10-08-2025, 02:30 AM
(This post was last modified: 10-08-2025, 02:32 AM by subtle. Edited 1 time in total. Edited 1 time in total.)
Chapter 16: Lavender Birthday
Meera woke slowly. Beside her, Rajiv slept deeply, his breathing steady. Her mind, however, snapped instantly awake, filled with one thought: Arjun’s birthday. He’s coming today. A familiar thrill, warm and unsettling, spread through her chest. She pictured him arriving, his tall frame filling the doorway, his eyes seeking hers. Will he behave? she wondered, shifting under the sheet. Rajiv and Aaryan would be here, a constant presence. Surely he wouldn’t dare anything stupid with them around? Yet, another, quieter voice whispered within her, Do I really want him to behave properly? Or would a little bit of his naughtiness, just a secret look, a hidden touch, make this day... exciting? The thought sent a guilty pulse low in her belly. She remembered the intense fantasy from last night’s messages – his wish to see her wearing only the lavender lace panty. She knew she wouldn’t do that, not like he imagined. But deep down, a confusing, powerful desire stirred: I want to please him. Why? Why do I care so much about pleasing my husband’s colleague? She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to push away the feeling. It’s a sin. A betrayal. But the image of his appreciative gaze, the warmth it sparked in her, refused to fade.
She slipped out of bed carefully, avoiding waking Rajiv. The cool marble floor felt solid under her bare feet as she padded towards the kitchen. Her phone lay silent on the counter. She ignored it deliberately, focusing instead on starting the chai. She measured the tea leaves, poured the milk, her movements automatic. The mundane task couldn’t distract her. Has he messaged? What did he call me this time? The pull was magnetic. Finally, after Rajiv had woken, showered, eaten, and left after their usual morning rush of tying shoelaces and packing lunches, Meera couldn’t resist any longer. She grabbed the phone.
The screen lit up with his message.
Arjun: Good morning Chandrika. Birthday boy reporting for duty (sadly, office duty).
A small smile touched her lips despite herself. Chandrika. The name felt intimate, a secret shared.
Meera: (Surprise emoji) Meera! Meera naam hai! Happy birthday... office duty wala. (Meera! Name is Meera! Happy birthday... office duty guy.)
Arjun: Thank you, Chandrika.
Meera: Grrrr... Abhi se ek dish cancel! Favorite dish batao birthday boy ka, warna aur cancel! (Grrr... One dish cancelled right now! Tell birthday boy's favorite dish, or more cancelled!)
Arjun: Arre nahi! Bas... ek accha sa veg pulaav? Woh jo tum banati ho? (Oh no! Just... a good veg pulaav? The one you make?)
Meera: Pulaav? Theek hai. Par behave karna. (Pulaav? Okay. But behave.)
Arjun: Haan haan, Chandrika... I mean Meera. Promise. (Yes yes, Chandrika... I mean Meera. Promise.)
Meera: Tch. Dekhte hain. Chai piya? (Tch. We'll see. Had tea?)
Arjun: Pi li. Par tumhari chai ki yaad aa rahi hai. Office ki chai... kuch khaas nahi. (Drank. But missing your tea. Office tea... nothing special.)
Meera: Aaj raat piyoge. Ab kaam karo besharam. (Will drink tonight. Now work, shameless one.)
Her gaze drifted to the lavender plant on her bedroom windowsill. Arjun had gifted the day he returned from Mahabaleshwar. She had watered it diligently, and now it was blossoming beautifully, delicate purple flowers releasing a soft, sweet scent. A wave of tenderness mixed with excitement washed over her. He’ll see it tonight. What will he think? She carefully picked up the pot, its earthy smell mingling with the lavender fragrance, and carried it out to the front room, placing it prominently on a side table where the evening light would catch it. For him to see.
