Adultery Geetha ~ teacher

[Haran000]

The college day dawned, and as the children rose in unison, their voices chimed, "Good morning, Miss!"

"Good morning, have a seat," Geetha replied, a gentle smile gracing her lips.

Two girls, their eyes wide with admiration, gazed at the blackboard. "Look, how nice the dress is," one exclaimed.

"Yes, the dress is so simple, but the design is so heavy. Oh my, where did miss buy it?" the other wondered aloud.

"When I go to higher college, I'll wear dresses like this too," the first declared, a dreamy look in her eyes.

"Oh... but you're not as beautiful as her," the second teased, a playful glint in her eyes.

"So are you?" the first retorted, a hint of challenge in her voice.

Geetha placed her book on the table, drawing their attention. "Alright everyone, take out your papers. I'll give you a five-question test."

Harish nudged Bharat's shoulder. "Hey, did you study?"

Bharat, his gaze fixed on the desk, mumbled, "I don't know, man, I'll write whatever comes to mind. I practiced a few yesterday."

"What's up today? Chin up you moron" Harish whispered, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. " Look at miss? She looks super in that churidar."

Bharat's head shot up, his eyes widening with a sudden, hopeful intensity. He was taken aback, as if the truth of Harish's words had just struck him. His pupils dilated, much like camera lenses adjusting to a new focus. Geetha, a vision in a vibrant yellow churidar with a matching net dupatta, was turned to the side, her hand gracefully writing questions on the board. She wore delicate chain earrings, bangles adorned with intricate gota work shimmered on her wrists, and high-heeled sandals complimented her ensemble.

Bharat found it hard to believe his eyes. As she raised her hand to write, the subtle curve of her bosom became visible from his vantage point, just below her shoulder. And as she moved, the churidar leggings accentuated the gentle curves of her thighs, making them resemble plump, inviting bread buns.

Just as Geetha began to turn, Bharat swiftly lowered his head, feigning concentration. 

Geetha, however, caught the movement and smiled fondly to herself, a knowing twinkle in her eyes.

Everyone was engrossed in copying the questions from the board. When Bharat finally had to look up to continue writing, Geetha's gaze met his. A small, mischievous smile played on her lips, sending a shiver down Bharat's spine. The pen slipped from his trembling fingers, clattering to the floor.

Geetha's eyes sparkled with amusement as she watched him. Mesmerized by her star-like gaze, he remained still, unable to pick up the pen. Only when Geetha turned back to the board did he shift his gaze, bend down under the bench, and retrieve his pen.

"Alright!" Geetha announced, her voice bright. "Everyone write these down quickly. I'll start the test in another five minutes."

A flurry of scribbling filled the classroom as everyone hastened to copy the questions.

Bharat, too, was diligently writing when he realized, with a surge of pleasure, that these were the very questions Geetha had personally helped him practice the day before. He glanced at her, a pleased smile on his face.

Geetha returned his smile, then subtly pointed to the paper on the bench below, a silent signal for him to continue writing.

Three minutes later, the test began.


=


During lunchtime, after finishing his meal, Bharat made his way to the toilet, but paused near the staff room. The murmur of voices and the clinking of cutlery drifted from within, indicating the teachers were enjoying their lunch. Standing a little distance from the door, he subtly peeked inside, his eyes scanning the room with a thousand unspoken questions, searching for Geetha. He spotted her, seated next to Ramya teacher on the other side, engaged in conversation.

Geetha looked at Bharat, eating and smiling. As soon as Geetha saw him, he flinched and quickly slipped away from there.

Engrossed in her conversation with Ramya, Geetha momentarily dismissed Bharat from her thoughts. Then, a memory from the previous day surfaced, and after a brief internal debate, she decided to voice her curiosity.

"Yesterday, you with that Ganesh...?" Geetha began, her voice tinged with inquiry.

Ramya, a flicker of nervousness crossing her features, quickly and playfully squeezed Geetha's left hand. Geetha gently pulled her hand away, freeing it. Ramya leaned closer, lowering her voice conspiratorially. "Please, let's talk about that outside."

