Adultery Geetha ~ teacher

[Haran000]

A dog was searching through a trash pile near a street light when Geetha’s Swift Dzire passed by, startling it, and it rolled into the trash.

Geetha pulled into the driveway, the open gate a silent invitation. Perhaps Sri had stepped out and would close it on his return. She parked the car, and they both alighted, Bharath carrying a few items inside. Geetha gathered the morning's dried clothes from the front of the house and entered, pulling the door shut behind her.

"Miss, toilet?" Bharath asked.

"Go, why are you asking me?" Geetha replied, a hint of exasperation in her voice. "Just wash your face and come."

He disappeared into the bathroom.

Geetha tossed the clothes onto the bedroom chair, unhooked her dupatta, and hung it. A splash of water at the washbasin, a quick wipe, and she was in the kitchen.

"Miss…" Bharath's voice echoed from the hall as he emerged from the bathroom.

"I'm in the kitchen," Geetha called back.

"Miss, come, change your dress."

"For what?"

"What? We planned to paint, didn't we?"

"Not like this?" Geetha questioned, glancing down at her attire.

"Okay, as you wish," Bharath conceded, stepping closer and taking her hand.

"I feel like it's not necessary," Geetha murmured.

"If you don't want to, then no," he said, releasing her hand. "I'll leave then."

"Okay, okay, wait," she relented. "Where and how?"

"Next to the bedroom window, okay?" he suggested.

"You tell me, don't ask me," Geetha chided softly.

He released her hands, gently held her by the elbows, and stepped forward, his warm breath teasing her ear. "Miss, wear something simple, like that nighty you wear, so cute and hot."

"Hey!" Geetha exclaimed, swatting him on the head.

Bharath chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he touched her cheek below her lips, then stepped back. Geetha felt a wave of intoxication wash over her, causing her to instinctively retreat. She turned, heading for the bedroom. "Okay, wait," she called over her shoulder. "Come when I call you."

Once inside the bedroom, Geetha found herself delighted by the delicious turmoil Bharath's playful touch had stirred within her. She opened the wardrobe, her mind a delightful whirlwind of indecision. She pictured herself in various outfits, a blush creeping onto her cheeks. Her gaze drifted, and there, next to the mirror, hung Gautam's white shirt.

The shirt seemed to shimmer, catching her eye, and a mischievous thought sparked within her. She took a step closer, her eyes still fixed on the shirt. Her fingers began to tremble. Biting her left fingernail, she glanced at the wardrobe, then back at the shirt, nodding three times in a silent affirmation.

Her feet carried her forward without hesitation. She grabbed the shirt, and with a sudden movement, unbuttoned her top, letting it fall to the floor. In the mirror, her beautiful, full boobs, unrestrained by a bra, came into view, and her cheeks deepened to a fiery red. The realization that she had been out all evening, with her young student, in public, without a bra, sent a shiver through her, stiffening her nipples. A playful shiver ran through her body, a new excitement bubbling up, unconsciously urging her to push boundaries.

She slipped on the shirt, then took it off again. Opening the wardrobe, she retrieved a black lace lingerie from the bottom shelf and put it on. It was a tight, back-hook bra, and she struggled, turning her back to the mirror, until she finally fastened it. Looking in the mirror once more, her nipples, subtly outlined by the thin bra, protruded.

 Blushing, she lightly touched her right nipple with her index finger, stroking down into her cleavage. A wave of desire ignited within her, leaving her feeling numb and deliciously shivery.

She admired her full-length reflection in the mirror, her white thighs like vanilla ice cream cones, and chuckled to herself, a thrill of delight coursing through her. 

Recently, Geetha had lost some weight, making her figure appear more slender, yet plump, and boosting her confidence. Despite the weight loss, the shape of her boobs remained unchanged. Her hips seemed as wide as ever. Turning to her right, lifting her waist, she assessed the curve of her buttocks and, out of a sudden shyness, covered her face with her hands, even though no one else was there.

She put the shirt back on, buttoning the lower buttons until they reached just above her navel, where she fastened the bottom button of her bra. Her fingers trembled as she attempted to button the front over her cleavage, a delightful mischievousness growing within her. Shyly, she buttoned it, then the next, leaving only the one below her neck open.

She took out her hair clip, twisted her hair into a bun, and secured it with a pin. Looking in the mirror again, she noticed the shirt didn't cover below her buttocks. The blue robe she'd worn earlier that day had covered her thighs, but this one left nothing to the imagination. 