Afternoon Bath & Preparation:
The warm water felt good as it streamed over Meera’s head, soaking her hair, running down her face and neck. Droplets clung to her skin, tracing paths over her collarbones, beading on the curves of her shoulders, and sliding slowly over the swell of her breasts, making her skin feel extra sensitive. She watched the water run in rivulets down her stomach, over the slight curve of her belly. Her hands, slick with soap, moved over her body. She rubbed the soap over her arms, her shoulders, then down over the curve of her waist. Her fingers lingered on the soft skin of her stomach, circling the small dip just below her navel – Chandrika. A shiver ran through her. His Chandrika. Heat bloomed across her chest and up her neck. Her touch moved lower, skimming over her hips, the inward curve leading to the warmth between her thighs. A familiar, low throb pulsed there, a direct reminder of his midnight wish. Lavender. Only lavender. She closed her eyes, leaning her forehead against the cool, wet tiles, letting the water pound against her back. She tried to calm the storm of wanting his words and the thought of the evening had stirred up. Her breath caught as her fingers traced the outer curve of her hip, picturing his eyes following that same line later. Am I crazy? Guilt flickered briefly, but it was quickly smothered by the powerful mix of desire and the thrilling feeling of knowing she held his complete attention. She needed to please him somehow. Not exactly as he wished, but... something. How? The question buzzed in her mind as she rinsed off, the water carrying away the soap but not the heat inside her.
Stepping out of the shower, Meera wrapped herself in a large, soft towel. She walked to the full-length mirror, the steam still swirling around her, making her reflection look a little hazy. She saw the pink flush high on her cheeks and chest, the way her eyes seemed darker, wider. Her whole body felt alive, humming with a quiet energy. A slow, secret smile touched her lips as she let the towel drop to the floor.
She stood naked before the mirror, looking at herself. She saw her arms and shoulders, the gentle swell of her breasts with their dark, tight nipples. Her gaze travelled down over the defined curve of her waist, the slight softness of her stomach, and the feminine flare of her hips. Her legs looked strong. She looked at her stomach, focusing on the small dip just below her navel. Chandrika. Full moon. His words echoed in her mind, making her smile widen. His.
She opened her lingerie drawer and carefully took out the lavender lace panties. The cool, smooth fabric felt sensual against her skin as she stepped into them, pulling them up over her hips and between her legs. They fit snugly, clinging intimately. She turned, looking back over her shoulder at her reflection. The mirror showed the V-shaped lace back, cupping the firm, rounded shape of her buttocks perfectly. The delicate pattern of the lace was clearly visible against her skin. The soft lavender colour looked beautiful and surprisingly erotic against her skin tone. She stared, that small smile playing on her lips again. This is what he wanted to see. Without anything else. The thought sent a fresh wave of heat pooling low in her belly, making her feel damp beneath the lace. She ran her hands over her hips, feeling the lace and the curve of her body beneath it. For him.
Dbanging her blue silk saree felt different today. It was charged with new meaning. She tucked the pleats neatly at her waist, making sure the fabric hugged her curves, especially her hips. As she anchored the pallu over her shoulder, she deliberately left it a little loose. A slight shift, a bend, could easily reveal the waistband of the lavender panties and the smooth skin of her stomach, including Chandrika. She adjusted the fall of the saree, catching her reflection once more. The rich blue silk looked lovely against her skin and seemed to echo the hidden lavender beneath. Another smile, this one touched with a hint of mischief, appeared on her lips. She touched her navel lightly through the thin fabric of her saree blouse. His Chandrika was ready.
The Dinner:
The kitchen hummed with activity and delicious smells. The fragrance of the birthday pulaav filled the air – basmati rice, spices, and vegetables cooking together. Meera moved around with a lightness in her step, stirring the pot, tasting the broth, adjusting the seasoning. For him. Just thinking it sent little thrills of excitement through her body. The sound of the front door opening cut through the kitchen sounds. Then came his voice, deep and resonant: "Hello Rajiv! Aaryan!"
Meera’s heart leaped into her throat. A rush of emotions hit her – excitement, nervousness, and a fierce, warm delight. She took a deep, steadying breath, smoothing her saree. Her fingers lingered near her waist, deliberately adjusting the pallu so it sat just right above the hidden Chandrika – a secret promise right there, yet hidden.
"Meera! Arjun aa gaya hai!" Rajiv called out cheerfully.
Meera walked into the living room, feeling a sensual thrill run through her. Her skin felt warm, sensitive. She was intensely aware of her body beneath the silk, the lavender lace against her skin. He’s here.
