Adultery Geetha ~ teacher

[Haran000]

Bharat’s eyes scanned the vendor’s small wares – the familiar black bindis, an array of hairbands, and various clips. Then, a vibrant flash of red caught his attention: a large, butterfly-shaped hair clip, delicate on its wire stand. He tapped Geetha on the shoulder.

“What is it?” she asked, turning.

He pointed, his index finger singling out the clip. “Miss, that clip looks good.”

Geetha followed his gaze. It was indeed striking, a brilliant, almost hibiscus-red, with a subtle butterfly design on its broad surface. “Yes, it’s nice. Kid, give me that one too. How much is it?”

“One hundred and ten,” the boy replied.

“What? One hundred and ten? You’re asking too much. I’ve bought so many clips.”

The boy sighed. “Sister, you’re asking for a discount on everything. Okay, one hundred.”

“Sixty,” Geetha countered.

Both Bharat and the boy stared, momentarily stunned. Bharat couldn’t suppress a chuckle.

“No, sister, it won’t come for sixty,” the boy said, pulling a face.

“Okay, what’s your final price?” Geetha pressed.

“It won’t be less than ninety.”

“Give it for eighty.”

“No, ninety.”

“Oh, just give it for eighty, I’m not asking for too little.”

He finally conceded, handing over the clip. As they walked away, Bharat couldn’t resist a smile. “Miss, do you need to bargain like this?”

“It’s nothing, he was asking a hundred for it,” she shrugged.

“Since it’s good, if he said no, would you have bought it for a hundred?”

Geetha considered it. “Yeah, you’re the one who said it was good.” She lifted her thick braid, deftly securing the new clip. Bharat stepped back, admiring the effect, then moved closer again.

“It looks good, Miss. You’re so cute, you know.”

“Hmm…” she murmured, a faint, pleased smile touching her lips.

“Miss, you’re so cute that I feel like giving you a kiss.”

“Hey, shut up,” she playfully retorted.

“Haha…”

They arrived at the Ferris wheel. Geetha looked up, mesmerized by the towering structure that seemed to lift its colorful boxes into the sky. She wondered how high it truly reached.

“Miss, come…” Bharat’s voice broke her reverie, his hand gently taking hers.

A wave of anxiety washed over her. She pulled her hand back. Bharat looked at her, puzzled.

“Not this,” she said.

“Why, Miss?”

“Oh, I’m scared, I’ve never ridden it.”

“It’s nothing, Miss, come.”

“No, dear, no, look how high it is. You go?”

“How can I go alone? Come. Miss, I’ve only ridden it once too, and that one was small, this one is big.”

“No, dear, I’m scared, no.” She freed her hand from his. As they stood on the path, a group of people approached with trolleys, forcing them to move closer to a nearby tent.

After a moment of silence, Bharat reached out, taking hold of Geetha’s dupatta. He idly played with the fabric, his gaze meeting hers, a hopeful plea in his eyes. “Miss, it’s nothing… I’ll be right next to you, right?”

“Hmm…” she hesitated.

“Okay, let’s ride it.”

“But I’ll be scared when it goes up, dear…”

“Oh, I’m here, please, Miss. We came here to see all this. Do you know how it looks when you ride that and go up? It’s super.”

“Hmm… Okay, let’s go.”

After Bharat’s persistent coaxing, she finally agreed, following him into a Ferris wheel car designed for four. Geetha settled on the edge of the seat. Just then, Bharat began to chuckle quietly.

Geetha looked at him suspiciously, her lips pursed, a sulky expression on her face. “Stop it now, that’s enough, I’m not scared.”

“Miss, what if you get scared after it starts?”

“It’s nothing…” she insisted, turning her face away.

‘The colossal wheel groaned to life, its ancient gears grinding a rhythm that echoed the nervous thrum in my chest. Age offered no immunity to fear, and I, too, felt that familiar unease. The ascent was always deceptively calm, but the drop, that sensation of freefall, was what truly unsettled me. It was in that moment of anticipation that Miss, with a sudden, involuntary gasp, clutched the pole beside. A flicker of sympathy touched me, but the urge to tease Miss was far stronger. A loud laugh escaped my lips, and she, in turn, favored me with a sharp, indignant pout.

Even in her annoyance, she was cute. Her eyes, usually so expressive, now held a mischievous glint, like tiny, dancing stars. Her lips, pulled into a soft pout, reminded me of delicately wrinkled rose petals. And when she scrunched her nose, a childlike gesture against my laughter, she was utterly adorable. I found myself laughing simply to witness these fleeting expressions.

