Adultery The Language of Her Heart

[yazhiniram]

Episode 113 & 114

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Radhika came back to the table.

Still wiping her fingers on her pallu.

Face smiling.

Steps soft.

She looked at Raj, then at me.


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“He can eat little more, Pavi,” she said playfully.

“Feed him well. Raj won’t stop unless someone forces.”

Then she turned.

Humming.

Light voice.


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She walked to the sofa.

Sat down again.

Legs folded.

Phone in hand.

Safe.


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I let out a slow breath.

Not loud.

But full.

Inside me.

Thank God.


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She didn’t notice anything.

Not my face.

Not Raj’s lap.

Not that one second.

Not that one mistake.


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Raj was still eating.

Quiet.

Not fast.

Biting slowly.

Chewing calm.


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His plate had the extra pieces.

I stood near him.

Body straight.

Pretending normal.

But inside, not normal.


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“Sorry,” I said softly.

Eyes not meeting his.

He looked up.

Calm.

Eyes open.


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“Hmm?” he asked.

Low voice.

Chewing still.

“For… you know. That spill.”


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He gave a small smile.

Corner of his lip.

“It’s okay, Pavi. No problem.”

His eyes stayed calm.

But I could still feel that second from before.


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I nodded.

Didn’t speak more.

Stepped away slowly.

To the kitchen corner.

Cloth rack.


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Picked the cleaning cloth.

Soft cotton.

Old.

I took it to the sink.

Wet it lightly.


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Tap running.

Cloth soaked.

Squeezed once.

Fingers cold.

Then I turned.


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Eyes checked.

Radhika was on the sofa.

Head down.

Phone open.

Safe.


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I walked back.

Light steps.

Each one steady.

Back to Raj’s chair.

He was finishing last bite.


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He looked up, confused.

Eyebrows tilted.

“What are you doing?” he asked softly.

Voice slow.


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“Wait, anna.”

I said gently.

“Gravy stain won’t go otherwise.”

My hand reached.

Lifted his shirt.


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Just a little.

Fabric soft.

Chest covered.

But I lifted it to see the stain.

Brown. Spread.

Middle of his pant.


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“Hey… no need, Pavi…” he said.

I shook my head.

“Let me clean,” I whispered.

Already bending.


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Cloth pressed softly.

On his pant.

On the stain.

Fabric damp.

Heat rising through it.


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I rubbed gently.

Small circles.

Not hard.

Just enough to lift the stain.

His hands stayed still.


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One holding plate.

Other on thigh.

No movement.

No reaction.

But underneath—


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His cock was still there.

Still full.

Still thick.

Not softening.

Not hiding.


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I didn’t look.

But I felt.

Through cloth.

That shape.

That stretch.


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It throbbed once.

Just once.

Under my hand.

My wrist paused.

Then continued.


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Still pretending.

Focusing only on stain.

But inside me—

My body already aware.


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His pant was warm.

The bulge clear now.

My cloth moved along it.

From bottom.

Up.


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Straight line.

One full slide.

From base.

To tip.

I felt it.


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My breath caught.

Not loud.

Just sharp inhale.

His cock…

Long.

Thick.


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Matching his tall body.

Matching that quiet strength.

My fingers twitched.

Even through cloth.

Not on purpose.


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But they moved.

And just then—

Inside me.

A pull.

One sharp twitch.


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My cunt reacted.

Suddenly.

Tight.

Wet.

Hot.

Just from touching cloth.


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I blinked.

Realised.

Pulled my hand back quickly.

“Okay,” I whispered.

Barely a word.


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I stood up.

Slow.

Avoided his eyes.

Didn’t wait.

Didn’t check.


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Turned.

Walked straight to the kitchen.

Cloth still in hand.

My chest tight.

My thighs wet.


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Pant still damp.

Plate still in front of him.

But I had already touched something else.

Not food.

Not stain.

Something deeper.

Inside both of us.


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Raj finished last few bites.

Slow.

Chewing calm.

Then pushed his chair back.

A slight sound.


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I was near the sink.

Rinsing small vessel.

Tumbler only.

Water running soft.

My fingers wet.


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Radhika was still in the hall.

Phone in hand.

Leg swinging gently.

Screen light on her face.

Quiet.


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I heard his step.

Behind me.

Near the kitchen entrance.

My back straightened.

I didn’t turn.


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Picked up towel.

From hook.

Small one.

Damp already.

But clean.


