Adultery The Descent of Meera; An Indian House Wife
#43
Chapter 15: Lavender Promises and Midnight Wishes

The morning light filtered through the kitchen window as Meera stirred the milk for Rajiv's chai. She could feel the warmth of the stove against her skin as she watched the liquid swirl in the pot. Suddenly, strong arms wrapped around her waist from behind. Rajiv nuzzled her neck, his morning stubble scratching pleasantly. "Good morning" he murmured sleepily.

Meera leaned back into his warmth, but her mind drifted. She forced herself to focus on Rajiv. "Sleep well?" she asked, turning to kiss his cheek.

"Better now," Rajiv smiled, reaching for a banana. "Big client meeting today. Need to leave early." He peeled the fruit. "Can you pack extra lunch? Might work through dinner."

"Of course," Meera replied, chopping onions with quick, precise movements. She glanced at her phone lying silent on the counter. Why hasn't he texted yet? Maybe he's busy. The thought made her chest tighten unexpectedly.

Rajiv noticed her glance. "Expecting a call?"

Meera shook her head quickly, sprinkling turmeric into the pan. "Just checking the time. Need to wake Aaryan."

As Rajiv showered, Meera entered Aaryan's room. Sunlight caught dust motes dancing above her son's sleeping form. She sat on the edge of his bed, brushing hair from his forehead. "Wake up, my sunshine," she whispered. Aaryan stirred, blinking sleepily. "Five more minutes, Mummy..."

"No more minutes," Meera laughed softly, tickling his sides. "college van will leave without you!" She helped him into his uniform, her fingers fumbling with the tiny buttons. Has Arjun messaged? The thought interrupted as she tied his shoelaces. She pushed it away, focusing on her son's excited chatter about his college project.

At the doorway, Rajiv adjusted his tie while Aaryan struggled with his backpack. "Have a good day, beta," Meera said, kissing Aaryan's forehead. She turned to Rajiv, straightening his collar. "Don't work too late."

Rajiv squeezed her hand. "Promise. See you tonight." He kissed her quickly before leading Aaryan down the stairs.

The moment their car turned the corner, Meera hurried back inside. Her fingers trembled slightly as she grabbed her phone from the counter. She unlocked it with quick, nervous swipes, her breath catching when she saw the notification.

Arjun: Good morning Chandrika.

A different kind of warmth spread through her chest at the name. She leaned against the counter, typing quickly.

Meera: She sent the blushing emoji, not denying the name. Quiet acceptance.

Meera: Birthday dinner plans?
Please say no. Please come here, her mind begged as she stirred the chai absently.

Arjun: No plans. Probably just room service and reports. Glamorous, na?
His loneliness twisted something inside her. The thought of him alone on his birthday felt deeply wrong.

Meera: Grrrrrr... What about Aarti? Birthday date?
The mock jealousy hid a sharp, serious question: Is she still in your life?

Arjun: No Aarti! No contact for weeks. Promise!
His quick reassurance soothed the knot of possessiveness in her stomach.

Meera: Then I guess you'll have to settle for my boring home food!
She stirred the chai slowly, waiting.

Arjun: Office chai tastes like dishwater after your Tata Gold.

Meera: Stock rakho fir! (Then keep stock!)
She smiled, tucking the phone into her saree waistband where it warmed her skin as she cleaned.

Meera: Birthday dress khareeda nahee? 

Arjun: Not yet. Nothing planned, remember?

Meera: Sure sure... Aarti ke saath eek outing bhi kar sakthe thee

Arjun: I swear on my birthday! No Aarti! Only thinking about...
The typing dots lingered. Meera held her breath.
Arjun: ...dinner at your place?

Meera: Haan, I can cook if you want?

Arjun: Chandrika, that would make my birthday!

Meera: Condition hai! You must behave! No talk of Mahabaleshwar! No grocery store stares! And definitely NOTHING about that kitchen accident! I saw you staring shameless boy!

Arjun: I didn't stare, Chandrika. I admired. Every curve... every dip... perfection.
His words made her thighs press together. She remembered how his gaze had burned across her exposed waist.

Meera: Bad boy! Toh ek dish cut! (Then one dish less!)