Higher and higher we climbed, the world below shrinking into a distant tableau. The mechanical groans of the giant wheel mingled with the excited shouts of fellow passengers. Amidst this symphony of sound, I glanced over and saw Miss, her eyes tightly shut.

"Miss, look..." I began, but my voice was lost to the wind. I tried again, louder this time. A subtle tremor ran through her hands and face. She must have closed her eyes in fear, now that we were halfway to the apex.

"Miss, open your eyes."

She responded with a silent shake of her head. Leaning in, I gently took her chin, lifting her face. "Miss, look."

Her eyelids fluttered open, revealing a captivating blend of fear and exhilaration. The twinkling lights of the fairground, the distant roar of the crowd, the rush of the wind at this height – it all seemed to wash over her, a thrilling new sensation. She reached out, her hand finding mine, and a tentative smile graced her lips.

"Miss, did you see, haha..." I teased, a laugh still bubbling within me, though she still seemed a little unsettled.

The next moment, we reached the zenith.

"Miss, look."

I watched as her eyes sparkled, her smile widened, and a slight tremor still ran through her hands. It was her first time, and the height had clearly shaken her.

"Uff..." she murmured, her voice barely a whisper. She was uncharacteristically quiet.

Just then, our descent began, a swift, almost free-falling motion. The wind, mischievous and playful, lifted her dupatta, sending it fluttering down to her knees. In that moment, the graceful curves I'd been subtly admiring became beautifully apparent, a soft, inviting white. They were exquisite, their tenderness beyond words. I found my throat suddenly dry, my gaze fixed. The sensation of weightlessness, of floating in air, intensified as we plummeted. Perhaps it was this unsettling feeling that prompted Miss to instinctively wrap her arms around me, holding on tightly. My face brushed against the soft, jasmine-scented skin of her neck. Fear forgotten, her fragrance enveloped me, a potent elixir. As she trembled, clinging to me, I was utterly lost, savoring the intoxicating perfume that was uniquely her own.’

Geeta clung to Bharat, her eyes squeezed shut in fear. His right hand found its way to her, slipping under her arm to cup her waist. He drew her close with an eagerness that stole her breath, then pressed a kiss to her neck.

‘What was he doing?’

That single kiss sent another jolt through Geeta. Around them, the giant wheel was filled with shouts of "Oh...", but it all faded into the background. Trembling, Geeta buried her face against Bharat, holding him tight. As her warm, soft body pressed against his, his own excitement began to surge.

The giant wheel descended, then slowly gathered speed for another ascent. It was then, as they rose again, that Geeta’s senses returned, and a semblance of normalcy settled over her.

Bharat buried his face in the crook of her neck, his tongue darting out, a silent appreciation of her skin. A new sensation bloomed within her—pleasure. Her body, deprived of a man’s touch for a week, craved Bharat’s warmth.

Yet, a part of her still resisted. Her fingers tugged at his hair, a plea for distance. "Bharat... move away..." she gasped, her voice louder than she intended.

"Uh-huh... Miss..." Bharat murmured in response, his voice thick with desire as he softly bit the curve of her neck.

Goosebumps erupted across Geeta’s skin. Instinctively, she gripped his head, pressing him closer, a silent plea for more.

‘I don't know if he's taking advantage of the situation, or if my anxiety and clinging to him is making him act this way due to his affection for me. When he passionately bites and pulls at the hollow of my neck with his wet lips, smelling me and kissing me there, my body tingles. I put my hand from his shoulder behind his head and surrendered my neck to him. As he softly kissed my shoulder below my neck, I closed my eyes, lost in the feeling.

He held my chin with his index finger. Even amidst the sound of the giant wheel moving, I could hear his excited breathing. He touched my trembling lower lip with his thumb. A daze spread through me. I lowered my face, offering my lips. His nose was getting closer to my chin, seeming to understand and attempting to kiss my lips. The next moment, the giant wheel started going down. I flinched with anxiety and held onto him tightly. He stopped kissing and held me, perhaps looking to the side. Three seconds passed, and I didn't get my kiss. We came all the way down like that.

Is he thinking he lost an opportunity, or am I just thinking that? If no one were around, I'd want to hug him tightly right here.’

They descended together, their gazes locked. A silent understanding passed between them. Geetha adjusted her dupatta, a subtle gesture, before stepping out. 

The evening had already deepened; it was past seven. They ambled along the path, Bharat to Geetha’s right, his eyes scanning their surroundings. Soon, an almond, cashew, and nuts shop caught their attention.

"Things are a bit cheaper at the exhibition," Geetha mused, her thoughts still replaying Bharat’s earlier actions. He gently chided her, pulling her back to the present.

“Miss, shall we buy those?” Bharat asked.

“Yes, let’s buy them,” Geetha agreed.