Their eyes met instantly. A spark, electric and undeniable, passed between them. It was visible only in the slight widening of their eyes, the tiny pause before Arjun broke into a warm, genuine smile.
"Hello, Meera," she said, her voice surprisingly steady despite the frantic drumming in her chest. Rajiv stood beside him, beaming.
"Thank you, Meera," Arjun replied, his gaze sweeping over her, openly appreciative and intense. It lingered just a fraction longer than necessary on the dbang of her saree near her waist. "You look lovely."
" Thank you," Meera murmured.
Casual greetings followed. Arjun effortlessly knelt to talk to Aaryan about his toys, his charm natural and easy. Meera moved to pour drinks. Her gaze kept drifting back to Arjun. She admired the strong line of his jaw, the way his well-fitted shirt stretched across his broad shoulders when he lifted Aaryan briefly, the easy confidence in his movements. Every time their eyes met across the room, it felt like a stolen moment, a secret message passing between them. It sent her emotions swirling – pure delight when he looked at her, a flutter of nerves when his gaze held hers a beat too long, a warm glow spreading through her when he gave her a small, private smile.
Rajiv chuckled, settling into an armchair. "Arre yaar, Arjun, that presentation today... Patel Sir kept nitpicking every slide! I was ready to pull my hair out!"
Meera brought Rajiv his drink. "Office ki baatein ghar pe mat lao na, Rajiv," she said mildly, though her eyes briefly met Arjun's. (Don't bring office talk home)
Rajiv laughed. "Haan haan, sorry. But dekho na," he continued, turning back to Arjun. "Anyway, forget office. Dekho woh lavender ka plant? Meera ne kitna dhyaan se rakha hai! Roz paani deti hai, dhoop mein rakhti hai. Dekho kitna khila hua hai ab!" He pointed proudly to the plant Meera had placed on the side table. (Look at that lavender plant? Meera has taken such care of it! Waters it daily, keeps it in the sun. Look how much it's blossomed now!)
Arjun’s gaze shifted to the flourishing lavender plant, its purple blooms vibrant. A soft, appreciative smile touched his lips. Then his eyes lifted, finding Meera's. They held for a few intense seconds. A sensual, knowing smile curved Meera's lips, meant only for him, before she smoothly looked away to adjust Aaryan's glass.
Without Rajiv noticing, Arjun subtly pulled out his phone. Meera felt her own phone buzz softly. She waited a moment, then casually retrieved it while Rajiv was animatedly describing Aaryan's latest mischief at college.
Arjun: Thanks for taking care of the lavender. It looks beautiful. Like its owner.
Meera’s heart skipped a beat. A warm flush crept up her neck. She quickly typed back, a small, secretive smile on her face.
Meera: Replied with a blushing face emoji
Arjun was nodding along to Rajiv's story, seemingly engrossed. But a moment later, Meera's phone buzzed again.
Arjun: Is it my favorite lavender today?
Meera glanced at the message, her pulse quickening. She knew exactly what he meant – the hidden lace. A wave of excitement mixed with nervous heat washed over her. She felt a distinct throb low in her belly. She played safe.
Meera: ??
Almost instantly:
Arjun: Is it my favorite lavender under those blues you wear?
The directness was potent. Meera felt a jolt go straight to her core. Her skin prickled with awareness. The erotic tension between them, subtle but incredibly strong, felt like a live wire only they could feel. She looked up, catching Arjun's eye. He gave an almost imperceptible nod towards his phone. Rajiv was still talking. Another buzz.
Arjun: Chandrikaa... say....
Meera held his gaze for a second. Then, without looking directly at him, a distinctly naughty, subtle smile touched her lips – a secret just for him – as she looked down at her phone and typed.
Meera: For birthday boy.
She saw Arjun read the message. A slow, deeply satisfied smile spread across his face.
Arjun: Thank you, Chandrika. More than you know.
Rajiv clapped his hands. "Cake time! I almost forgot!" He brought out a small birthday cake he'd hidden earlier, already lit with candles.
"Happy Birthday, Arjun!"
