading.
“Open the door, Meera. Please.”
Desai knocked too, his tone desperate. “Open the door, Meera. I can explain.”
After a moment, the door flew open. Meera stood there, now wrapped in a towel, her face streaked with tears. And she grabbed Desai's hand and placed something on it. It was the necklace.
“Leave,” she said to Desai, her voice cold.
And she walked past us, heading straight to our bedroom, with both of us trailing behind her like shadows.
In the bedroom, she went straight to her wardrobe and pulled out some clothes. She turned to us, her eyes blazing.
“I’m done with both of you fuckers,” she shouted again. “I’m done with this life with you. I’m done with the friendship with you, Susheel fucking Desai.”
She turned to me, her voice shaking with fury. “You fucker, Krish. You said you weren’t good for me because you’d make me fuck other men. You said this moron would be the one for me.” She pointed at Desai as she spoke; her words cutting like a knife. “And what did he just do? He watched me get fucked by you! He made himself a cuckold on the same night he came to propose to me! Can you imagine what I’m going to end up as? A woman with a queue of men outside her room, all waiting for their chance to fuck me. Is that what you want for me? Is that what you’ve gloriously chosen for me?”
Her voice broke, and she wiped her tears angrily. “Now I understand what Ananya told us. You have it in you, Susheel... This adventure shit – it’s in you. You may believe I’m the one for you, but I believe you’re no better than Krish. You’re two sides of the same coin. Equal in weight. Equal in value. Equal in your twisted fantasies. And I’m not going to be a victim of your games anymore. I want to end it, damn it! Oh my God, what have I become?”
Meera broke down, her sobs echoing through the room. Desai and I stood there, speechless, the weight of her words crushing us. The night had spiralled out of control, and there was no going back.
I knew I had gotten carried away, swept up in the heat of the moment, and had become an accomplice in fulfilling Desai’s fantasy. Unknowingly, I had let things spiral far beyond any semblance of sense or control. The fact that we were all heavily drunk when it happened offered no excuse – the booze had evaporated, leaving behind only the harsh reality of our actions.
Desai, however, tried to defend himself, his voice pleading.
“It happened by mistake, Meera. I got carried away. I’m sorry. Please, let me talk to you..”
Meera’s voice softened a little but it was because she was tired. “I got carried away too, you dumbass. But I’m not talking about tonight. I’m talking about the future, Desai.” She paused to finish wearing the top and skirt, and walked over to us. “Believe me, Susheel. Please. You’ll end up getting carried away again and again. I’ve lived it already. I can look back now and see the signs – they were always there. You were always excited to play Krish in my bed. You were excited to be Krish. You were thrilled by the idea that he was a cuckold, a happy one. You always said we were a special couple, didn’t you? And today, you let him fuck me because you wanted to sell the idea that you too are okay with me being with another man. That’s it. You didn’t want me to think I’d become a chaste woman overnight. You wanted me to be the woman who could fuck other men and still be yours. Isn’t that what you want?”
Desai stammered, “I… I… didn’t mean any of it, Meera. I swear.”
But Meera wasn’t buying it. “You’re not realizing what you’ve done, Desai. You said you love me as a person. I want you to take a moment to think about what you’ve done. Just a minute of thinking would do. Think about your future. You’re not going to stop. Think about it and ask yourself if you’re going to stop. No, you won’t, Desai. You and I are not made for each other. Like Krish, you too deserve a woman who has the determination to say no to you when you come up with fantasies like this. If you don’t want such a partner, then go find someone else. I don’t want to be that partner.”
Her words were like a hammer, each one striking with precision and finality. As she went back to sit on the bed, Desai stood there in stunned silence, his usual confidence evaporating with time. He had no idea how to defend himself. Meera’s clarity in her allegations left had him speechless.
The room felt heavy, the air thick with unspoken regrets and the weight of irreversible decisions. I stood there, my own guilt gnawing at me, knowing I had played my part in this mess. Meera’s tears had dried, replaced by a steely determination that left no room for negotiation.
I stepped forward, my voice trembling as I apologized. “I’m sorry, Meera. I got carried away too. I didn’t have the wisdom to understand what I was doing. Maybe… maybe I was tired of the idea of you being with someone else. That’s why I chose him for you. But then… I couldn’t stop myself. It’s one thing that Desai allowed me to join him, but I was the one who took the opportunity. Like I was waiting for it. I know it doesn’t make sense now, but I’m just being honest.”
Meera’s eyes turned to me coldly. “I’m moving out of your life, Krish,” she said. “Just like you wanted.” She got up and walked closer, her presence commanding, and both Desai and I instinctively stepped back. “Get out of this room. Now.”
Desai and I exchanged a glance, but neither of us argued. We moved toward the door, our steps heavy with guilt and regret. Meera followed us, her gaze unwavering, and pushed us out of the bedroom before slamming the door shut. The sound echoed through the house, a final, deafening punctuation to the night’s chaos.
But then, just as quickly, the door reopened. Meera stood there.
“I’m leaving in the morning, Krish,” she said, her voice firm. “Don’t try to come after me.” With that, she slammed the door again.
Desai and I stood in the hall, the weight of what had just happened pressing down on us. Desai broke the silence first, his voice hollow.
“I messed it up. Big time.”
He reached for the glass on the table, but kept it back as he found it was empty. He grabbed the rum bottle and poured some into the glass. But he didn’t drink it. Instead, he held the glass in his hand, staring at the liquid as if it held some kind of answer. After a long moment, he placed it back on the table, untouched.
The house was silent except ticking sound of the wall clock. Desai and I stood there, two men brought low by their own recklessness.
Desai leaned against the wall, his voice hollow yet eerily calm. “Perhaps Meera is right, Krish.” He paused, staring at the floor. “She opened my eyes – again. All these fantasies, the kinks, the dominance… they twisted me into something I didn’t recognize.” He laughed bitterly. “That night I let my friend fuck Ananya… I was thrilled. I treated her like property, like I owned her enough to loan her out. Watching her with him… it wasn’t jealousy. It was power. And tonight?” He glanced at Meera’s closed door. “When I saw her dancing with you, I wasn’t jealous of you. I wanted to be you – Krish, the cuckold, the man who gets off on his wife’s pleasure with others. Pathetic, right?”
His words were sharp and self-loathing. “That wedding night, after you left… she came to my room. I am not sure if she has told you about it… but I think there’s no point in not talking about it. That night we had sex. During sex I was so excited from the effect of having watched her dancing with you at the wedding that I asked Meera to pretend like I was you. Not because I wanted her love – because I wanted to be the man she’d return to, even after fucking someone like me. Meera saw through it. She always does.” Desai’s voice softened. I could see he was broken from inside. As much as I was. “She’s right. I’d ruin her. Just like I ruined Ananya. For me, this is a game – the thrill of control, the rush of sharing. But for her? It’s hell. You know that hell. I can’t drag her into it again.”
He turned to me, “Loving her means letting her go. You tried to protect her by leaving. I have to do the same. Because if she stays… I’ll break her. And I can’t live with that.”
Desai shook his head and again knocked on Meera’s door, “Meera… I understand. I’m sorry.” His voice was trembling.
The door opened after a pause. Meera stood there, her face stripped of makeup and dried tears. She looked exhausted. “Go to sleep, Desai, Call it a day, please.” she said softly, no anger left in her voice.