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“Anna, wipe with this,” I said softly.

Handed it without eye contact.

Just hand to hand.

He took it.

Nodded once.


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He wiped slowly.

Fingers careful.

Along the cotton.

Not rushed.

Not clumsy.


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Then —

He handed it back.

But other hand moved.

Quietly.

Without warning.


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Behind me.

Squeeze.

Full palm.

My hip.

Tight.


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Right side.

Above petticoat.

On curve.

My mouth opened.

No control.


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“Aaaah…”

Not loud.

But not soft either.

Sound came out.

From stomach.


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Like breath got stuck.

Between moan and warning.

Between yes and no.

I turned.

Eyes wide.


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“What got into you now, anna?” I whispered sharply.

Voice tight.

Face hot.

But not angry.

More shocked.


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He gave small smile.

Not full.

Corner only.

Teeth not showing.

Just enough.


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“You know what,” he said under breath.

Then walked away.

Like nothing happened.

Back to hall.


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I stood still.

Heart beating fast.

One-two-one-two.

Too quick.

Too deep.


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Then shook my head.

Slow.

Collected myself.

Took plates.

Stacked near sink.


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Radhika walked near.

Tying her hair.

Loose bun.

Gentle face.

Unaware.


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“Need help, Pavi?”

“No no, akka. You sit.”

She looked doubtful.

“You cooked everything. Let me at least help wash.”


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“I’m almost done. You sit. Relax little,” I smiled.

She nodded.

Walked back.

Then turned once more.

“Once Kartik comes back… one day you both come for dinner to my place. Okay?”


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“Sure, akka. Will come. Let him return.”

She smiled.

Sat down.

Stretched her legs on floor mat.

Settled.


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I wiped the table.

Round circles.

One hand.

Quiet rhythm.

No rush.


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Folded cloth.

Tucked it back near sink.

Clean.

Dinner done.

House still warm.


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I walked back.

Joined them in the hall.

Raj sitting cross-legged.

Phone in hand.

Eyes on screen.


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Radhika leaning on cushion.

Head resting back.

Shoulders loose.

Full.

Tired.


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“Coffee?” I asked softly.

Eyes between them.

Voice light.

She waved hand.

“No no. I’m full. No space even for breath.”


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I smiled.

“Ice cream, akka?”

She paused.

Then grinned.

“That I’ll take. Cold something will help.”

I nodded.

Turned to Raj.


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“Anna, for you? Coffee or ice cream?”

He looked up.

Phone still in hand.

Eyes tilted.

Smile starting.


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“I want rasgulla.”

His voice calm.

Straight.

Eyes on me.


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Radhika turned.

Laughed.

“Ayyyo! Rasgulla, ah? What you think? She’s running a sweet shop here?”

Her laugh open.

Innocent.

No doubt.


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But me…

I knew.

Rasgulla.

Round.

Soft.

Juicy.

He was talking about my breasts.


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My cheeks warmed.

Full heat.

Up the neck.

Into ears.

I looked away.


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Controlled face.

Didn’t react.

Didn’t smile.

Just said evenly—

“Anna, tell properly. Coffee or ice cream.”


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He looked straight.

Little smile still playing.

Eyes only on me.

Not blinking.

Not innocent.


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“Coffee,” he said.

Word simple.

But behind it —

The taste of something else.


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I walked back into the kitchen.

My legs were moving slow.

Not tired.

Just quiet.

Soft inside.


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Not blank.

Not cold.

Still warm.

Still humming.

Still there.


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The milk was rising now.

Tiny bubbles at the edge.

Soft white circles.

Trembling gently.

Near the steel rim.


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Gas on low.

Flame blue.

Calm.

The whole kitchen smelled like evening.

Filter coffee.


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And leftover masala heat.

My fingers still warm.

From the cleaning.

My wrist had one gravy stain.

Thin like bangles.


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I didn’t wipe it.

I just watched the milk.

That soft little edge.

Climbing up.

Threatening to overflow.


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Rasgulla, ah?

I smiled.

Not big.

Not on face.

That small smile.


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The inside one.

Tongue pressed behind teeth.

Lips holding it in.

That smile.

Mine.


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I bit my cheek.

Gently.

He thought he was teasing me.

But he forgot.

I knew the game better now.


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Rasgulla he wanted?

I’ll give.

Just enough.

To make him remember one full week.

Without taste. Only ache.


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The milk touched first boil.

I lowered the flame.