"Hmm..." Geetha sighed, a thoughtful expression on her face.

In evening, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air as Ramya and Geetha settled into a cozy corner of the coffee shop. Ramya, a hint of nervousness playing on her lips, offered Geetha a faint smile before heading to counter to get their drinks. Returning with two steaming cups, she took a seat, her heart thumping a little faster than usual.

"Ramya," Geetha began, her voice low, "I overheard what you did in the staff room."

Instantly, a surge of panic shot through Ramya. She reached across the table, urgently grasping both of Geetha's hands. "Please don't tell anyone," she pleaded, her voice barely a whisper.

Geetha's grip was reassuring. "No, no, I won't tell. Trust me. But why? Do you know him from before?"

Ramya's shoulders relaxed, a sigh escaping her lips. She picked up her cup, taking a slow sip of the warm coffee. "Ganesh is my classmate. We were good friends, however he had feelings for me. Back then, I didn't even realize it."

Geetha nodded, her expression conveying a silent, "Is that so?" as she drank her own coffee.

"But Geetha," Ramya continued, her voice tinged with a familiar sadness, "I told you, didn't I, that I gave birth to my daughter too late?"

"Yes," Geetha affirmed gently.

"That's it, Geetha. My husband doesn't pay attention to me properly. There are fights, and it feels like I have no one at home except my daughter. What can I say? My pain is my own."

A pause hung between them, broken only by the clinking of cups. "But isn't it wrong to hang out with another man like this?" Geetha ventured.

"May be," Ramya conceded, her gaze distant. "But no, I didn't feel that way. Ganesh is happy with me; he knows all my preferences. I thought it's not wrong to spend time with someone you feel comfortable with." It seemed there's nothing wrong with what she's saying, Geetha mused silently.

"Then why did you go so secretly with him yesterday evening?" Geetha's question hung in the air.

Ramya's eyes, previously filled with nervousness, now held a hint of shyness. She fell silent, taking another long drink of her coffee.

"Tell me?" Geetha prompted gently.

Ramya fidgeted, her gaze dropping to her cup. "How do I tell you, Geetha? Please understand. My folks weren't home yesterday. I spent a night with Ganesh."

Geetha's eyes widened. "Spending a night means, where did you go?"

"What's wrong, Geetha?" Ramya asked, a flicker of exasperation in her tone. "You're acting like you don't know anything. You are a married woman yaar. After a long time, I..."

Geetha gasped, her hand flying to her mouth, her eyes wide with surprise. "No, this is too wrong. I didn't think you'd do so much!"

"Geetha, please," Ramya pleaded, her voice softening. "Why are you so anxious? These things are common nowadays. We made it safe. And it's my personal. I'm just telling you because we're friends. I enjoyed it."

"What about your husband then?" Geetha's voice was barely a whisper.

"It's because he wasn't doing his part that I proceeded this way. But Ganesh, I like him," Ramya stated, a touch of defiance in her voice.

Just as Geetha's curiosity about Ramya grew, Ramya, with equal curiosity, turned the tables. "Tell me, Geetha, your husband isn't here, right? Don't you have a boyfriend?"

The question, delivered just as Geetha was taking a sip of her coffee, caused her to choke in shock. She coughed, sputtering. "Uh-huh... Ih-him..."

"Tell me, Geetha?" Ramya pressed, a playful glint in her eyes.

Geetha stammered, "No, I don't like such things."

"Hey..." Ramya chuckled, "Why are you looking like that? I just asked casually."

Geetha managed a noncommittal "Hmm..."

"You're so beautiful, sexy, and you catch all boys attention in our college. I feel jealous looking at you. You think you walk by, and no one looks and follows you?" Ramya continued, her gaze lingering on Geetha.

"It's nothing like that," Geetha mumbled, her cheeks beginning to flush.

"Tell me the truth. Do you like sex?" The words hung in the air, making Geetha acutely uncomfortable. She felt a wave of shyness wash over her, rendering her speechless.