Aaryan clapped excitedly. "Happy Birthday Uncle Arjun!"
Meera felt a surge of happiness, watching Arjun's genuine smile as they sang. She felt beautiful, desired, and strangely powerful in her secret knowledge. Ready for him.
"Make a wish!" Rajiv urged.
Arjun closed his eyes briefly, then blew out the candles amidst cheers. Rajiv handed him the knife. "Cutting honors!"
Arjun took the knife. His eyes first found Meera's, holding her gaze for a loaded second filled with unspoken promises. Then, seeming reluctant, he shifted his attention to Aaryan. "Pehle birthday ke star ko!" he declared, cutting a piece and carefully feeding a bite to the giggling boy. (First to the birthday star!)
"Ab Papa ko!" Arjun said, cutting another piece and feeding Rajiv. (Now for Papa!)
Finally, he cut a generous slice. He turned to Meera, holding the piece of cake on a small plate, a clear intention in his eyes to feed her. Meera, acutely aware of Rajiv watching, felt a flush rise on her cheeks. She quickly reached out and took the plate from his hand before he could lift it to her mouth, her fingers brushing his lightly. The contact sent a tiny shock through her.
" Thank you," she murmured, avoiding his intense gaze, focusing on the cake.
Dinner was served. Meera sat directly opposite Arjun, with Rajiv at the head of the table. Arjun praised the pulaav lavishly, expertly weaving his compliments into the ongoing conversation.
"...and the client finally signed this afternoon, Rajiv, just like I told you earlier. Took some doing, but your strategy worked. Full credit." He took a deliberate bite of the pulaav. "And Meera, yeh pulaav... bilkul perfect hai! Exactly what I was craving. The spices... the texture... shabaash!" He raised his glass slightly towards her, his eyes meeting hers briefly over the rim. The look held a depth of meaning that went far, far beyond the food on his plate. It spoke of lavender lace, secret glances, and a birthday wish hanging in the air between them. (This pulaav... is absolutely perfect! Exactly what I was craving. The spices... the texture... fantastic!)
Rajiv animatedly discussed quarterly sales targets with Arjun while Aaryan chattered about his college project. Meera focused on serving the dal, her hand steady as she ladled it onto Rajiv's plate. Then it happened - a sudden warm brush against her bare left foot under the table. She froze mid-motion, the spoon hovering over Rajiv's plate. Her eyes darted to Arjun. He leaned forward, gesturing with his hands as he spoke to Rajiv, seemingly unaware. Accident? Her foot stayed still.
A moment later, the touch returned - firmer this time. The rough warmth of his bare foot pressed deliberately against the side of her foot. Meera's breath hitched. She felt every ridge of his skin against her smooth sole. Her toes curled involuntarily as an electric jolt shot up her leg, pulsing straight to her core. Heat flooded her face. She looked down at her plate, struggling to keep her expression neutral while fighting the sudden damp warmth blooming within her lavender lace panties.
She dared a glance through her lashes. Arjun was still talking to Rajiv, but she saw his eyes flicker toward her for a split second. His foot moved again, slowly sliding against hers - a deliberate caress. The rough skin of his sole scbangd gently over her ankle bone where her thin gold bracelet rested. His big toe hooked lightly around the chain, the metal pressing into her skin. She felt the heat radiating from his foot, the pressure increasing as he pressed down. Her thigh muscles tensed, pressing together under the table. A slight tremor ran through her hand as she reached for the water glass.
Rajiv: Meera, thoda aur dal? (Meera, more lentils?)
Meera: Haan... haan...
Her voice came out slightly strangled. She took the dal pot, her fingers trembling as she served. The foot under the table pressed harder against hers, his toes now massaging the sensitive arch of her foot. Her breath caught. The sensations were overwhelming - the rough warmth of his skin, the pressure of his toes, the cool metal of her bracelet trapped between their feet. She felt slick warmth spreading between her legs.
She tried to pull her foot back, but his followed, maintaining contact. His little toe traced the delicate bone of her ankle. A soft gasp almost escaped her lips. She covered it with a cough, taking a sip of water. The foot withdrew slightly, but the heat lingered. When she looked up, Arjun was watching her, a faint knowing smile playing at the corner of his mouth before he turned back to Rajiv.