Desai opened his mouth to say something, but she shook her head. “Sleep. We’re done.”
But she did not close the door. She waited.
Desai hesitated, and then nodded at her. He turned to nod at me too, and then proceeded to the other bedroom.
I stayed there, not knowing what to do. The only thing that held me together was that I was perhaps I was ready for worst already. But I wasn’t devoid of weight of guilt. Meera’s gaze turned to me, her expression unreadable. Without a word, she closed the door.
I slowly returned to the room. I looked at the bed, it was not much of a mess that I used to witness in the past after Desai and Meera's love making. But psychologically, the whole room was a mess. I stared at the bed for some time and then returned to the hall. I settled into the couch to call it a day, finally, though having no idea about what was about to follow in the morning.
When I woke up, the house felt different – emptier, quieter. Meera was already in the living room, her bag packed and waiting by the door. She stood there, her face calm but resolute, as if she had already made peace with her decision.
“I’m moving out,” she said, her voice steady but soft.
I sat up, my head still heavy from the night before. “Meera, I only wanted you to have a better life,” I said, my voice cracking. “But it all went so wrong. I’m sorry.”
She looked at me, her eyes searching mine. “I want to forgive you, Krish,” she said after a moment. “Because you helped me see Desai’s true colours. But I’m still angry – about everything else.”
Desai walked in then, and he looked at Meera with a sense of calmness in his eyes. “I’m sorry, Meera,” he said quietly. “I didn’t recognize the change in me. I might die single, but I won’t cross your path ever again.”
Meera nodded, her expression softening just a little.
“Thank you, Desai,” she said. “That’s all I needed to hear.”
Desai turned to me next, “Krish, I owe you an apology too,” he said. “Even though I didn’t get Meera in the end, I’ll always be inspired by the sacrifice you made for her. My promise to you remains the same for the rest of my life. Make a wish, and I’ll do everything in my power to make it happen.”
I shook my head. “You understanding what Meera said… it shows you’ve truly changed. I got carried away last night too, and it helped me see the danger of being in Meera’s life. As much as I love her, I need to let her live a peaceful life.” And I turned to Meera, “I think not you, it should be me, moving out of this house.”
“No, Krish,” Meera said quickly. “I know you volunteered to move out of my life. But I’m the one who needs to go. I’ve decided to move to Alpine Heights.”
She had made her final decision. She called a cab, and within minutes, it was waiting outside. She picked up her bag and turned to us one last time.
“Take care of yourselves,” she said coldly.
And then she was gone.
I sat on the couch, not knowing what to talk to Desai.
He stood there in silence for a long moment. And then he spoke.
“Meera has opened my eyes,” Desai told me, staring at the floor as he continued. “I never saw Ananya for a reason, Krish. Because it was me who made her sleep with my friend. My friend wanted to sleep with her, and I promised him that I would let him. And I did. I thought Ananya would enjoy it. She did, to some extent. But I’m sure she regretted it. That thought kept me from meeting her afterward.
Samarth, her husband, never enjoyed the feeling of being cuckolded. You and Meera were different. And I saw that as one of the many qualities that made Meera special. The bond you two had—I wanted that too. If she were to join me, I know I would have made her sleep with men of my choosing. And she wouldn’t regret it. I wouldn’t want her to regret it—that’s the point.”
I recalled his words again.
“I don’t know if you remember this, but you once told me that a cuckold becomes the winner when he forgives his wife and accepts her back after she’s been fucked by another man,” I said. “Looks like you sold me an idea but ended up buying it for yourself too.”
Desai shook his head. “I don’t know when this happened, Krish. I have become you. Meera was right.”
The silence prevailed between us and finally it was him who broke it. “I should go too,” he said, pulling out his phone to call a cab.
We didn’t say much as we waited for his ride. When it arrived, he turned to me, his hand extended. “Take care, Krish,” he said.
I shook his hand, nodding. “You too, Desai.”
I was not sure where he was heading. Shimoga. Mumbai. Or anywhere else. I didn’t care.
I sat in silence in my house and I kept reminding myself one thing. Meera was right. There was nothing debatable about her decision.
I spent the rest of the day alone, the house eerily quiet without Meera’s presence. The silence gave me space to think, to reflect on everything that had happened. Strangely, I felt calm. Perhaps I thought the worst was over.
Though Meera’s outburst had felt like hell in the moment, I realized it was necessary. It was the breaking point we all needed to finally see the truth about ourselves. Meera, Desai, and I – we had all been chasing something, trying to fit into roles we thought we were supposed to play. But the last night had stripped away the illusions. We had finally seen who we really were.
I sat by the window, staring outside to the sky, and let my thoughts wander. No matter how hard you try to learn about yourself, nothing can beat the lessons life teaches you. My life had been filled with experiments and experiences – some thrilling, some painful – all in the pursuit of understanding myself and Meera. But in the end, it wasn’t the experiments that taught me the truth. It was life itself.
I am a cuckold. There’s no denying it. It’s a part of me, a characteristic that has shaped so much of my life. But now, it’s time to put that part of me to sleep. I’ve lived that life. I’ve felt its highs and its crushing lows. And now, I’ve come to the end of it.
The last time Meera left me, I was consumed by a sense of loss. It felt like a piece of me had been ripped away, leaving behind a void I didn’t know how to fill. But this time was different. This time, there was peace. Meera was at peace with her decision. Desai was at peace with his. And, for the first time in a long time, I was at peace too.
I realized that love doesn’t always mean holding on. Sometimes, it means letting go – letting the people you care about find their own paths, even if it means walking away from yours. Meera deserved a life free from the chaos I had brought into it. Desai deserved a chance to grow, to become the man he was meant to be. And I? I deserved the chance to start over, to find a new version of myself – one that wasn’t defined by the fantasies of the past.
The days after the anniversary were calm, almost unnervingly so. I needed to move on and find a reason to help me move on. I googled a few pilgrimage spots away from Pune and decided on Varanasi. After booking a ticket on the earliest available flight, I packed a small bag. I chose not to bring my phone. The last call I made was to Nidhi.
I told her that I was taking a few weeks off for a long journey. I wouldn’t be available until I returned, but I didn’t know when. “Until then, please go and sit in my chair.”
Nidhi asked about Meera. I said she’s fine.
Nidhi asked if Meera would be there to manage the firm. I said she would be busy with her own work.
"That's why I said you should take care of it. I know you can do it, Nidhi."
Just as I was about to end the conversation, Nidhi stopped me. "Krish...Krish..."
"Yes?"
“You said you won’t be available for long. Can we meet before you go? I mean…”
Nidhi’s beautiful face and the affection she had for me came to my mind.
“No, Nidhi. That’s not needed. You’ll do well without me,” I said and ended the phone call.
I left my phone at home before heading to the airport. I didn’t need it. There were no messages to send, no apologies left unsaid – just the weight of my own thoughts and the open road or sky. I placed a note on my table, saying I would be away for a while – in case Meera thought about me and worried about my whereabouts.
That evening, I boarded the flight to Varanasi.
The city of Varanasi was full of noise. Temple bells kept ringing, and the air was filled with incense. I stayed in a small guesthouse near Assi Ghat and spent my days walking by the river. After a few days, I left for another ghat. I watched funerals and death rituals being held, with burning pyres in the river. I visited many temples, listening to prayers. I finally reached Kashi Vishwanath, and there I bowed my head – not to pray, but to let go. One evening, on a boat ride, an old boatman ran his fingers through his thick beard and said, “Everything burns here, sir; only the ashes remain.”