"Hey, what are you thinking? Tell me, it's true, isn't it?" Ramya persisted, seemingly oblivious to Geetha's discomfort. "Otherwise, why would you dress up so sensuously? Your clothes, the saree you wear, they're so beautiful, your selection is on point"

"Please stop. You're making me uncomfortable," Geetha said, her voice strained.

"Truly, Geetha, why did you wear that dress today? For whom?" Ramya's voice was soft, yet piercing.

Upon hearing that, Geetha felt the ground beneath her feet give way. The thought that she had worn it for Bharath made her incredibly shy. A deep blush crept up her neck and stained her cheeks.

Ramya noticed it and chuckled softly. "Tell me, I've been seeing for the past week, you're putting a rose in your hair. Who's giving to you?"

"No," Geetha quickly replied, her voice still a little breathless, "there's a tree on my way here that blossoms, and I pick them myself."

"Alright," Ramya said, a knowing smile playing on her lips.

"Shall we go?" Geetha asked, eager to escape the increasingly personal conversation.

"Okay, see you tomorrow," Ramya replied, her smile lingering.


“The warmth of home enveloped me as I stepped inside. The day's dust and weariness washed away with cool water on my face and feet, and soon, the familiar clinking of cups announced the ritual of tea-making. A strange thought fluttered through my mind: Did I really pay that much attention to my clothes? I’d always assumed men's admiration was just a given if I looked presentable. But Ramya's unexpected declaration of jealousy caught me off guard. Perhaps Bharat was right; maybe these churidars truly did flatter me.

He had seen me in class today. What had he thought then, and what would he say now that I was home? That other day, he'd practically showered me with compliments, even calling me cute. The chai simmered, its aroma filling the kitchen, and an undeniable urge to see myself, to truly look, pulled me towards the mirror.

There I stood, the churidar clinging softly. The top fell below my knees, the V-neck, deep enough to be revealing if the dupatta wasn't there. A blush crept up my neck as I remembered Bharat's gaze yesterday – that intense, wordless look that had made me feel both shy and strangely, thrillingly, mischievous. What had he truly meant by it?

               I poured the chai into a cup, the steam curling invitingly. My dupatta, ever so gracefully, slipped from my shoulder, dbanging itself across my hands, a silken obstacle. A naughty thought, like a secret whisper, took root in my mind. What if I were to remove this dupatta? What if, when Bharat arrived, the curve of my neck, the bare skin below, captivated him even more than his usual academic focus? He hadn't said a word yesterday. Perhaps a little teasing today would do the trick, especially since he was bound to ace his test anyway.”

Geetha untied her dupatta and laid it carefully in the bedroom. A sigh escaped her lips as she settled onto the living room sofa, a cup of steaming tea by her side, and a stack of test papers waiting to be corrected. Just then, a voice from the doorway made her look up.

“Miss, may I come in?” It was Bharat.

A faint smile touched Geetha’s lips, and she motioned him in. Bharat entered, his gaze lingering on her. A wave of contentment washed over him, seeing her still in that dress. His eyes then fell upon the stack of test papers, and a familiar dread stirred within him.

Geetha rose and walked towards the kitchen, and Bharat’s eyes followed her, captivated. As her hips swayed gracefully, a similar sway seemed to take hold of Bharat. She reheated the freshly brewed tea, her movements slow, a hint of nervousness in her demeanor as she brought it back to him.

Geetha’s mind raced with unspoken questions.

She stopped in front of Bharat, bending slightly. “Here, Bharat, take the tea,” she said, placing the cup on the tea stand before him. Bharat, seemingly distracted, pulled a book from his bag, set it aside, and then his gaze returned to Geetha.

He instantly froze.

Without her dupatta, and as she bent in her V-neck top, the valley between her ‘hillocks’ was deeply revealed. Her braid, while falling over one shoulder, did little to obscure the view. A bead of sweat, glistening, traced a path down her neck and disappeared into shadows of golden curves in her cleavage. 

He stared, unblinking, until Geetha straightened up.