After dinner, they moved to the living room. Rajiv settled into his armchair while Aaryan played with building blocks on the carpet. Meera sat on the sofa, phone discreetly in her lap. Arjun sat opposite her, occasionally tossing a ball to Aaryan.
Arjun: Chandrika looking beautiful tonight. That blue silk...
His voice was low, just for her ears over Aaryan's chatter.
Meera: Birthday boy was too naughty today. So all desserts cancelled.
She kept her eyes on her phone, fighting a smile.
Arjun: Sad birthday boy. No rasmalai?
Meera: Serves you right. After what you did under the table.
Arjun: But your foot was so soft and warm... couldn't resist. Like velvet.
Meera felt her cheeks flush. She shot him a mock-angry look.
Meera: Besharam! First the stares, now the foot games. Kya next?
Arjun: Next? Maybe... seeing if my favorite lavender panty is still waiting?
Meera's breath caught. Her thighs pressed together reflexively.
Meera: Arjun! Cancel karti hoon! Seriously! (with fake anger she replied with an angry face emoji)
Arjun: Sorry sorry! But you asked what I wanted...
Arjun: Just feeling sad I missed seeing my Chandrika tonight. The real one.
Meera looked down, pulse racing. The image of him seeing her in just the lavender lace flooded back - the curve of her hips, the dip of her waist, the lace stretched tight. Wetness soaked through her underwear. She shifted on the sofa, the silk suddenly rough against her sensitized skin.
Suddenly needing space, Meera stood up.
She walked not to the kitchen, but to her bedroom, closing the door softly behind her. Leaning against the cool wood, she breathed deeply. The tension was overwhelming, exhilarating.
She moved to the full-length mirror, studying her reflection in the blue silk saree. Slowly, deliberately, she untucked the saree's pleats at her waist. The fabric loosened. She slid the pallu and the top edge of the saree down inch by careful inch. Smooth, bare stomach appeared - the gentle curve below her navel, the slight indentation of her belly button.
Her fingers hooked into the delicate lavender lace waistband peeking above her petticoat. She pulled it up slightly, tightening the lace against her skin. The scalloped edge pressed firmly into the soft flesh just below her navel, creating a visible indentation. She felt the dampness clearly now - the lace clinging to her skin, growing moist where it touched her most intimate area. The top edge of the lace was fully visible now, a pale lavender band against her skin just below the lowered saree border.
She stared at her reflection - exposed yet covered, incredibly aroused. Her fingertips traced the lace where it cut into her skin, pressing it tighter against her body. She imagined Arjun seeing this - his eyes tracing the revealed strip of stomach, the lace digging into her hips, the way it framed her navel. The thought made her core clench. Heat radiated from between her legs. Her breasts felt heavy and tight beneath the blouse. For him.
With a deep breath, she readjusted the saree, covering the lace edge with the pallu but leaving it loose, precarious. The promise was made, the invitation clear. She touched her flushed cheeks in the mirror, a naughty, defiant smile curving her lips.
Meera walked to the kitchen, her legs feeling slightly shaky. She stood at the sink, pretending to wash a glass while listening intently. Will he come? Nervousness and anticipation mixed inside her, making her stomach flutter. Then, footsteps. She held her breath.
Arjun appeared in the doorway, leaning against the frame.
Arjun: Need any help clearing up, Meera?
His voice sounded casual, but his eyes were dark and focused completely on her.
Her heart pounded hard against her ribs. She turned slowly, leaning back slightly against the counter to face him. Her chest rose and fell with each quick breath, making the silk of her blouse stretch tight across her breasts.
Meera: No, birthday boy. You just relax.
Her voice came out low and husky.
He stepped fully into the small kitchen, making the space feel suddenly smaller and warmer. The air between them felt charged. He moved beside her, so close she could feel the heat coming from his body and smell his sandalwood scent mixed with dinner smells. He picked up a dish towel, his shoulder brushing against hers. The contact sent another jolt through her body.
He leaned in closer, his lips near her ear, his voice dropping to a whisper only she could hear.