I kept roaming around the city. I did not find peace, but I felt something change inside me, and I felt like maybe that was enough.
One morning, I took a dip in the cold water of the Ganges. On the banks, I watched many sages with matted hair and deep eyes – both men and women – sitting in silence.
I wondered what they had left behind. Families? Regrets? Or just their very existence?
The thought compelled me to reflect on what I had come to leave behind.
Why did I push Meera away?
The question followed me like a shadow. I had told myself that it would give Meera a better life, freedom from the chaos I would never stop bringing into her life. But as I sat on the steps of Varanasi, watching devotees light lamps for the dead, I couldn’t help but question if I did it for Meera or for myself.
I wasn’t a man chasing spirituality. The remorse was going to hit me quietly, and the impact never seemed to quiet me.
Memories were returning. Meera's happy face in our happy times. Her laughter. Her busy hands in the kitchen. Her furious eyes when I refused to rethink my decision to separate.
I felt I was carrying a sense of sacrifice, and I felt I was wrong. It was cowardice. Maybe I was the sage who ran – not toward truth, but away from it.
One evening, an old monk sat beside me at a temple in Rishikesh. He didn’t speak, just offered a bowl of rice and lentils. As we ate, he pointed to a couple arguing near the river – a young man and woman, their voices and gestures frantic. The monk smiled. “Love is not a quiet river,” he said in Hindi. “It is the storm that shapes the mountains.”
I thought of Meera then – not as the woman I had lost, but as the storm I’d refused to endure.
I returned home after a month, my mind clearer but my heart still heavy. I turned on the phone but didn’t call Meera. I wanted to see her. I didn’t want to be denied over the phone. I drove myself to her apartment in Alpine Heights. When I reached Meera's place, I saw the house was locked, and suddenly, my head filled with fear. I thought of Desai. I wondered if he had come back for her and mended their differences. The thought felt like an ache.
I phoned Meera, but it went unanswered. I wondered if I should call Desai, but then decided to call Nidhi instead.
She asked me if I had returned. She was happy when I said yes. And she revealed that Meera had called her many times in the past few weeks, asking for any news about me.
I was sure Meera had something to tell me. And I didn’t know if it was good or bad.
My heart was already beating faster at the thought of it.
“I have some personal news to tell you, Krish,” Nidhi said. “I’m getting married.”
“Oh, really? That was quick!” I said, then added, “Congratulations, Nidhi!”
She revealed that Parvati had found a man for her through a matrimonial website.
“Matrimonial website? Don’t mind, but it feels kinda strange to me,” I said.
Nidhi laughed. “Even I am feeling the same. But somehow, it happened. I thought I shouldn’t make Mom worry about me. Apart from that, you know, I liked the boy.”
I could sense her happiness from her voice. She invited me to the engagement, scheduled for a month later.
As soon as the phone call ended, I heard a sound from behind.
“Krish!”
I turned, and Meera was standing there in a warm yellow gown. She looked as beautiful as ever. But her eyes were blazing, and before I could say a word, she stepped closer and slapped me.
“Where the fuck were you, Krish?” she shouted, her voice trembling with anger and something else I couldn’t quite place.
“I was on a pilgrimage,” I said, rubbing my cheek. “I needed time to think.”
“Fuck your pilgrimage!” she snapped. “You could’ve at least taken your phone. Do you have any idea how much I’ve tried to reach you?”
“What happened?” I asked, my stomach twisting with dread.
She took a deep breath. “I’m pregnant.”
The words hit me like a thunderbolt. I stared at her, stunned. “How?”
Meera stared back at me. “You don’t remember?”
The memory of the anniversary night flashed in my mind – the heat of the moment, the recklessness, the release. I had ejaculated inside her. I hadn’t thought about the consequences then, but now they were staring me in the face.
“I wanted to tell you first,” Meera said, her voice breaking. “Before anyone else.”
I swallowed hard, my mind racing. “This is… incredible news, Meera. But I’m not sure what you think about it. Is it too late for us?”
She shook her head, tears spilling down her cheeks. “I’m keeping it, Krish. I knew I was going to be pregnant from the first day. Because I love you, Krish. I’m not here to disrupt your peaceful life if that’s what you want. But I needed you to know. This is your child.”
Her words shattered the walls I’d built around my heart. “Meera,” I said, my voice trembling, “I’ve never stopped loving you. I never abandoned you. I pushed you away because I thought it would give you peace. But this… this changes everything.” My vision blurred as tears filled my eyes. I went on, “You know… the idea of being a parent, of being parents together… we can do it, can’t we? It makes me want to embrace you again. Meera, be my love once more. I love you.”
Meera’s hands trembled as she cupped my face, her tears warm against my skin. “You idiot,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “You don’t get to decide what peace is for me. We decide. Together.”
Her words were delivered directly into my heart. And I could sense them unravelling something in me – a knot of guilt and fear I had been carrying for more than a month. I pulled Meera close, tucked my fingers deep into her hair, and pressed my lips to her forehead. I could smell the aroma of her shampoo.
“I’m sorry,” I murmured into her shoulder. “For everything.”
She leaned back for a moment. “You don’t get to run anymore, Krish. Not from me. And certainly not from this.” Her hand drifted to her stomach.
“I won’t,” I promised, and I kissed her. She opened her lips and welcomed me.
We stood just outside her door, kissing madly. We stopped as we heard a footstep. A woman in her forties had stepped out of her flat.
Meera smiled at her. “My husband.”
The woman smiled back at Meera, shyly.
“Come,” Meera invited me into her house.
As I entered, I quickly noticed that the whole house had been repainted. I stood there, watching it. It felt nothing like what I had seen last time. A whole new world. New furniture. Houseplants. Mats. Flower vases. It looked like a house full of life.
Meera turned to me, her eyes teasing. I dropped my bag on the floor and embraced her. Our lips met for quick sharing of warmth.
As the kiss ended, Meera smiled with a sigh of relief. “I thought I lost you, baby,” she whispered. “Promise me you’ll never leave me.”
The respite in her eyes told me she had never stopped loving me.
“I promise, baby.” The words flew from my heart.
She threw her arms around my neck. I lifted her, putting my arms around her butt, and hurriedly entered the bedroom. The room was painted in soft blue, replacing the old memories.
“Why the blue?” I asked.
She smiled. “It’s the colour of the sky after a storm. A never-lost hope for a new beginning.”
I saw love in her eyes. And I kissed her – slow and deliberate – a promise sealed without words. Then, I let her sit on the bed carefully. She knew my carefulness.
“I’m okay,” she said. That was how she welcomed me back into her bed.
I climbed onto the bed, and we made love slowly. As I pushed my dick into her, fucking her slowly and deliberately, her eyes remained on me, as if she didn’t want to lose me even for a moment.
As we lay spent on the bed, I asked her what she would have done if I hadn’t come back.
“I would have still kept the baby,” she said readily.
“And Desai?” I asked again.
“Who’s that?” Meera asked with a smile.
In the weeks that followed, we didn’t speak of Desai or the past. And he didn’t contact us. But one day, I decided to call him and share the news of Meera's pregnancy. He congratulated me. And he said he meant it.
We didn’t speak much, but from the way he sounded, I felt he was at peace. I was sure he would have felt the same about me.
