Adultery Geetha ~ teacher

[Haran000]

The gnawing ache in Bharath's stomach was relentless. " I can't stand this hunger, Miss," he groaned, his eyes fixed on Geetha. Her gaze, however, dropped to a more intimate spot, settling between his legs for a brief moment before she began serving their meal.

Bharath eagerly took his plate, snatching a spoon from the cup. The first bite was a revelation, and he looked up at Geetha, an unspoken question in his eyes.

"What, is it not good?" she asked, a slight frown creasing her brow.

"You tell me?" he challenged, a playful glint in his eyes.

Geetha took a bite herself, her expression thoughtful. "Hmm... it's good," she conceded, a small smile finally gracing Bharath's face. "It's good," she affirmed.

"Yes, that's why I told you, Miss," Bharath responded, a hint of satisfaction in his voice.

"Thanks to you, I learned a new dish today," Geetha said, a genuine warmth in her tone.
Bharath chuckled softly. His hunger was a fierce beast, and he devoured his meal in five short minutes. Geetha watched as his plate was scbangd clean, yet he still clutched his spoon.

"Do you want some more?" she offered, already knowing the answer.

"No, Miss, that's enough," he demurred, though his lingering grip on the spoon told a different story.

"Here, take some of mine," she insisted, pushing her plate towards him.

"No, Miss," he protested again, but his resolve was weakening.

"Take it, this much is enough for me." She leaned forward, a graceful movement, as she transferred a portion from her plate to his. As she did, Bharath's gaze settled on her, and she noticed it. 

A button below the collar of her shirt had come undone, offering a tantalizing glimpse of her cleavage, like a hidden valley. 



Geetha's eyes widened almost imperceptibly as she realized his silent appreciation. She gently tapped her forehead with her hand, a self-reprimanding gesture.

"Eat," she said, her voice a little softer than before.

He lowered his face, a slow smile spreading across his lips as he resumed eating.

"Don't you think I'll scold you?" Geetha's voice was a playful scold. "Why did you do that?"

"What, Miss?" Bharath feigned innocence, his eyes twinkling.

"Hey, don't pretend you don't know," she chided. "You should give a handkerchief if i sweat."

Bharath's smile widened. "Miss, I felt like doing that, so I did."

"So you weren't afraid of what I'd say?" she pressed.

"But you didn't say anything, Miss?" he countered, his gaze unwavering.

Geetha simply looked at him, a silent understanding passing between them.

-


The lingering scent of their finished meal hung in the air as Bharat and Geetha washed up. 

A mischievous glint entered Bharat's eyes. He deliberately cupped his hand over the tap, sending a playful splash of water towards Geetha. It landed on her waist, and she instinctively recoiled. The cold droplets trickled down her left side, subtly outlining her small navel beneath her damp clothes.

Initial annoyance quickly melted into a playful smile. Geetha turned towards the bedroom, a coy gesture to shield her navel from his gaze.

"Naughty fellow," she chided, a hint of amusement in her voice. "No more games like that."

Bharat's soft smile was disarming. "I didn't do it on purpose, Miss."

She feigned skepticism, her own playfulness bubbling to the surface. "Really?"

"Really, Miss."

"Hmm, okay…" she mused, taking a step forward.

"Miss, show me where the water fell, I'll wipe it."

In a flash, Geetha stepped forward, her movement so swift that he found himself directly looking at her wet waist. She instantly covered herself with her left hand, a blush creeping onto her cheeks.

"Miss, show me," he pressed.

"Hey, come on, you said you'd paint."

"Oh, right."

They moved into the bedroom. Geetha adjusted her hair, then stood before the closed window.

"Miss, you need to stay like I told you earlier, okay?" Bharat instructed, then flipped off the room lights.

"Why did you turn off the lights for a painting?"

"Wait, Miss, I'll tell you." He switched on the bedside table lamp, casting the room in a dim glow. "You said you were shy, that's why all this."