Arjun: Chandrika...
Meera shivered violently, a full-body tremor starting from her shoulders down to her knees. She felt goosebumps rise on her arms and the back of her neck.
Arjun stood to her left, pretending to help her clean the dishes. She wanted to please him, at least in someway, the thought made her shiver from the core. She looked down to her abdomen, The pallu is covering her navel, now his Chandrika, she wanted him to see, she wanted him to admire it. She wanted to make the birthday boy happy. Meera slowly and deliberately brought her right thumb on to the exposed skin of her left hip above the saree.
She turned her whole body towards him, a deliberate movement. As she turned, her thumb rested tightly on her stomach, just below her navel. The movement made her carefully dbangd pallu slid to the side. Exposing the smooth skin of her stomach, the perfect dip of her navel, his 'Chandrika'. But more importantly, the delicate lavender lace waistband of her panties became clearly visible just above the tucked border of her saree, hugging the curve of her hip bone and flowing along her smooth skin of her stomach.
She saw his gaze drop instantly and stay fixed there. He didn't try to hide it. His eyes traced the exposed skin of her flat stomach, lingered on the 'Chandrika', then focused on the edge of the lavender lace. She watched his eyes follow the intricate pattern where it disappeared beneath the blue silk, hinting at the curves beneath. She saw raw admiration and hunger in his stare.
Meera glanced down at herself, as if checking what he saw - the intimate strip of lavender lace against her skin, the way it hugged her hip, the contrast of her pale skin of her sensual stomach to the lavender lave. When she looked back up, meeting his gaze, the intensity frightened her slightly. She noticed the sensual shift in him - his jaw tightening, a flush creeping up his neck, and unmistakably, the growing bulge straining against the front of his trousers.
The sight sent a fresh wave of heat crashing through her body. She felt sweat prickle on her upper lip and forehead. A drop formed at her hairline and traced down her temple. Between her legs, she felt a throbbing pulse intensify, making the dampness soaking her lavender lace increase. Her hands trembled where they rested on the counter. Her lips parted slightly as a silent gasp escaped her, her mouth suddenly dry.
The moment stretched, thick with unspoken desire. He stood frozen, completely captivated. She held his gaze, letting him look, her own arousal a powerful force in the small kitchen. Her breath came in shallow gasps that made her breasts rise and fall visibly beneath the thin silk blouse. She could feel her nipples hardening, pressing against the fabric. The skin on her exposed stomach felt hypersensitive, as if charged with electricity. She became intensely aware of every detail - the way his breathing had quickened, the slight tremble in his own hands, the warmth radiating from his body so close to hers, and the insistent wet heat gathering at her core.
The sound of Rajiv's voice calling to Aaryan shattered the moment.
Rajiv (from living room): Beta, careful with that!
Meera jerked, pulling the pallu back to cover herself. Arjun flinched, turning abruptly towards the sink. He turned on the tap with too much force, water splashing everywhere as he clearly tried to compose himself and hide the physical evidence of his arousal. His movements were jerky, his breathing uneven and ragged.
He fumbled with a plate, his voice strained as he tried to sound casual but failed.
Arjun: So... today... no spilled sugar syrup?
He couldn't look at her.
Meera leaned against the counter, still trembling. A slow, knowing smile spread across her face as she met his eyes in the window's reflection above the sink. Her gaze held his - deep, dark, filled with their shared secret and her own undeniable state. She didn't speak, but her eyes answered him clearly: Yes. It's spilled. It's drenched. The heat in her core, the soaked lavender lace clinging to her, was proof enough.
The sound of Aaryan running into the room broke the connection.
Aaryan: Mummy! Papa says...
Arjun quickly dried his hands, his movements stiff and unnatural. His face tried to show neutrality, but the high flush remained on his cheeks as he mumbled an excuse and practically fled the kitchen. Meera watched him go, noticing how he adjusted his trousers discreetly as he walked away, the fabric still tented at the front.
She turned back to the sink, letting cool water run over her trembling hands. The echo of his gaze lingered on her skin like a physical touch, and the insistent throb between her legs continued, a constant, burning reminder of the intimate birthday gift she'd given.