One day, I got a call from Maithrei. She wanted to discuss providing security services for her new apartment building in the city. She said she had been too busy with it to get in touch with me until she really needed me. I promised that we could work it out. I said sending her manager to my office would do.
When I revealed that Meera was pregnant, she congratulated me.
“New responsibility. New Krish?” she asked.
I waited for a moment and then said, “Yes.”
One evening, as we sat on the balcony floor, Meera asked me about the gods in the temples of Varanasi. I tried to recollect, but I couldn’t answer.
Meera stared at me with suspicion.
“Did you really go there and spend a month?”
I gave her a blank look and rolled my eyes with a sheepish smile.
“To be honest,” I said, “I hardly thought about anything other than you the whole month.”
“I can tell that.”
Meera laughed, and then wrapped my arm around her. We watched the sunset as she leaned her head against my shoulder.
“Krish,” she asked, “do you think we’ll mess it up again?”
I intertwined my fingers with hers, our palms pressed together like a bond.
“Probably,” I said, looking into her eyes. “But we’ll fix it. Together.”
Meera took my hand and placed it on her belly under her top. I thought she was trying to make me feel the baby kicking.
“The movements start after four months, baby,” I said. “I Googled it.”
“So you’re curious about it,” Meera smiled. “As curious as I am.”
I smiled. “Yes.”
Some stories end. Ours simply turned the page.
As soon as I slid my pants a few inches down from my waist, my throbbing erection – though concealed in my underwear – suddenly left me embarrassed, wondering if Meera would think I had fallen into Desai’s trap again, succumbing to his fantasies. But I thought that I was just a stranger, an external element introduced to heighten his mating game with his woman.
“Lower it, Krish,” Desai said again. “Let her see how excited you are to witness this. Let her see what she does to you.”
Before he finished, I had started to lower my underwear as well. My dick sprang free, throbbing and hard, a testament to the conflicting emotions swirling inside me. I quickly bent down and kissed Meera deeply, as if to reclaim her. Meera responded, her lips soft and yielding, her breath warm against mine.
Desai was watching us, and I heard his voice soon. “Meera,” he said, his voice low and coaxing. “Hold him. Touch him. He’s here for you. Let him feel your care.”
"Please... Susheel... no...." Meera's voice was a whisper as she went on, "I can’t believe… how this is all happening.”
Desai’s voice broke through the air, calm but commanding. “He’s still your husband, honey,” he said, his tone almost tender, as if reminding Meera of something she’d forgotten. His hand rested on her hip, possessive yet gentle, as he guided her attention toward me. “Show him some care.”
Meera’s eyes flickered to mine, and for a moment, the room seemed to shrink, the air thickening with unspoken tension. She hesitated, her lips parting slightly, but then she reached out, her fingers brushing against my thigh before wrapping around my hardening length. It sent a jolt of electricity through me. Her touch was tentative at first, but it quickly grew firmer, more deliberate, as she began to stroke me.
I bent down, drawn to her like a moth to a flame, and pressed my lips to hers. Meera responded immediately, her mouth opening to mine, her tongue meeting mine with a hunger that surprised me. Her saliva was sweet, intoxicating, and I lost myself in the taste of her, in the warmth of her body so close to mine. Her hand moved faster, her grip tightening as our kisses deepened, and I felt myself surrendering to the moment, to her.
"It feels like a dream. Am I in someone else's dream?" I heard Meera blurt.
Desai chuckled. “You’re in my dream, my dream girl,” he said, lifting her legs up in the air, and his hands gripping her hips as he began to move again in a slow steady rhythm.
Meera’s hand on me tightened, her strokes slowing down to match the pace of Desai’s thrusts, and I still I felt myself being pushed to an edge, caught between the physical pleasure of her touch and the emotional weight of the moment.
I leaned down to kiss her again, but this time, she was the one who pulled away, her head tilting back as another moan escaped her lips. “Aaaah…!” she cried, her body trembling beneath us both. Desai’s movement had begun to grow forceful, more urgent, and Meera’s cries filled the room, a symphony of pleasure and surrender.
I watched her, my heart pounding, my own release building as her hand continued to move. This was it – the moment I had both feared and longed for. The moment that would forever be etched into my memory, a final, unflinching glimpse of what I had lost.
After fucking Meera to the point where her grip on my dick faltered, Desai paused. He turned her knees to her right, the movement deliberate, and slapped her round ass with a sharp, echoing sound.
“This roundness,” he said, his voice low and appreciative, “will never stop exciting me.”
He bent down, pressing a kiss to the top of her ass cheek, his lips lingering for a moment before he straightened up.
Meera’s legs were turned to her right, but her torso and head remained facing upward. Desai guided himself back into her from behind, and as soon as he began thrusting, her whole body shook. The force of his movements turned her completely to her right, and now she was facing me.
Her eyes met mine, hazy but focused, and without hesitation, she reached out and took my dick in her hand again. Her touch was firm, almost possessive, as if she needed to hold onto something real amidst the chaos. Desai’s rhythm was relentless, each thrust sending tremors through her body, but Meera’s grip on me never loosened.
Meera was lost in the pleasure Desai was giving her, her body trembling with every powerful thrust. Desai was in complete control, dominating her with a rhythm that left her breathless and moaning. I watched, my own desire burning hotter, unable to stand by as just a spectator. I had given in too far to turn back now.
Slowly, I moved closer, my fingers threading through her hair as I gently guided her head toward me. Her lips parted, and I pushed my dick into her mouth, inch by inch, careful not to overwhelm her. The warmth of her mouth sent a shiver through me, and I couldn’t help but groan.
Desai, caught off guard, stopped mid-thrust, his eyes widening as he watched me take control. For a moment, the room was silent except for Meera’s muffled sounds and the heavy breathing of all three of us. Desai’s expression shifted from surprise to something darker, more intense, as he realized what was happening.
Meera’s eyes flickered up to mine, hazy but aware, and she didn’t resist. Instead, she began to move her lips, taking me deeper, her hands gripping my thighs for balance.
“Wow. That’s some stuff,” Desai said, his voice low and appreciative, before he started fucking her again. His thrusts were powerful, deliberate, each one driving Meera closer to the edge. Her movements lost their balance, her body trembling under the force of his rhythm, but I was determined not to turn back now. I held her head firmly; my fingers tangled in her hair, and began to move my hips, thrusting into her mouth with a steady pace.
Soon, our movements fell into sync – Desai pounding into her from behind while I claimed her mouth, our rhythms merging into a single, relentless force. My thrusts were less forceful compared to Desai’s powerful blows, but they were no less insistent. Meera’s body writhed between us, her moans muffled but unmistakable, her hands gripping my thighs for support.
Desai’s hands roamed her body, caressing her skin with a possessiveness that was impossible to ignore. A couple of times, he reached around to squeeze her breasts, his touch firm and demanding. It felt like he was determined to utilize this opportunity to its fullest, to push Meera beyond her own limits. He wasn’t just fucking her; he was unravelling her, pulling out a side of her she might not have even known existed.
It was as if he wanted to awaken a demon within her, to transform her into the sexual property he desired – a woman so consumed by pleasure and submission that I would never stand a chance of reclaiming her. His every touch, every thrust, was calculated to break down her inhibitions, to make her his in every way possible.