Poured decoction slow.

The brown stream falling.

Mixing like smoke in lake.


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Added sugar.

One spoon.

Enough.

The smell rose.

Dark. Strong.


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Little bitter.

Little sweet.

My favourite.

I stirred gentle.

No spill.


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Fingers circled handle.

Wrist made slow circles.

The heat climbed my skin.

I opened fridge.

Scoop of vanilla.


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It was already soft.

Pressed into steel bowl.

The bowl chilled my fingers.

My nipples stirred inside blouse.

I ignored it.


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I walked to hall.

Placed bowl in Radhika’s hand.

“Here, akka,” I said.

She looked up.

Smiled.


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“Thanks, Pavi,” she said.

“Looks perfect.”

I nodded.

Returned to kitchen.

The coffee was ready.


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I poured it slow.

Two steel tumblers.

Perfect colour.

Light brown.

Froth dancing soft at the top.


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Not too much foam.

Just enough.

I wiped tray once.

Corner cloth.

Placed both tumblers side by side.


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Turned.

Radhika was licking her little finger.

Cream at the tip.

One small drop on her lower lip.

She didn’t notice.


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She stood.

Stretched.

Walked toward wash.

My chest tightened.

Now.


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I picked up tray.

Walked slow.

To the hall.

To him.

He was sitting like king.


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Not casual.

Not careless.

Posture sharp.

Legs wide.

Elbows on sofa back.


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One foot tapping.

Waiting.

Eyes came to me.

Before I reached.

First hand. Then face. Then chest.


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Slow.

Like drinking sip by sip.

I reached his legs.

Paused.

Bent slightly.


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More than needed.

Held tray at chest level.

“Anna,” I said softly.

“Here is your coffee.”

He looked.


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Didn’t blink.

“I’m just waiting for rasgulla, that’s all.”

Voice soft.

Eyes bold.


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“Why?” I smiled slightly.

“Did I promise sweets, ah?”

He tilted his head.

“Post-dinner sweet is best, no?”


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I wanted to tease more.

But he looked like kid waiting for candy.

So I gave.

Just a taste.


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Leant in slightly.

Blouse stretched.

“Anna,” I whispered.

“You want one rasgulla… or two?”


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His face changed.

Small flick.

Behind the eyes.

Hunger turning to greed.

“Oh… now I’m getting rasgulla, ah?”


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Joke voice.

But body leaned forward.

Knees parted.

Hands dropped to thighs.

Ready.


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“Tell properly,” I said.

“One or two?”

“Obviously… two.”

I placed the tray down.


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He didn’t blink.

Coffee was right there.

But he wasn’t thirsty for that.

I stayed in front of him.

Pallu had loosened.


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I had let it.

One fold had slipped below shoulder.

Blouse clung.

Thin cotton.

Black on brown.


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No pad inside.

I didn’t speak.

Took slow breath.

Leaned forward.

Breasts moved first.


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Pressed against his face.

Not fast.

Not forceful.

Soft curtain against cheek.

Centre touched his nose.


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Dip between both.

Blouse stretched more.

He didn’t breathe.

Then I shifted.

Turned slight.


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His cheek brushed left breast.

Then right.

Slight bounce.

Slight pull.

Soft skin.


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Fabric was thin.

Bra cotton.

Nothing extra.

Heat underneath.

Shape real.


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His breath short.

Hand rose.

Slow.

Lifted.

Touched.


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Left breast.

Held it.

No squeeze.

No press.

Just cupped.


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Thumb rested on side.

Fingers under curve.

My breath paused.

But I didn’t stop him.

Nipple shifted.


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Tightened.

Rose against cotton.

He felt.

I saw it in his eyes.

Mouth opened slightly.


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No smile.

Just awe.

I stayed.

One second.

Two.


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Then straightened.

His hand dropped.

He leaned back.

Eyes full.

Like child after cream.


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“I want it without wrapper next time,” he whispered.

“Direct from the box.”

I laughed.

Soft.

Low.


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“You’re becoming naughty, anna.”

He tilted head.

“No no. This is cheating.”

“Rasgulla means full. Not outside packaging.”


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“No, anna. Enough.”

“Already too much.”

I said.

Adjusted pallu.

Pinned it tight.


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He pouted.

Mature face.

Boy’s pout.

Not getting chocolate.

That face twisted something in me.


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Not only desire.

Something else.

Something soft.

Affection.

I whispered—


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“Let’s see… next time.”