“What are you looking at, Bharat?” Geetha asked, a hint of amusement in her voice.

“Nothing, Miss,” he mumbled, averting his gaze and quickly reaching for his tea.

Geetha chuckled softly. “Oh!... Drink slowly, Bharat.”

“Hmm.”

As Bharat drank, his left hand instinctively went down, adjusting his pajamas. Geetha noticed the distinct tent-like bulge that had formed. A shiver, unexpected and sharp, ran down her spine. She found herself unable to stand still.

Unaware of Geetha’s observation, Bharat continued to sip his tea. Geetha, flustered, retreated to the kitchen. She took a deep, steadying breath, drank some water, and willed herself to compose.

Oh dear… I disturbed him.

After a few moments, she returned and settled onto the sofa beside Bharat.

“Thanks, Miss,” Bharat said.

“For what?”

“For wearing this dress for me.”

Geetha’s expression remained neutral. “Not for you. I just felt like wearing it.”

Bharat’s face fell instantly. “Oh, okay, Miss.”

“How do I look?” Geetha prodded.

“Miss, I told you that day, didn’t I? You look very beautiful, no matter what dress you wear.”

“I’m not asking about some other dress. Tell me about this dress?”

Bharat hesitated, and Geetha noticed his discomfort. He lowered his head. “No, Miss, you’ll hit me.” Geetha’s gaze flickered down to him again; the bulge was still there. Her shyness intensified, but so did a surprising sense of curiosity that he was still ‘swaying’ like that.

“Tell me, what happened?” Geetha urged.

Oh!… What will he say…

“Miss, you have good breasts,” muttered innocent not knowing to put proper words.

Geetha was stunned. Her eyes widened as she stared at Bharat’s face. He flinched, moving slightly away. She had not expected such a blunt statement.

“What?… What did you say?”

“Sorry, Miss… Forgive me.”

“No, tell me again what you said?”

“That, Miss, your…” he faltered, “…are good.” Bharat gripped the sofa handle, fear etched on his face. But to his surprise, Geetha’s response was unexpected, almost intimate.

“Thanks, Bharat.”

“Miss, aren’t you angry?”

“Why? You just praised me, right?”

A few moments of silence stretched between them.

Geetha, a subtle pleasure emanating from her, shifted a little closer. “Bharat, seriously, will Gautam Sir really kiss me in this dress?”

“Yes, Miss.”

“Then what about you?” She teased.

“I would kiss…” he bit his tongue, realizing his slip. “Oh!… No… No.”

Geetha was shocked. She reached out and playfully pinched Bharat’s arm just below his shoulder.

“Aaa.sh… Miss, sorry…” Bharat laughed, a nervous tremor in his voice.

Geetha, blushing but feigning anger, retorted, “I thought you were a good boy, but you’re such a naughty boy…” She pinched him again.

“Miss, let go please. It hurts.”

She released him.

“All right, study. I have to correct papers.” Geetha moved to another sofa and resumed her work. An hour passed in quiet study. Bharat eventually got up to drink some water. Geetha, unable to suppress her excitement, glanced at Bharat again. The bulge was gone. She assumed his attention had shifted and continued with her papers. Meanwhile, Bharat immersed himself in other subjects, occasionally asking Geetha small doubts, which she patiently answered.

“Miss, I’m leaving now.”

“If you want, stay a bit longer.”

“No, Miss.”

“All right, go.”

Bharat rose, packed his bag, and as he reached the doorway, he turned back.

“What? Did you forget anything?” Geetha asked.

A smile played on his lips. “Miss, will you give me tea every day in the way like today?”

“Go, naughty fellow…” Geetha said, shyly throwing a pen at him.

Bharat laughed and walked out.

“When Bharat said that to me so suddenly, it made my body tingle. 

It felt like he didn’t just want to kiss me, but somewhere within me,

 and my ‘parts’ felt heavy. Why did I become so familiar with him? 

Still, it feels good when he’s mischievous with me like this.”

.

.

.

.

To be continued………