With a deep breath, she removed everything except her mangalsutra and toe rings. She went to the door, her left hand gripping the latch. A small, cold shiver traced its way down her thighs. Biting her right fingernail, she nervously turned the latch.

The click of the door opening made Bharath twist his neck, looking back from the sofa. 

Geetha emerged from the room, blushing, her gaze fixed downwards. She wore a white Oxford cotton shirt, her left hand tugging the hem down by her left hip.

As soon as Bharath saw her, his face lit up with a thousand lumens of joy. He instantly rose and strode quickly towards her. Geetha felt a rush of overwhelming shyness with Bharath standing so close. She lifted her eyelids, meeting his gaze for a fleeting moment.

‘Oh no! How he's looking!’

"Miss…" Bharath began. Geetha swayed from side to side, her hands gripping the edges of her shirt, trying to pull them further down.

"Miss, the shirt won't get longer just by doing that," Bharath chuckled.

Geetha's heart skipped a beat. She immediately spun around and scurried back into the bedroom. 

Chuckling, Bharath retrieved the painting board and brushes from the table. He pulled a small table into the bedroom, placed it next to the bed, leaned the board against it, and set the brushes beside it. He looked at Geetha, who stood silently, facing away but with a slight turn towards him.

"Miss…?" he prompted.

"Hmm, tell me," she replied softly.

"If you're so shy, why did you wear it, Miss?"

"You said to wear something cute and hot, didn't you?" Geetha retorted, a hint of playfulness in her voice.

"Hmm, yes, Miss," he confirmed.

Geetha held onto the edge of the table, her fingers tracing its surface, as she turned her neck halfway to look back at him. "How do I look?"

"Hah…" Bharath began, a low breath.

"I'm asking how I look?" she pressed.

He set the paint aside, coming to stand close behind her. The moment he placed his hand on her left shoulder, Geetha trembled.

"Miss…"

"Hmm," she hummed, nodding vertically.

He gently held her shoulders, pulling her back against him. Geetha felt a prickle of anxiety. 

"What are you doing?" she whispered.

"Shh… Miss, silent." He moved her, guiding her to the side, and positioned her next to the window. Bending forward, he buried his face in her neck, exhaling intoxicatingly. Geetha curled her fist into the hem of her right shirt.

"Miss, you need to stand with your hands up," Bharath instructed. 

Her throat felt dry. "Uhh," she exhaled. 

He quickly knelt down, his cool hands gently grasping her knees. 

Geetha felt a small shock and instinctively drew both her legs closer. 

From below, he looked up, mesmerized for five seconds by her creamy thighs, the beauty of her buttery plump buttocks, and the black panties clinging to her backside, making them appear held. Desire surged within him, his manhood coming to life, stiffening his pants.

In a thin voice, Geetha whispered, "Puppy."

"Huh, Miss…"

"Don't look like that, dear."

"Hmm…" He stood up and stepped back. 

Just then, Bharath's stomach rumbled. He suddenly realized they hadn't eaten yet. "Miss, I'm hungry, we haven't eaten anything."

Geetha immediately turned back, a silent "True" echoing in her mind. "Yes, right," she said, chuckling at the thought that they had both forgotten about food, consumed by each other. 

The moment Geetha turned, Bharath's gaze drifted to her bust. The black bra was visible like a shadow through the white shirt, and her curves lifted the fabric, displaying them. His eyes filled with desire, which he quickly tried to hide, turning and exiting the bedroom.

"Miss, what did you cook? Let's eat first, then we can do the drawing." Geetha understood why Bharath had left so abruptly. She blushed, went to the door, and closed it.

"Okay, I'll change my dress and come to cook, wait."

"Haven't you cooked yet?" he called back, turning. "Miss, wait, why change your dress?" 

Geetha smiled shyly. "Naughty boy, how can I? I'm shy…" 

As she was closing the door, Bharath stopped it with his hand at the last second.

"Miss, it's fine, come, I'm hungry."

"Hey… No…"

"Not no, yes… Come, I won't let go of the door."

Letting go of the door, delighted by his mischievous words, she chuckled softly, leaning against it. "Too much, ra."

Bharath came close to Geetha, leaning his palm against the wall next to her right shoulder, his gaze mischievous. "Miss, I want to keep looking like this. Can't I? Why bother taking one dress off and putting another on, tell me." 

Geetha had no answer, and delighted, she pushed his hand away and went into the kitchen.