Meera’s body responded to both of us, her moans growing louder, her movements more desperate. She was caught between us, her pleasure building to a crescendo, and I could feel the tension in the room reaching its peak. Desai’s eyes met mine over her trembling form, and in that moment, I knew this wasn’t just about pleasure – it was about possession, about dominance, about ensuring that Meera would never be the same again.
And as I thrust into her mouth, my own release building, I couldn’t help but wonder if this was what Desai had wanted all along – to push her beyond her own understanding, to make her his in a way that was irreversible.
Desai stopped fucking her abruptly, pulling out with a deliberate slowness that left Meera gasping. He shifted his attention to her legs, kissing along her thighs with a tenderness that contrasted sharply with the intensity of what had just happened. Meera lay sideways, her body still trembling, as I continued to thrust into her mouth, my hands gripping her hair to keep her steady.
Desai’s voice broke through the heavy silence, low and teasing. “She’s making me jealous,” he said, his eyes flickering to mine. “I want to be you, Krish.”
I withdrew from Meera’s mouth, my breath ragged, and Desai immediately took my place. He leaned down, capturing her lips in a deep, possessive kiss before pulling back just enough to speak.
“You’re the hottest woman I’ve ever seen in my life,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. Then, without warning, he shoved his dick into her throat, his movements rough and demanding. I was stunned by the urgent manner in which he kissed her mouth, despite knowing that her mouth was stuffed by my dick moments ago. I could tell he even got the taste of my precum from her lips. He was completely overwhelmed by lust.
As Desai claimed her mouth, I moved behind her, taking his previous position. I guided myself into her pussy, and my dick slid into her wet hole. I knew the warmth inside her was not just her, but the feel of Desai's precum. My thrusts slow at first but quickly growing more urgent. Meera was lying sideways, her head held firmly by Desai, leaving her unable to object or resist. Her body responded instinctively, her moans muffled by Desai’s relentless pace.
To my surprise, I couldn’t hold back any longer. The combination of her warmth, the intensity of the moment, and the weight of everything we’d been through overwhelmed me. I came inside her, a heavy, almost liberating release that left me breathless. I didn’t make a sound, didn’t let on what had happened – I simply let the pleasure wash over me, my frustration and longing spilling out in that single, silent moment.
Desai, still fucking her mouth, seemed oblivious – or perhaps he simply didn’t care. His voice was low and possessive as he spoke between thrusts. “We’re going to be wild, together, Meera,” he said, his tone leaving no room for doubt. “You and I – this is just the beginning.”
Meera’s body trembled between us, her moans growing louder, more desperate. She was completely at our mercy, caught in a whirlwind of pleasure and submission.
Meera suddenly let out a sharp, unrestrained moan, her body arching as she came. The waves of pleasure seemed to consume her, her trembling hands gripping the sheets as she rode it out. Desai noticed immediately, his eyes darkening with satisfaction. “You’ve come, baby,” he said, his voice a mix of awe and possessiveness. “Wow.”
He pulled out of her mouth, his breath heavy, and began jerking himself furiously. Within moments, he shot a thick load onto her face, the warmth splattering across her skin. Some drops fell into her gasping mouth, and Desai’s voice was low and commanding as he said, “Swallow it, baby. Swallow the taste. This is my love. Swallow it.”
Meera, still catching her breath, obeyed instinctively, her tongue flicking out to taste him. The sight was both intimate and degrading, a stark reminder of the power Desai held over her. Once the cum bath ended, I pulled out of her, my own body spent and trembling. Desai took a moment to catch his breath, his chest rising and falling as he watched Meera with a satisfied smirk. I felt he was waiting for her to wipe clean her face so that he could kiss her again. Then I felt that he was just watching her cum-drenched face.
Meera sat up slowly with shaky movements and a face still glistening. Her eyes were wide with a mix of exhaustion and something deeper that felt like resignation or maybe acceptance. The room was silent except for our heavy breathing as the weight of what had just happened settled over us like a thick fog.
Meera sat up abruptly and I saw the shock on her face. Cum drops from her cheeks oozed down onto her breasts. She reached for her crumpled dress on the bed and quickly wiped her face with it. Then she looked at Desai and me alternately, her eyes suddenly burning with a fury that could have set the room ablaze.
Before I could say a word, she jumped out of the bed and nearly ran to the washroom. She didn’t bother to close the door, and soon the sound of the shower running filled the silence. I stood there frozen with a sinking feeling in my chest. Something was wrong. Terribly wrong.
Desai, however, seemed unfazed. He casually rubbed his dick, a satisfied grin spreading across his face. “It’s a wonderful beginning, isn’t it?” he asked, his tone dripping with pride.
I stared at him, my voice trembling. “I think she didn’t like it.”
Desai’s grin faltered for a moment, but before he could respond, Meera stormed out of the washroom. She had a towel wrapped tightly around her body, her hair damp and her eyes blazing. Desai quickly turned his attention to her, his voice softening. “Come back, honey. We’re not done yet.”
“Not done?” Meera shouted, her voice shaking with anger. “But I’m done, Desai! I’m done with you!”
My heart sank as I heard her use his surname for the first time that night. The familiarity was gone, replaced by a cold, cutting formality.
She turned to me, her eyes narrowing. “Get dressed and get out of this room, Krish,” she yelled. At the same time, she picked up Desai’s clothes from the floor and hurled them at him. “Is this your so-called love, Desai?” her voice trembled with rage and hurt.
Desai was now stunned. The confidence that I saw on his face a moment ago was shattered. He opened his mouth to speak, but Meera cut him off.
“What are you staring at?” she shouted, pulling his arm and forcing him out of the bed. I couldn’t help but notice how Meera was completely ignorant of the fact that she was still naked, and her breasts were juggling as she moved around the room, getting physical. Me and Desai had somehow managed to pull up our pants. But it was the last thing to be mattered at the moment.
I had already moved out of the bed, and Meera pushed both of us out of the room, slamming the door behind us.
Everything was happening too fast. Behind the closed door, I heard Meera crying, loud and unrestrained. She cursed Desai, then herself, her voice breaking with every word. I knocked on the door, my voice pleading.
“Open the door, Meera. Please.”
Desai knocked too, his tone desperate. “Open the door, Meera. I can explain.”
After a moment, the door flew open. Meera stood there, now wrapped in a towel, her face streaked with tears. And she grabbed Desai's hand and placed something on it. It was the necklace.
“Leave,” she said to Desai, her voice cold.
And she walked past us, heading straight to our bedroom, with both of us trailing behind her like shadows.
In the bedroom, she went straight to her wardrobe and pulled out some clothes. She turned to us, her eyes blazing.
“I’m done with both of you fuckers,” she shouted again. “I’m done with this life with you. I’m done with the friendship with you, Susheel fucking Desai.”
She turned to me, her voice shaking with fury. “You fucker, Krish. You said you weren’t good for me because you’d make me fuck other men. You said this moron would be the one for me.” She pointed at Desai as she spoke; her words cutting like a knife. “And what did he just do? He watched me get fucked by you! He made himself a cuckold on the same night he came to propose to me! Can you imagine what I’m going to end up as? A woman with a queue of men outside her room, all waiting for their chance to fuck me. Is that what you want for me? Is that what you’ve gloriously chosen for me?”