Geetha was taken aback, a warmth spreading through her at his thoughtfulness. 

Bharat always seemed to anticipate her feelings.

He set up his painting board near the door, hoping the light from the hall would suffice for his drawing. Clipping the paper to the board, he picked up a small bowl he’d brought for mixing paints. He poured in a bit of white paint, held the bowl, and stepped into the kitchen. After filling a small glass with water from the sink, he returned to the room.

Geetha stood as he'd left her, facing the window, clutching her shirt, and shyly biting her right thumbnail. 

Bharat mixed the paint, placed the bowl beside the board, and moved behind her, standing close.

"Miss, look this way."

"I feel shy."

"Haha… Miss, I'll paint you just like this, a back pose."

"Hmm."

He moved a little closer. Bharat's proximity sent a warm shiver through Geetha. Gently, he reached out with his left hand and pulled back the collar of her shirt from behind. It didn't stretch much.

"Miss, unbutton one more."

"Why...?" she asked, her voice a slight tremor.

"Miss, the shirt will look a little loose, it'll be better."

"Okay…" She unbuttoned the top button. "I took it off."

He pulled her shirt further back, exposing the upper edges of her shoulder blades where they met her neck. He left it there. Then, reaching up, he removed Geetha's hair bun, letting her hair cascade freely. He carefully spread her hair over her shoulders. Geetha loved that he did this himself.

Standing behind her, leaning in, he ran his fingers over the sleeves of her shirt, down to her elbows. 

Geetha, unable to bear the intensity, bit her lip, frozen in silent anticipation. 

He took her wrists and guided her hands to rest on the window.

"Miss, stay like this," he whispered in her ear, his breath exquisitely brushing her cheek. 

"Please be a little patient, don't move."

She turned her neck to the right, bringing her lips within an inch of his. "Hmm," she hummed, her breathing restless. Her lips felt cold and trembled slightly. Bharat's breath on them made her shiver in his proxy.

As Bharat slowly moved back, she gently tried to control her excitement and called out, "B... Bharat."

"What is it, Miss...?" he asked, moving close again. 

As his arm sent waves of heat across her back, her damp shirt began to dry, and the trickling water droplets down her thighs caused a slight shiver.

‘Oh no, if he kisses me now’

Suppressing her desire, and unable to shed her shyness, she shook her head slightly.

"Nothing."

He silently moved away, going to the switchboard and turning on the LED dim light. The room filled with shades of reddish-green. The table, the bed, the gray bedsheet, and the pillows all took on a reddish hue. The blue blanket folded nearby appeared black, and the wardrobe handles gleamed. 

The light from the window seemed a little brighter than the room's artificial glow. Due to the red light, Geetha's white shirt now looked pink.

Geetha, just as Bharat had instructed, kept her hands on the window, her loose hair veiling her face in shyness. She crossed her right leg in front of her left, her desirous thighs gleaming like a marble sculpture in the dim light, offering a view to her beloved student.

Bharat gazed at Geetha with intense concentration and began to move his paint brush. 

He started with her hair, rendering it a rich brown, a mixture of black and earthy golden, just like Geetha's own. 

He was tracing the lines of her hair downwards, intending to move towards her waist, when he noticed that her current pose wasn't inspiring him. His hand paused.

He put the brush down and walked towards Geetha. She sensed his footsteps.

‘Don't touch, don't touch.’

She was biting her lips, writhing internally.

The next moment, Bharat's hands were on her hips. She instantly froze.

"Miss, lift your bottom a little."

"Why?"

"I'll tell you. Just bend back a little."

Geetha moved her foot back, pushing her two butts backward. 

At that moment, her shirt lifted over her buttocks, past the waistband of her panties. 

Bharat could fully see her panties clinging to her buttocks, and the way the panty straps tightly gripped her created a shape that intensified his desire.



"Is it okay?"

Bharat was lost, gazing at her back. 