As they inquired about the nuts, their eyes drifted to the chips being sold next door.

“Do you want to buy chips?” Geetha asked.

“Yes, Miss,” Bharat replied.

When they learned the shop also carried dried papads, Geetha decided on two kilos while Bharat picked up the chips.

“Miss, let’s buy those when we leave,” Bharat suggested. “How will you carry them in the bag now?”

“Oh, that’s true,” Geetha acknowledged. Turning to the vendor, she said, “Brother, we’ll take them before we leave.”

They settled for just the nuts, tucking them into her handbag, and continued to browse. 

Rows of clothing stores lined the path, offering everything from T-shirts and shirts to pants for women, men, and children.

Beyond the shops, they spotted an area dedicated to paintings, marked by a grand entrance. 

Bharat’s interest piqued, assuming more art lay within. He walked ahead, momentarily forgetting Geetha. 

She looked around, then realized he was gone. Her eyes searched, finding him at the entrance of the painting exhibition, talking to someone. She quickly joined him.

“Why did you come here?” Geetha questioned.

“Miss, they say there are paintings inside, let’s go see them,” Bharat explained.

“That’s enough, it’s getting very late. Let’s go home,” Geetha insisted.

“Miss, let’s just see them quickly and go,” he pleaded.

“Okay, let’s go,” she relented.

Inside, the space was brightly lit, resembling a tunnel. 

As they walked further, they encountered various paintings and carved sculptures, ranging in size from small to grand. Paintings adorned the walls, while sculptures stood on pedestals in the center. They moved slowly, taking in each piece.

Their eyes landed on a painting on the right wall: a girl gracefully drawing water from a well into a pot.

“It’s good, isn’t it?” Geetha commented.

“Yes, Miss,” Bharat agreed. “Instead of being very colorful, they’ve highlighted red.”

“What kind of painting is this called?” Geetha inquired.

“Miss, I don’t know,” Bharat admitted.

“Don’t you know about paintings? You usually do,” Geetha pressed, surprised.

Bharat offered a faint smile. “I don’t know that much, Miss. I only know how to draw, use pencils, point brushes, and colors. That’s all.”

“Oh, so you draw pictures. I thought you’d know,” Geetha said.

“Oh…” Bharat responded.

Further on, they came across several small female sculptures. As Geetha reached out to touch one, a security guard intervened. “No, Madam, no touching,” he cautioned.

She withdrew her hand, looking ahead. 

On the left, a painting depicted a woman dbangd in fabric, her right breast exposed. 

Bharat saw Geetha’s gaze linger and chuckled. She pouted, her eyelids lifting in a threatening look towards him.

“Hey, you shouldn’t look at these,” Geetha scolded.

“Hahaha… I’ve seen many like these, Miss,” Bharat teased.

“Shameless naughty fellow, let’s go,” she muttered, pulling him along.

Turning, they faced a large Greek sculpture of a woman, completely unclothed, her curvaceous form displayed with graceful artistry. Both craned their necks to take in its scale. 

Bharat covered his mouth, letting out a mischievous laugh. Geetha felt a blush creep up her cheeks.

“Hey…” she began.

Bharat glanced around, noticing the security guard was looking away. Seizing the opportunity, he deliberately stepped closer and placed his right hand over the sculpture’s naked left breast. Geetha gasped in surprise.

“Miss, isn’t this sculpture sexy?” Bharat whispered, his eyes twinkling.

Geetha’s cheeks flushed a deeper red. She immediately grabbed his hand, pulling him away from the statue. “Didn’t he tell you not to touch it? You and your silly acts!”

“Hahaha… Miss, whoever carved this statue, they made it very sexy, right?” Bharat persisted.

“Shut up,” Geetha snapped, letting go of his hand.

Further ahead, a collection of vibrant, colorful paintings awaited them. One particularly striking piece depicted a caterpillar gazing into a mirror, seeing a butterfly. 

They both stopped, Geetha leaning in for a closer look.

“It’s good, isn’t it?” Geetha admired.

“Yes, Miss,” Bharat agreed.

“She’s seeing herself as a butterfly with wings,” Geetha mused. “Look, you should also be confident like that in your studies. Like, ‘I will achieve it someday.’”

“Hmm… Yes,” Bharat replied.

Stepping back slightly, Bharat mumbled to himself, “She’s talking about me, but when will she spread her wings?”

‘What did he say?’ Geetha thought, a flicker of surprise at what she might have heard. She quickly turned her head to look at Bharat, who bit his tongue and averted his face, nervously moving towards a nearby painting of a colorful building.

“Did you say anything just now?” Geetha pressed.