Peering into the fridge, she saw two cauliflowers; no other vegetables, just some chilies and coriander. She began to calculate how long cauliflower would take to cook. Just then, she felt Bharath's warm, intense gaze on her thighs. She stood up and looked to her right, and Bharath quickly averted his face. 

‘Oh, you've spoiled the boy well, Geetha.’

"Hey, you go away," Geetha said.

"I came to see what you're cooking."

Geetha stood up, closed the fridge door, passed Bharath, and went into the hall. 

"Cauliflower will take long, why cook? Let's order something, what do you want to eat?"

"Miss, let's make cauliflower fried rice."

"Why fried rice now, dear? I'll order something good."

"Miss, fried rice doesn't mean with rice, it's made only with cauliflower."

"What? I've never heard of that."

"Miss, I'll tell you, I'll help you with the cooking."

"Why bother, dear? Let's order, you said you were hungry."

"Miss, even if we order, it might take thirty minutes to arrive. We can cook this in that time."

"Oh! Okay."

Wearing a shirt that only reached her thighs, as she walked into the kitchen with Bharath, she remembered the jokes Bharath had made in the kitchen like this before, and a warm tingle started in her thighs. 

She took out the cauliflower, washed it, and cut it into pieces. On the other side, Bharath retrieved the mixer, washed its jar in the sink, and joined Geetha.

"Miss, put those pieces in here," he instructed. Geetha complied, dropping the pieces into the jar.

"Miss, now you have to grind this."

"Won't it become a soft paste?" she asked, concerned.

"No, Miss. Grind it, then spread it on a plate for a while, and it will become soft grains, see."

Geetha took the jar, put the lid on, and fitted it onto the mixer. Bharath stood behind her, looking up from below, his arousal growing as Geetha's thighs swayed with her movements under the hem of her shirt. As Geetha ground with the mixer, he slowly leaned against her from behind. As his nose pressed into her right shoulder, Geetha shivered slightly, a soft chuckle escaping her lips, knowing Bharath was doing it out of affection. He rested his chin fully on her shoulder.

"Get up, dear, it's heavy on my hand," Geetha said.

He inhaled her neck, exhaled warmly, and stretched both hands forward, joining them around her waist. His warm hands, over the thin shirt, touched her waist, sending a warm, pleasant sensation through Geetha.

"Mm… move, Bharath," she murmured.

In her ear, Bharath responded, "Uh-huh…"

"Hey, move…" She shook her shoulder, and he let go, stepping back. 

Geetha turned off the mixer, opened the lid, and showed it to Bharath. "Is this enough?"

Bharath looked inside; the cauliflower had become like soft semolina. "Yes, Miss, okay, give it to me." He took it, picked up a plate from the stand next to him, poured the cauliflower paste onto it, and spread it evenly. 

He then took the plate to the hall dining table and turned on the fan. Meanwhile, Geetha began cutting chilies and onions.

Bharath returned to the kitchen, retrieved coriander and spring onions from the basket, and cut them with a small knife. He washed them in a small bowl filled with water. 

Geetha placed the cut vegetables next to the stove. Bharath went and brought the cauliflower plate, stirred the powder with a spoon, and gave it to Geetha, who mixed it with her hand.

"It's true, dear, it looks like small grains," Geetha observed.

"Now just cook it like fried rice."

"Good idea, dear."

"Do you know something else, Miss? Since this is cauliflower, you'll get full vegetable nutrients."

"Hmm… yes, very healthy. Who told you this?"

"I watch cooking videos on YouTube, Miss. I also like to cook.”

"Haha… really? Why, dear?"

"So I can help you, that's why."

"Oh, that's enough…" Geetha laughed softly. "How do you come up with these flirting words?"

Bharath chuckled.

Geetha began cooking. She poured oil into the wok, and after it heated, she added mustard seeds and cumin, then chopped onions. After they sautéed, she added green chilies and stirred. 

Bharath's eyes seemed to have a mind of their own. He stood next to her, almost drooling as he looked up and down at the paneer sculpture cooking in front of him.

After Geetha sautéed ginger-garlic and turmeric, she gradually added the ground cauliflower while stirring. 

Bharath took a plate and helped her pour it, and Geetha continued to stir. Bharath took the garam masala box, sprinkled a little, and put it aside.

"Miss, do you have soy sauce and tomato paste?" he asked. 

Geetha took them out from the shelf and gave them to him. As he poured a little of each, Geetha stirred.

"Miss, you need to mix it well. Let me mix, move aside."

"It's okay, dear, you're not used to it. I'm doing it."

"Oh! Okay, Miss."