Arjun: Sorry Chandrika... oops Meera... I will behave... but can't promise about my thoughts...
His admission ignited her. She pictured his fantasy: her standing before him, back turned, wearing only the promised lavender lace panty. No leggings, no covering.

Arousal surged through Meera as she stood alone in her kitchen. Wet heat pulsed low in her belly, spreading warmth through her limbs. Her nipples tightened against her blouse. She squeezed her eyes shut, but the vivid image held. The ache between her legs throbbed in time with her heartbeat.

Evening Rajiv was reviewing files at the dining table. He looked up suddenly. "Meera, Arjun's birthday Saturday. He's alone, no family here. I thought... maybe host him for dinner? Make it special?"

Pure delight exploded inside Meera. Heat flooded her cheeks, threatening to reveal her smile. She kept chopping cucumbers, voice carefully neutral. "Hmm. Saturday? Theek hai, I can manage. Poor guy alone. Tell him to come."

Rajiv beamed, immediately typing a message, completely unaware of the storm of joy swirling within his wife.

Late that night, Meera lay beside her sleeping husband. The phone's glow lit her face as midnight approached - 11:57... 11:58... 11:59. She 
could feel her heart pounding against her ribs. It's his birthday. Is he waiting for my wish? The thought made her fingers tingle. The moment the clock turned 12:00, she grabbed her phone.

Meera: Happy birthday Arjun.
The reply came instantly.

Arjun: Thank you Chandrika!
His use of the special name in the midnight warmed her through.

Meera: Birthday boy should be sleeping now...

Arjun: Sleep? How? When thoughts of... lavender panty... keep me awake?
The directness was potent, sending a jolt straight to her core.

Meera: Chuuup! No dinner! Cancel kar rahi hoon! Birthday boy thoo... shameless nikla... grrrr...
Mock anger burned through her, fueled by sudden wet heat flooding between her legs. She pressed her thighs together.

Arjun: Haha! Sorry sorry! Force of habit on birthday?

Meera: Grrr... What do you REALLY want tomorrow?
She braced herself, half-hoping he'd voice the fantasy.

Arjun: The view. Only with lavender.
Two devastating sentences. The fantasy flooded back with brutal clarity: her standing, back to him, wearing only the lavender lace panty and matching bra.

He sees the delicate bra straps cutting across her shoulder blades, the thin lavender lines stark against her skin. His eyes follow the graceful curve of her spine down to where the panty’s waistband rests low on her hips, exposing the smooth plane of her lower back. He stares at the full, round shape of her buttocks - the lace stretched tight over each firm cheek, the deep cleft between them shadowed and inviting. His gaze will linger where the panty clings to the crease under her cheeks, the fabric growing damp where it touches her hidden folds. He studies the backs of her thighs - the strong muscles flexing as she shifts, the smooth skin flowing down to her knees. The cool air touches her skin, but his gaze feels like a physical heat.

Liquid heat pulsed at Meera's core, a distinct throb echoing through her entire body. Her skin flushed hot from chest to thighs. Nipples hardened painfully, rubbing against the thin silk of her nightdress. A soft gasp escaped her lips.

Meera: Grrrr I was asking about FOOD, besharam!

The angry emoji glared from the screen, but her body screamed its truth. Wetness soaked through her underwear.
She threw the phone down, but the image consumed her. Eyes closed in the dark, she surrendered. Standing there. Only lavender lace. Him watching. Silent. Intense.

Her back arched slightly off the mattress, hips pressing down seeking friction. Her thighs rubbed together restlessly, the silk nightdress whispering against damp skin. Her right hand drifted down, palm pressing flat against her lower belly just above 'Chandrika'. She could feel the intense heat radiating from her core. Her left hand cupped her breast through the thin silk, thumb circling the hardened nipple with increasing pressure. Each touch sent electric sparks shooting straight to the molten pool between her legs. The fantasy wasn't just in her mind anymore. Her body lived it. His imagined gaze felt like rough fingertips trailing over her skin, igniting every nerve ending. The ache throbbed relentlessly. She fell asleep into the sensual landscape he’d mapped for her.
 
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RE: The Descent of Meera; An Indian House Wife - by subtle - 10-08-2025, 01:44 AM



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