“Yes, Miss. Look, this painting has the colors of that butterfly’s wings,” he deflected.

More people entered the hall, diverting Geetha’s attention.

“Miss, shall we go?” Bharat asked.

“Yes, okay, let’s go,” Geetha agreed. A staff member directed them to an alternate exit, and they began walking out.

“They were good, right, Miss?” Bharat asked.

“Yes… You’re just full of naughty antics, a naughty boy,” Geetha teased.

“Haha… There was no one else there, Miss, only you,” Bharat responded.

“Yes, you do everything around me,” Geetha remarked.

“What happened, Miss? Why are you talking like that? Did I say anything?” Bharat feigned innocence.

“Nothing, let’s go, it’s already late,” Geetha dismissed.

They exited the park and entered the parking lot, where the cars obscured their view. As Geetha reached to open her car door, Bharat lovingly wrapped his arms around her waist from behind, pulling her into a warm embrace. A sudden sense of comfort washed over Geetha.

“Ooh… What is it, release me?” she murmured.

He brushed her hair aside with his nose, his face close to her ear. “Thanks, Miss, for coming.”

Geetha trembled. Bharat’s voice, close and intimate, was intoxicating. “Okay, let’s go,” she managed.

“Turn around once, Miss,” he requested.

Sighing with a burgeoning desire, Geetha turned within Bharat’s embrace.

“Miss, you are so beautiful,” he whispered, “I want to paint a beautiful picture of you.”

“You already drew it that day, you put it in our college,” Geetha reminded him.

“That’s different, Miss, now I want it even more beautiful,” he insisted, his eyelids narrowing, his gaze deeply intoxicated. She cupped his chin with both hands, noticing the warmth of his skin.

‘What’s happening to him?’ she wondered.

“Okay, you can draw it sometime,” Geetha said softly.

“Miss…” he exhaled, a warm breath tinged with sadness.

“What is it?” Geetha prompted.

“Miss, tonight,” he pleaded.

“It’s getting late, aren’t you going home?” she tried to redirect.

“Miss, I am missing you, please, Miss,” he insisted.

“Me too,” Geetha confessed.

Bharat slowly lowered his head, his lips seeking hers, drawn in by the intoxication of her gaze. She stopped him, gently covering his mouth with her hand. Geetha’s cheeks were flushed with shyness.

“Not here, after we go home?” she whispered.

He pulled her into a tight embrace again, her breasts pressing against his chest. A surge of heat coursed through Geetha. Though distant figures were visible, they were far enough to grant her a flicker of courage. She wrapped her arms around his back, hugging him in return.

Then, Geetha’s inner reflections materialized. Two distinct images appeared in the mirrors of the black Audi in front of them. 

In the front seat mirror, the image of Good Geetha in her saree, composed and proper. In the back seat mirror, a more provocative image of Lustful Geetha in a nightrobe.

Good Geetha: What’s happening to you? How can you agree to everything he asks?

Lustful Geetha: You shouldn’t agree, you should order him, Geetha, he’s your puppy.

Geetha’s body began to yield to the words of the lustful Geetha. She pulled Bharat closer into her neck. He kissed her there, in a trance, and Geetha bit her lower lip passionately.

Good Geetha: Let go, that’s enough, will you agree? Will you take him home now and ask him to paint?

Lustful Geetha: Yes, do that. If this night passes, you don’t know when he’ll come back into your arms.

As Geetha wavered in her dilemma, Bharat spoke. “Miss, stop the car near my house on the way, I’ll get my equipment.”

“Hmm…” Geetha murmured.

Good Geetha: It’s over. Ugh, you never listen to me… she lamented, figuratively hitting her head.

The reflections faded from the mirrors.

‘Am I getting weak to his touch?’

“So, you agreed, Miss?” Bharat asked, stepping back. He hung his head, not quite daring to meet her gaze.

“But?” Geetha began.

He looked up, a hint of vulnerability in his eyes. “Miss, you don’t have anything of mine as a souvenir, do you, Miss? At least you’ll have the paintings I made at your house.”

Geetha stood, twisting her fingers. Bharat stepped forward, clasped her hands, and kissed her right knuckle. A small tremor ran through Geetha’s hand.

“You like it, but you’re deliberately playing hard to get, aren’t you?” he said, a playful glint in his eyes.

At his words, Geetha’s head lifted, a faint smile gracing her lips, delighted by his perception.

“Is that all…? Am I correct?” Bharat pressed.

“No,” she replied, a hint of a tease in her voice.

“Okay, as you wish,” he said, turning abruptly. He walked around the car, opened the passenger door, and got in. 

Geetha, unsure how to react, silently entered the driver’s side and started the car.

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