Her voice broke, and she wiped her tears angrily. “Now I understand what Ananya told us. You have it in you, Susheel... This adventure shit – it’s in you. You may believe I’m the one for you, but I believe you’re no better than Krish. You’re two sides of the same coin. Equal in weight. Equal in value. Equal in your twisted fantasies. And I’m not going to be a victim of your games anymore. I want to end it, damn it! Oh my God, what have I become?”
Meera broke down, her sobs echoing through the room. Desai and I stood there, speechless, the weight of her words crushing us. The night had spiralled out of control, and there was no going back.
I knew I had gotten carried away, swept up in the heat of the moment, and had become an accomplice in fulfilling Desai’s fantasy. Unknowingly, I had let things spiral far beyond any semblance of sense or control. The fact that we were all heavily drunk when it happened offered no excuse – the booze had evaporated, leaving behind only the harsh reality of our actions.
Desai, however, tried to defend himself, his voice pleading.
“It happened by mistake, Meera. I got carried away. I’m sorry. Please, let me talk to you..”
Meera’s voice softened a little but it was because she was tired. “I got carried away too, you dumbass. But I’m not talking about tonight. I’m talking about the future, Desai.” She paused to finish wearing the top and skirt, and walked over to us. “Believe me, Susheel. Please. You’ll end up getting carried away again and again. I’ve lived it already. I can look back now and see the signs – they were always there. You were always excited to play Krish in my bed. You were excited to be Krish. You were thrilled by the idea that he was a cuckold, a happy one. You always said we were a special couple, didn’t you? And today, you let him fuck me because you wanted to sell the idea that you too are okay with me being with another man. That’s it. You didn’t want me to think I’d become a chaste woman overnight. You wanted me to be the woman who could fuck other men and still be yours. Isn’t that what you want?”
Desai stammered, “I… I… didn’t mean any of it, Meera. I swear.”
But Meera wasn’t buying it. “You’re not realizing what you’ve done, Desai. You said you love me as a person. I want you to take a moment to think about what you’ve done. Just a minute of thinking would do. Think about your future. You’re not going to stop. Think about it and ask yourself if you’re going to stop. No, you won’t, Desai. You and I are not made for each other. Like Krish, you too deserve a woman who has the determination to say no to you when you come up with fantasies like this. If you don’t want such a partner, then go find someone else. I don’t want to be that partner.”
Her words were like a hammer, each one striking with precision and finality. As she went back to sit on the bed, Desai stood there in stunned silence, his usual confidence evaporating with time. He had no idea how to defend himself. Meera’s clarity in her allegations left had him speechless.
The room felt heavy, the air thick with unspoken regrets and the weight of irreversible decisions. I stood there, my own guilt gnawing at me, knowing I had played my part in this mess. Meera’s tears had dried, replaced by a steely determination that left no room for negotiation.
I stepped forward, my voice trembling as I apologized. “I’m sorry, Meera. I got carried away too. I didn’t have the wisdom to understand what I was doing. Maybe… maybe I was tired of the idea of you being with someone else. That’s why I chose him for you. But then… I couldn’t stop myself. It’s one thing that Desai allowed me to join him, but I was the one who took the opportunity. Like I was waiting for it. I know it doesn’t make sense now, but I’m just being honest.”
Meera’s eyes turned to me coldly. “I’m moving out of your life, Krish,” she said. “Just like you wanted.” She got up and walked closer, her presence commanding, and both Desai and I instinctively stepped back. “Get out of this room. Now.”
Desai and I exchanged a glance, but neither of us argued. We moved toward the door, our steps heavy with guilt and regret. Meera followed us, her gaze unwavering, and pushed us out of the bedroom before slamming the door shut. The sound echoed through the house, a final, deafening punctuation to the night’s chaos.
But then, just as quickly, the door reopened. Meera stood there.
“I’m leaving in the morning, Krish,” she said, her voice firm. “Don’t try to come after me.” With that, she slammed the door again.
Desai and I stood in the hall, the weight of what had just happened pressing down on us. Desai broke the silence first, his voice hollow.
“I messed it up. Big time.”
He reached for the glass on the table, but kept it back as he found it was empty. He grabbed the rum bottle and poured some into the glass. But he didn’t drink it. Instead, he held the glass in his hand, staring at the liquid as if it held some kind of answer. After a long moment, he placed it back on the table, untouched.
The house was silent except ticking sound of the wall clock. Desai and I stood there, two men brought low by their own recklessness.
Desai leaned against the wall, his voice hollow yet eerily calm. “Perhaps Meera is right, Krish.” He paused, staring at the floor. “She opened my eyes – again. All these fantasies, the kinks, the dominance… they twisted me into something I didn’t recognize.” He laughed bitterly. “That night I let my friend fuck Ananya… I was thrilled. I treated her like property, like I owned her enough to loan her out. Watching her with him… it wasn’t jealousy. It was power. And tonight?” He glanced at Meera’s closed door. “When I saw her dancing with you, I wasn’t jealous of you. I wanted to be you – Krish, the cuckold, the man who gets off on his wife’s pleasure with others. Pathetic, right?”
His words were sharp and self-loathing. “That wedding night, after you left… she came to my room. I am not sure if she has told you about it… but I think there’s no point in not talking about it. That night we had sex. During sex I was so excited from the effect of having watched her dancing with you at the wedding that I asked Meera to pretend like I was you. Not because I wanted her love – because I wanted to be the man she’d return to, even after fucking someone like me. Meera saw through it. She always does.” Desai’s voice softened. I could see he was broken from inside. As much as I was. “She’s right. I’d ruin her. Just like I ruined Ananya. For me, this is a game – the thrill of control, the rush of sharing. But for her? It’s hell. You know that hell. I can’t drag her into it again.”
He turned to me, “Loving her means letting her go. You tried to protect her by leaving. I have to do the same. Because if she stays… I’ll break her. And I can’t live with that.”
Desai shook his head and again knocked on Meera’s door, “Meera… I understand. I’m sorry.” His voice was trembling.
The door opened after a pause. Meera stood there, her face stripped of makeup and dried tears. She looked exhausted. “Go to sleep, Desai, Call it a day, please.” she said softly, no anger left in her voice.
Desai opened his mouth to say something, but she shook her head. “Sleep. We’re done.”
But she did not close the door. She waited.
Desai hesitated, and then nodded at her. He turned to nod at me too, and then proceeded to the other bedroom.
I stayed there, not knowing what to do. The only thing that held me together was that I was perhaps I was ready for worst already. But I wasn’t devoid of weight of guilt. Meera’s gaze turned to me, her expression unreadable. Without a word, she closed the door.
I slowly returned to the room. I looked at the bed, it was not much of a mess that I used to witness in the past after Desai and Meera's love making. But psychologically, the whole room was a mess. I stared at the bed for some time and then returned to the hall. I settled into the couch to call it a day, finally, though having no idea about what was about to follow in the morning.
When I woke up, the house felt different – emptier, quieter. Meera was already in the living room, her bag packed and waiting by the door. She stood there, her face calm but resolute, as if she had already made peace with her decision.
“I’m moving out,” she said, her voice steady but soft.
I sat up, my head still heavy from the night before. “Meera, I only wanted you to have a better life,” I said, my voice cracking. “But it all went so wrong. I’m sorry.”
She looked at me, her eyes searching mine. “I want to forgive you, Krish,” she said after a moment. “Because you helped me see Desai’s true colours. But I’m still angry – about everything else.”
Desai walked in then, and he looked at Meera with a sense of calmness in his eyes. “I’m sorry, Meera,” he said quietly. “I didn’t recognize the change in me. I might die single, but I won’t cross your path ever again.”