Geetha turned her neck and looked at Bharat's eyes; he was looking at her like a hungry kitten eyeing a mouse from behind a wall.

‘Uff… crazy boy.’

"Hey, is it okay?"

Bharat quickly snapped out of it and moved back. "Yes, Miss, stay like that."

Bharat began drawing again. 

Geetha remained still. No matter how concentrated Bharat was on his drawing, his gaze kept straying to her buttocks, covered only by her panties.

As Geetha looked at her thighs, her shirt was on her waist, and its front hem was hanging down. 

At that moment, she realized that Bharat could see her panties. 

With a wave of shyness, she stood up straight, brought her right hand behind her, and began pulling down her shirt from behind to cover herself.

This disrupted Bharat's work, and he felt a little annoyed. "Hey! What happened, Miss?"

"Oh, you're looking at my panty…" She couldn't finish the sentence.

"So what, Miss? I'm painting here. I told you not to move, didn't I?"

"You shouldn't look like that."

"It's okay, Miss, please pretend I'm not here and just stand like that."

"How can I pretend that?"

Geetha didn't question him again and resumed her pose. 

As he looked at Geetha's curves, his dick quickened its pace, making him tremble. 

He somehow diverted his attention and quickly drew her upper body. 

After outlining her figure down to her waist, his mind again yearned for something more. 

His hand twitched, refusing to cooperate with drawing.

Suddenly, an idea struck him. However, he was afraid of Geetha's reaction. He decided to tell her anyway. Taking a deep breath, he looked at Geetha.

"Are you done?"

The question made Bharat flinch for a moment. He walked forward slowly, thinking nervously. He went to Geetha's side. She turned towards him.

"Why did you come? Are you done?"

Looking down, Bharat began, "Miss, I'll tell you something, don't scold me."

"Why would I scold you? Tell me."

"Miss, I really…"

She leaned forward eagerly, waiting for him to continue. "Yes, you?"

"Miss, if you take off your underwear…" He stopped, fear gripping him. 

Geetha was surprised. He had suddenly asked her to take off her panties.

"What did you say?"

"Miss, you saw the previous painting, right, the one where you were in the bathroom. This one is like that too."

Geetha's eyes widened. She looked at Bharat angrily. He nervously moved back.

Stammering, Bharat continued, "Mi... Miss, I know you'll get angry, but it would look good, I feel. Besides, since your face isn't there, no one will even know it's your painting."

"Stop it, don't talk like that. Do you even know what you're asking?"

"Sorry, Miss, I thought you might agree."

"Why would I agree? I'm shy. And how can I be like that, especially in front of you?"

"Miss, you can, because I've already seen your back, right?"

Geetha, a sharp fear in her voice, threatened him, shouting, "Bharat!" 

But Bharat, this time, was brave and didn't flinch.

"Miss, tell me, isn't that true?"

Bharat speaking like that felt entirely new to Geetha. She felt a strange pull, new dominance, a deep desire somewhere in her heart to fulfill Bharat's wish, but her ingrained patience held her back. Too shy, she turned away and hid her face.

Bharat waited two minutes for her answer. 

Geetha remained silent. 

Not knowing what else to do, he quickly embraced Geetha from behind, wrapping his hands around her, beneath her boobs.

Holding his breath, Bharat whispered, "Miss, I couldn't help but ask. I want to paint you just like that. I like you, Miss. I know it's a little uncomfortable for you, but please, for me, Miss."

"I'm shy."

"Five minutes, that's it, not even a second more…" Saying this, he buried his face in her back.

"Tell me how I can be like that. You'll keep looking at me. Please understand how awkward it would be."

"Please, Miss."

"Okay, go outside."

"Huh?"

She smiled. "Naughty fellow, go outside. Come in when I call you."

"Oh, okay, Miss."

He let go and quickly left. Geetha scratched her head and closed the door.

‘How did I agree to this? What am I doing? 