He relaxed.

Didn’t ask more.

Didn’t push.

Just watched.


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Then — steps.

Sound.

Radhika.

Near.

I turned.


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Picked up tumbler.

Passed it.

He took it.

Hand slipped behind waist.

One squeeze.


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From side.

Not play.

Not accident.

Man’s touch.

Thighs clenched.


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Shock fast.

Almost dropped the cup.

He held it.

Balanced.

One grin.


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I shook my head.

“Too much,” I whispered.

He didn’t reply.

Sipped coffee.

Like nothing.


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I picked mine.

Walked to other end.

Sat slow.

Heart full.

Bra tight.


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Breast tingling.

Radhika came.

Sat between us.

Didn’t notice.

She never would.


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Me and Raj were sipping coffee.

Slowly.

The steel tumbler was warm in my hands.

My palms were resting on either side.

The bottom heat was pressing gently into my skin.


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That kind of warmth that makes you sit little straighter.

Makes your chest feel heavy but comfortable.

My stomach was full.

My blouse was tight against my back.

My bra line felt snug.


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The hall was soft now.

Quiet.

No loud talk.

Just that light fan sound above.

And little clinks from Radhika’s bangles when she moved her hand.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


She was sitting folded, one leg up on the sofa.

Her pallu was around her neck, loose.

She was leaning toward me, speaking softly.

“When is Kartik coming back, Pavi?”

Her voice was normal. Usual.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“End of this week, akka,” I said. “Friday or Saturday. Depends on that client meeting.”

She nodded, sipped her own coffee.

“Hmm.”

Then she started usual small talk.

Asking about neighbours.

Asking about my kids.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I was answering.

But not full.

Not from heart.

Just outside answers.

Because…

Raj was looking.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


His tumbler was still in his hand.

One knee bouncing lightly.

But his eyes were not bouncing.

They were still.

Slow.

Fixed.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


On me.

Not openly.

Not greedy.

But firm.

That mature way.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


The way only a man looks.

When he knows something.

When he has touched something.

When he has tasted something.

But won’t say out loud.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


That type of stare.

It came to my face first.

Then neck.

Then lips.

Then… lower.

When I adjusted my pallu — I saw his eyes shift.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


He saw the shape under blouse.

He held his stare one second longer than usual.

I didn’t look fully at him.

But I saw everything.

I felt.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


The heat on my skin.

That small pull in my chest.

Not from coffee.

Not from food.

From something older.

Deeper.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Then it happened.

Phone ring.

Radhika’s phone on the table.

It lit up.

She took it quickly.

“Amma,” she said.

Looking at the screen.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


She pressed the green button.

Put the phone to her ear.

I couldn’t hear the other side.

Only her expression.

Blank. Focused.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Airvoice, akka?” I asked, watching her face.

She nodded. “Yes.”

“No coverage here,” I said. “Go near balcony.”

“Okay. I’ll go,” she said, standing already.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Raj spoke without looking.

“Who is it?”

“Amma only,” Radhika said.

She was walking toward the glass door.

Curtain moved.

Evening air slipped in.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


He smiled softly.

That boy smile.

Not full. Just side.

“So she won’t come for an hour now.”

Radhika turned, frowned. “What?”

He sipped again. Calm.

“I said, don’t take too long.”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Only five minutes,” she replied, half-laughing.

She stepped out.

Closed the glass sliding behind her.

Sound went soft.

Muted.

She was outside now.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


The air changed.

Not outside.

Inside.

Inside this hall.

Inside me.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Raj turned.

Body turned.

Eyes turned.

“She said five minutes, right?”

Voice low.

Not joking now.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I nodded.

Still holding tumbler.

“Hmm.”

“She won’t come for one hour.”

I gave one laugh. “How do you know?”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“I know her,” he said. “Once she starts, it won’t stop.”

He leaned back.

Not big lean.

Just that confident lean.

Knowing he has time.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


My fingers circled the steel tumbler.

One droplet of sweat was forming at the side.

I wiped it with thumb.

My wrist was still warm.

Still had faint smell of chicken masala.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


He kept looking.

Not talking.

Just… seeing me.

With full eyes.

My skin felt like his stare was brushing me.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I didn’t talk.

Didn’t shift.

Just sat.

One leg folded under the other.

Blouse stretched gently across my chest.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I looked at clock.

Just once.

8:10.

Only 8:10.

Still early.

Still quiet.

Still just… us.