Meera nodded, her expression softening just a little.
“Thank you, Desai,” she said. “That’s all I needed to hear.”
Desai turned to me next, “Krish, I owe you an apology too,” he said. “Even though I didn’t get Meera in the end, I’ll always be inspired by the sacrifice you made for her. My promise to you remains the same for the rest of my life. Make a wish, and I’ll do everything in my power to make it happen.”
I shook my head. “You understanding what Meera said… it shows you’ve truly changed. I got carried away last night too, and it helped me see the danger of being in Meera’s life. As much as I love her, I need to let her live a peaceful life.” And I turned to Meera, “I think not you, it should be me, moving out of this house.”
“No, Krish,” Meera said quickly. “I know you volunteered to move out of my life. But I’m the one who needs to go. I’ve decided to move to Alpine Heights.”
She had made her final decision. She called a cab, and within minutes, it was waiting outside. She picked up her bag and turned to us one last time.
“Take care of yourselves,” she said coldly.
And then she was gone.
I sat on the couch, not knowing what to talk to Desai.
He stood there in silence for a long moment. And then he spoke.
“Meera has opened my eyes,” Desai told me, staring at the floor as he continued. “I never saw Ananya for a reason, Krish. Because it was me who made her sleep with my friend. My friend wanted to sleep with her, and I promised him that I would let him. And I did. I thought Ananya would enjoy it. She did, to some extent. But I’m sure she regretted it. That thought kept me from meeting her afterward.
Samarth, her husband, never enjoyed the feeling of being cuckolded. You and Meera were different. And I saw that as one of the many qualities that made Meera special. The bond you two had—I wanted that too. If she were to join me, I know I would have made her sleep with men of my choosing. And she wouldn’t regret it. I wouldn’t want her to regret it—that’s the point.”
I recalled his words again.
“I don’t know if you remember this, but you once told me that a cuckold becomes the winner when he forgives his wife and accepts her back after she’s been fucked by another man,” I said. “Looks like you sold me an idea but ended up buying it for yourself too.”
Desai shook his head. “I don’t know when this happened, Krish. I have become you. Meera was right.”
The silence prevailed between us and finally it was him who broke it. “I should go too,” he said, pulling out his phone to call a cab.
We didn’t say much as we waited for his ride. When it arrived, he turned to me, his hand extended. “Take care, Krish,” he said.
I shook his hand, nodding. “You too, Desai.”
I was not sure where he was heading. Shimoga. Mumbai. Or anywhere else. I didn’t care.
I sat in silence in my house and I kept reminding myself one thing. Meera was right. There was nothing debatable about her decision.
I spent the rest of the day alone, the house eerily quiet without Meera’s presence. The silence gave me space to think, to reflect on everything that had happened. Strangely, I felt calm. Perhaps I thought the worst was over.
Though Meera’s outburst had felt like hell in the moment, I realized it was necessary. It was the breaking point we all needed to finally see the truth about ourselves. Meera, Desai, and I – we had all been chasing something, trying to fit into roles we thought we were supposed to play. But the last night had stripped away the illusions. We had finally seen who we really were.
I sat by the window, staring outside to the sky, and let my thoughts wander. No matter how hard you try to learn about yourself, nothing can beat the lessons life teaches you. My life had been filled with experiments and experiences – some thrilling, some painful – all in the pursuit of understanding myself and Meera. But in the end, it wasn’t the experiments that taught me the truth. It was life itself.
I am a cuckold. There’s no denying it. It’s a part of me, a characteristic that has shaped so much of my life. But now, it’s time to put that part of me to sleep. I’ve lived that life. I’ve felt its highs and its crushing lows. And now, I’ve come to the end of it.
The last time Meera left me, I was consumed by a sense of loss. It felt like a piece of me had been ripped away, leaving behind a void I didn’t know how to fill. But this time was different. This time, there was peace. Meera was at peace with her decision. Desai was at peace with his. And, for the first time in a long time, I was at peace too.
I realized that love doesn’t always mean holding on. Sometimes, it means letting go – letting the people you care about find their own paths, even if it means walking away from yours. Meera deserved a life free from the chaos I had brought into it. Desai deserved a chance to grow, to become the man he was meant to be. And I? I deserved the chance to start over, to find a new version of myself – one that wasn’t defined by the fantasies of the past.
The days after the anniversary were calm, almost unnervingly so. I needed to move on and find a reason to help me move on. I googled a few pilgrimage spots away from Pune and decided on Varanasi. After booking a ticket on the earliest available flight, I packed a small bag. I chose not to bring my phone. The last call I made was to Nidhi.
I told her that I was taking a few weeks off for a long journey. I wouldn’t be available until I returned, but I didn’t know when. “Until then, please go and sit in my chair.”
Nidhi asked about Meera. I said she’s fine.
Nidhi asked if Meera would be there to manage the firm. I said she would be busy with her own work.
"That's why I said you should take care of it. I know you can do it, Nidhi."
Just as I was about to end the conversation, Nidhi stopped me. "Krish...Krish..."
"Yes?"
“You said you won’t be available for long. Can we meet before you go? I mean…”
Nidhi’s beautiful face and the affection she had for me came to my mind.
“No, Nidhi. That’s not needed. You’ll do well without me,” I said and ended the phone call.
I left my phone at home before heading to the airport. I didn’t need it. There were no messages to send, no apologies left unsaid – just the weight of my own thoughts and the open road or sky. I placed a note on my table, saying I would be away for a while – in case Meera thought about me and worried about my whereabouts.
That evening, I boarded the flight to Varanasi.
The city of Varanasi was full of noise. Temple bells kept ringing, and the air was filled with incense. I stayed in a small guesthouse near Assi Ghat and spent my days walking by the river. After a few days, I left for another ghat. I watched funerals and death rituals being held, with burning pyres in the river. I visited many temples, listening to prayers. I finally reached Kashi Vishwanath, and there I bowed my head – not to pray, but to let go. One evening, on a boat ride, an old boatman ran his fingers through his thick beard and said, “Everything burns here, sir; only the ashes remain.”
I kept roaming around the city. I did not find peace, but I felt something change inside me, and I felt like maybe that was enough.
One morning, I took a dip in the cold water of the Ganges. On the banks, I watched many sages with matted hair and deep eyes – both men and women – sitting in silence.
I wondered what they had left behind. Families? Regrets? Or just their very existence?
The thought compelled me to reflect on what I had come to leave behind.
Why did I push Meera away?
The question followed me like a shadow. I had told myself that it would give Meera a better life, freedom from the chaos I would never stop bringing into her life. But as I sat on the steps of Varanasi, watching devotees light lamps for the dead, I couldn’t help but question if I did it for Meera or for myself.
I wasn’t a man chasing spirituality. The remorse was going to hit me quietly, and the impact never seemed to quiet me.
Memories were returning. Meera's happy face in our happy times. Her laughter. Her busy hands in the kitchen. Her furious eyes when I refused to rethink my decision to separate.
I felt I was carrying a sense of sacrifice, and I felt I was wrong. It was cowardice. Maybe I was the sage who ran – not toward truth, but away from it.
One evening, an old monk sat beside me at a temple in Rishikesh. He didn’t speak, just offered a bowl of rice and lentils. As we ate, he pointed to a couple arguing near the river – a young man and woman, their voices and gestures frantic. The monk smiled. “Love is not a quiet river,” he said in Hindi. “It is the storm that shapes the mountains.”