When he hugged me like that, it felt like some magic entered me. I can understand, after all, he's a man. Wouldn't he want to see a woman's beauty? I let him kiss me. I did other things. How much I'm enjoying all the playful jokes he makes with me. Today, he said he'd paint me. I'm wondering how well he'll paint. But when he suddenly asked that, who wouldn't be scared?’

After closing the door, she considered going to look at the painting board, but then decided against it, thinking it wouldn't be good to see it before it was finished. Slowly, she stood by the bed and bent down, wrapping her fingers around her panty waistband and pulling it down. Her slightly damp labia and the small hairs on them clung wetly to her panties. As she pulled them down, they sent a shiver through her vulva.

Unable to believe herself, and filled with shy delight, she quickly slipped her panties off her legs and put them aside. Her own femininity seemed to be blocking her view of her female self. Mischievously, she went to the window, stood in the pose Bharat had told her, crossed both her thighs, and pushed both her buttocks backward.

With an unknown excitement, she swallowed her dry tongue, took a breath, and called out, "Bharat, come inside."


Bharat sat on the sofa, his hands rubbing together, a knot of anxiety tightening in his stomach. How could he have asked such a thing? He closed his eyes, leaning back and swaying, willing Geetha to call. "She should call by the count of ten," he muttered, counting down: "Ten... nine... eight... seven... six... five... four... three... two... one."

Silence. Geetha didn't open the door. Just as he wondered what she was doing, her voice finally called out. He rushed to the door and knocked.

"The door isn't locked, come in..." Geetha's voice was a soft invitation.

Geetha's body was aflame with a burning sensation. A fierce shyness consumed her; she wasn't sure Bharat could handle seeing her like this, and she found herself unable to turn her head. She heard a soft "click" as he turned the latch, her heart thumping in her chest.

The door behind Geetha swung open, and Bharat stepped inside. The sight that greeted him stole his breath. He was stunned, his mouth agape, his eyes sparkling like stars. 

Geetha wore no panties, and the gentle curve of her buttocks was tantalizingly visible beneath the hem of her shirt.

A fire ignited within him, a primal surge that traveled downwards, instantly stiffening his organ. It swelled, threatening to tear through his pants.

"Stay there, don't come here," Geetha pleaded, her voice trembling with trepidation as she hid her face.

Bharat laughed, a soft chuckle. "Haha... why would I come, Miss?"

"Hmm..." Geetha hummed, her thighs pressed tightly together.

Bharat's gaze lingered on her hips, admiring how her body, wide at the base, gracefully tapered upwards. Her shirt barely covered half of her buttocks, which hung like two crescent moons hanging beneath the fabric. He was already losing his mind.

He felt a pull, a missing piece. Forgetting Geetha's instruction to stay put, he walked towards her. 

She stood unprotesting. He placed his hand gently on her right shoulder, and Geetha flinched.

"Didn't I tell you not to come?" she whispered.

With his left hand, he delicately held the hem of her shirt over her buttocks. As he lifted it, his index finger brushed softly against her right buttock, sending a cool shiver through Geetha, making her squirm.

"Mmm..." she moaned softly.

"Miss, your shirt should be at your waist," Bharat said, his voice a little strained.

"You're the one who told me to put my hands up?" Geetha countered.

"Miss, tie a knot in your shirt," he instructed.

"Oh, okay, go."

As soon as Geetha agreed, he moved to the painting board. 

Meanwhile, Geetha tied a knot in the front of her shirt at her waist, her hands still raised. 

Her full, soft back curves were now exquisitely visible for him.

Bharat looked at them, panting with eagerness, and picked up his brush. As he lowered it from her waist, his gaze drifted down to Geetha's white hips, and then to the delicate valley formed by the joining of her elevated buttocks. He couldn't breathe. Her full, well-rounded figure, reminiscent of a cluster of pearls, and her thighs, made his pants feel impossibly constricted.

Steadying his breath, he began to draw. Despite the AC, a single bead of sweat trickled down his forehead. His heart pounded rapidly, his hand trembling, making the brush quiver.