I thought of Meera then – not as the woman I had lost, but as the storm I’d refused to endure.
I returned home after a month, my mind clearer but my heart still heavy. I turned on the phone but didn’t call Meera. I wanted to see her. I didn’t want to be denied over the phone. I drove myself to her apartment in Alpine Heights. When I reached Meera's place, I saw the house was locked, and suddenly, my head filled with fear. I thought of Desai. I wondered if he had come back for her and mended their differences. The thought felt like an ache.
I phoned Meera, but it went unanswered. I wondered if I should call Desai, but then decided to call Nidhi instead.
She asked me if I had returned. She was happy when I said yes. And she revealed that Meera had called her many times in the past few weeks, asking for any news about me.
I was sure Meera had something to tell me. And I didn’t know if it was good or bad.
My heart was already beating faster at the thought of it.
“I have some personal news to tell you, Krish,” Nidhi said. “I’m getting married.”
“Oh, really? That was quick!” I said, then added, “Congratulations, Nidhi!”
She revealed that Parvati had found a man for her through a matrimonial website.
“Matrimonial website? Don’t mind, but it feels kinda strange to me,” I said.
Nidhi laughed. “Even I am feeling the same. But somehow, it happened. I thought I shouldn’t make Mom worry about me. Apart from that, you know, I liked the boy.”
I could sense her happiness from her voice. She invited me to the engagement, scheduled for a month later.
As soon as the phone call ended, I heard a sound from behind.
“Krish!”
I turned, and Meera was standing there in a warm yellow gown. She looked as beautiful as ever. But her eyes were blazing, and before I could say a word, she stepped closer and slapped me.
“Where the fuck were you, Krish?” she shouted, her voice trembling with anger and something else I couldn’t quite place.
“I was on a pilgrimage,” I said, rubbing my cheek. “I needed time to think.”
“Fuck your pilgrimage!” she snapped. “You could’ve at least taken your phone. Do you have any idea how much I’ve tried to reach you?”
“What happened?” I asked, my stomach twisting with dread.
She took a deep breath. “I’m pregnant.”
The words hit me like a thunderbolt. I stared at her, stunned. “How?”
Meera stared back at me. “You don’t remember?”
The memory of the anniversary night flashed in my mind – the heat of the moment, the recklessness, the release. I had ejaculated inside her. I hadn’t thought about the consequences then, but now they were staring me in the face.
“I wanted to tell you first,” Meera said, her voice breaking. “Before anyone else.”
I swallowed hard, my mind racing. “This is… incredible news, Meera. But I’m not sure what you think about it. Is it too late for us?”
She shook her head, tears spilling down her cheeks. “I’m keeping it, Krish. I knew I was going to be pregnant from the first day. Because I love you, Krish. I’m not here to disrupt your peaceful life if that’s what you want. But I needed you to know. This is your child.”
Her words shattered the walls I’d built around my heart. “Meera,” I said, my voice trembling, “I’ve never stopped loving you. I never abandoned you. I pushed you away because I thought it would give you peace. But this… this changes everything.” My vision blurred as tears filled my eyes. I went on, “You know… the idea of being a parent, of being parents together… we can do it, can’t we? It makes me want to embrace you again. Meera, be my love once more. I love you.”
Meera’s hands trembled as she cupped my face, her tears warm against my skin. “You idiot,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “You don’t get to decide what peace is for me. We decide. Together.”
Her words were delivered directly into my heart. And I could sense them unravelling something in me – a knot of guilt and fear I had been carrying for more than a month. I pulled Meera close, tucked my fingers deep into her hair, and pressed my lips to her forehead. I could smell the aroma of her shampoo.
“I’m sorry,” I murmured into her shoulder. “For everything.”
She leaned back for a moment. “You don’t get to run anymore, Krish. Not from me. And certainly not from this.” Her hand drifted to her stomach.
“I won’t,” I promised, and I kissed her. She opened her lips and welcomed me.
We stood just outside her door, kissing madly. We stopped as we heard a footstep. A woman in her forties had stepped out of her flat.
Meera smiled at her. “My husband.”
The woman smiled back at Meera, shyly.
“Come,” Meera invited me into her house.
As I entered, I quickly noticed that the whole house had been repainted. I stood there, watching it. It felt nothing like what I had seen last time. A whole new world. New furniture. Houseplants. Mats. Flower vases. It looked like a house full of life.
Meera turned to me, her eyes teasing. I dropped my bag on the floor and embraced her. Our lips met for quick sharing of warmth.
As the kiss ended, Meera smiled with a sigh of relief. “I thought I lost you, baby,” she whispered. “Promise me you’ll never leave me.”
The respite in her eyes told me she had never stopped loving me.
“I promise, baby.” The words flew from my heart.
She threw her arms around my neck. I lifted her, putting my arms around her butt, and hurriedly entered the bedroom. The room was painted in soft blue, replacing the old memories.
“Why the blue?” I asked.
She smiled. “It’s the colour of the sky after a storm. A never-lost hope for a new beginning.”
I saw love in her eyes. And I kissed her – slow and deliberate – a promise sealed without words. Then, I let her sit on the bed carefully. She knew my carefulness.
“I’m okay,” she said. That was how she welcomed me back into her bed.
I climbed onto the bed, and we made love slowly. As I pushed my dick into her, fucking her slowly and deliberately, her eyes remained on me, as if she didn’t want to lose me even for a moment.
As we lay spent on the bed, I asked her what she would have done if I hadn’t come back.
“I would have still kept the baby,” she said readily.
“And Desai?” I asked again.
“Who’s that?” Meera asked with a smile.
In the weeks that followed, we didn’t speak of Desai or the past. And he didn’t contact us. But one day, I decided to call him and share the news of Meera's pregnancy. He congratulated me. And he said he meant it.
We didn’t speak much, but from the way he sounded, I felt he was at peace. I was sure he would have felt the same about me.
One day, I got a call from Maithrei. She wanted to discuss providing security services for her new apartment building in the city. She said she had been too busy with it to get in touch with me until she really needed me. I promised that we could work it out. I said sending her manager to my office would do.
When I revealed that Meera was pregnant, she congratulated me.
“New responsibility. New Krish?” she asked.
I waited for a moment and then said, “Yes.”
One evening, as we sat on the balcony floor, Meera asked me about the gods in the temples of Varanasi. I tried to recollect, but I couldn’t answer.
Meera stared at me with suspicion.
“Did you really go there and spend a month?”
I gave her a blank look and rolled my eyes with a sheepish smile.
“To be honest,” I said, “I hardly thought about anything other than you the whole month.”
“I can tell that.”
Meera laughed, and then wrapped my arm around her. We watched the sunset as she leaned her head against my shoulder.
“Krish,” she asked, “do you think we’ll mess it up again?”
I intertwined my fingers with hers, our palms pressed together like a bond.
“Probably,” I said, looking into her eyes. “But we’ll fix it. Together.”
Meera took my hand and placed it on her belly under her top. I thought she was trying to make me feel the baby kicking.
“The movements start after four months, baby,” I said. “I Googled it.”
“So you’re curious about it,” Meera smiled. “As curious as I am.”
I smiled. “Yes.”
Some stories end. Ours simply turned the page.
====THE END====
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