In the faint light from the window, Geetha's face was visible, her lip caught between her teeth in a gesture of shyness. 

Below, with nothing covering her honeypot, the AC's coolness met her heated thighs. 

In that silent battle, the lips between her thighs softened, surrendered, and offered up their nectar.

Above, Geetha's right ring finger began to itch. She rubbed it against the windowpane, a small gesture to control her rising urges.

Memories flooded Geetha's mind: all the moments she had shared with Bharath—how he had playfully admired her beauty for the first time, their first kiss on his birthday night, the naughty games during hide-and-seek, her surrender to his words on the hill, the playful way he lick her in the cinema despite others being present, his heartfelt praise, their passionate lip-locking where he whispered new things, how he had seen her nipple while talking to Gautam, and their intense kiss that very night. Recalling it all, her femininity burned within her, a heat that yearned for more, converting into a wetness, a warm dew drop trickled down her vulva edges.

Her reflection in the mirror began to speak.

‘He'll come here after the painting is done,’ her reflection urged. ‘Don't think of anything else, just push him onto the bed.’

‘Uh-uh... wrong,’ Geetha mumbled.

‘What's wrong?’ her reflection countered. ‘Your finger is doing wrong.’

‘No... he's my student.’

‘He's only a student now, not in a few days,’ the reflection chided. ‘Anyway, why is he your student? He's your friend, you think of him as a cute puppy, don't you?’

‘Uh-uh...’ Geetha protested weakly.

While Geetha was lost in her own thoughtful conversation, Bharat's voice cut through the silence. "Miss, it's done."

She turned her head to look, and Bharat quickly moved to the other side of the room. 

"Miss, you can change your dress now," he said.

She wondered why he hadn't come closer, why he hadn't touched her even when he had the chance. Was it fear? Was he truly innocent? Was this a game, or were circumstances simply leading them both down this path? Was this is his admiring respect for her?

In living hall, Bharat slumped back onto the sofa, his desire a torment. He absolutely didn't want to tell Geetha he was leaving, yet he lacked the courage to say he would stay tonight. He was agitated, unsure what to say or how to act if Geetha came out. 

Her beauty lingered in his mind, the thought of having seen her naked buttocks thrilling him inside his pants. Slowly, assuming no one was looking and Geetha was still inside, he slipped his left hand into his pants and touched himself. It swelled with a sigh, making him flinch and withdraw his hand.

Geetha put on her panties and walked from behind the board towards the painting. Once she reached it, a wave of shyness washed over her at the sight of herself, wondering how Bharat had painted it, yet a sense of delight overcame her. Without looking at the painting, she adjusted her shirt and was about to open the door when a mischievous impulse seized her.

She unbuttoned the button below her neck, then another. Her shirt fell from her left shoulder, hanging at her elbows. The upper half of her left bra cup was now visible. Just her mangalsutra shadowing her cleavage.

‘I told him I'd kiss him goodbye.’

As Bharat was lost in his thoughts, Geetha slowly opened the door and entered the hall. 

Bharat heard her and became alert. 

Geetha walked slowly from behind the sofa, hesitant to go in front of him. Her gaze fell directly on Bharat's knees, where his pants tented slightly. At the sight, a new tremor started in Geetha's fingers and hand. Her steps faltered. As she continued to look, it swelled even more.

‘Uff, why is it like that?’

Just then, Bharat folded his legs and moved further into the sofa. Geetha chuckled at his shyness. His fear lessened her own anxiety.

When Bharat moved forward, he smiled. Geetha returned his smile.

Upon seeing Geetha's bra, Bharat lowered his face, his shyness further sparking mischievous thoughts in Geetha. Bharat sat on the left end of the sofa, while Geetha sat on the right.

‘Isn't he going home?’

Geetha's gaze, however, continually drifted to Bharat's thighs.

‘Uh-uh, don't look.’

No matter how much she tried, she couldn't divert her gaze.